#maybe i should go write 🤡

[mercymaker]

was having a 'meh' kind of day, so decided to just chill, play video games, work on some gifs

and as i was editing a gif, this sort of emptiness crept up on me and i just sat there like 'why am i even making this'

[misspoetree]

So the lovely @haahka and I were talking about Tay and how it's a bit sad that the fandom only ever seems to send him on shopping tours or focus on his fashion (you guys know that I'm obsessed with the KinnPorsche Fashion myself, but it's just a little...unadventurous, you know).

And then I got waaay to deep into headcanons with the equally lovely @tumsa (I'm not even sorry for the spam 😌❤).

Now, there are two things I want to do: first, I'd love to hear more Tay headcanons - feel free to throw them at me (as an ask, in the tags, added to this post, whatever you prefer). Because I'm really curious. 👀

And second, I'm going to share a few of mine:

Tay is way more capable than anyone thinks. (But no one needs to know that.)

People treat Tay like a princess within the show - I mean, he isn't even allowed to help in the kitchen at Porsche's. But I don't think Tay IS a princess. I think it's a protective façade. Because letting oneself be underestimated is a (survival) strategy in a world of money and constant power struggle, and a smart one at that. Yes, Tay is really good at reading people in general, but I also feel like people tend to let their guard down around him. Because he's kind, and understanding, and compassionate - and he seems harmless, a bit spoiled even. His 'softness' puts people at ease, makes them talk, makes them more honest than they probably should be. He's not a threat after all. I bet he knows a lot of things he shouldn't. I bet he's smart enough to use that knowledge (to help other people, to help himself, if needed). And I bet Tay could be fucking dangerous if he ever chose to (and wouldn't that be exciting 👀).

I also like to think that Tay has a strong survival instinct that goes beyond 'pretending to be incapable'. He and Kinn have been friends for ages, their families know each other, he basically grew up surrounded by mafia. He probably witnessed Tankhun's kidnapping back in the day. The horror and trauma of it. Tay's family is rich. He's close to the Theerapanyakuls. To the future head of the family. But he DOESN'T have an army of bodyguards following him around. And the downside of 'being harmless' is looking like an easy victim. Tay is too smart to be unprepared. So in my headcanon he knows how to handle a crisis, knows how to deal with danger, knows how to survive. Knows how to get out of the country quickly, how to get money without leaving a trail, how to get an unregistered gun. How to land a mean punch even though he hates it, how to apply (good) first aid EVEN THOUGH HE HATES IT. (I do think that he really isn't a fan of physical stuff, so the princess image is not completely off. Or, well, he lets it work in his favour.)

Tay's reaction to being hurt, being really hurt, is to shut his emotions down completely.

I don't enjoy how Tay's often written as dramatic and over-emotional in his confrontations with Time after what happened at Hum Bar. He isn't sober when he catches his boyfriend shoving his tongue down another man's throat, and well, his boyfriend is shoving his tongue down another man's throat. So of course he's fucking angry. And emotional. Right then and there. But the thing is, Tay had time to think, time to cool off in those other confrontations. And that's just the way to describe Tay's demeanor then: cool, cold, like ice. I like to think that he just freezes over. Turns into a statue of neutral disinterest. Just imagine: someone like Tay, always so kind and compassionate, staring you down with an expressionless face, not reacting to anything you say, looking close to fucking bored. Imagine what that would do to Time, always so full of himself, always so used to getting reactions out of Tay. Walking straight into a wall of ice. Completely out of his element. Really forced to put the work in for once. And it truly is hard work to break through to Tay once he closes his feelings off from you. A little bit of grovelling might be necessary. (That said, dealing with his emotions like that isn't good for Tay either. Of course not.)

There's...'something' between Tay and Vegas, some kind of understanding

I never got over TAY asking after Vegas in the final episode. Or the way Tay watches Vegas as he passes him during the auction. So I'm having a lot of fun wondering about the 'relationship' between Tay and Vegas, or how potential interactions could have gone down.

I mean, Tay 'belongs' to Kinn. We know that Vegas wants everything that belongs to Kinn (I bet he thinks Kinn must have fucked a pretty boy like that at least once. Even though it's not his usual type. Why else would he stick around?). Tay's caring and understanding. We know how Vegas can react...to something like that. (Not him falling in love after one free therapy session or something like that.) Tay is really good at reading people, he is really good at reading Kinn. And we know Vegas is not so different from Kinn (in some ways), even though he would murder anyone suggesting something like that to his face. Or maybe that's exactly what Tay does. Telling that to his face. As Vegas tries to seduce him, in the earlier days. But Tay doesn't try to wound him with that, to be cruel or mean, it's just an observation, spoken in that calm and understanding tone of his. And a younger Vegas is so shocked by that statement that he just...stops? And stares at Tay who just keeps going with that warm look in his eyes and those observations that hit a little too close to home until he can't take it anymore and turns on his heel to...definitely NOT run away like a dog with his tail between his legs.

Vegas keeps his distance after that. That princess isn't worth the effort, he tells himself. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe he stops trying to seduce Tay, yes. But they end up talking again. And again. Because Vegas desperately needs to know what Tay meant with those things he said. And there's just... something about their conversations that keeps Vegas coming back. Until (stealing some thoughts from @tumsa here <3) Tay tries to convince Vegas that the competition between him and Kinn is dumb. Vegas does keep his distance, then.

And Tay gives up trying to help, trying to make him see how futile all of this is because it's clear Vegas won't listen to anyone but his father. But he still cares about Vegas, and seeing all the things Vegas does to himself without realising, seeing that ever-growing self-destructive obsession with Kinn sits like a leaden ball in Tay's stomach. The knowledge that he can't do anything to help is a bit like its own form of torture.

Anyways, (stealing again from @tumsa) Tay definitely ends up going to the hospital to visit Vegas. In secret, of course. And seeing Vegas and Pete together, seeing Vegas being changed by love, seeing him try to be a better person for Pete, putting all this effort in to make it work - maybe all of this forces Tay to reflect on his own love life for once. To reflect on the things he wants. The things he deserves, after all.

Nearly everyone had a crush on Tay, one time or another

You guys know the thing we do with Vegas? Like how VegasPete is the holy grail of endgame ships but it's so much fucking fun to ship Vegas with everyone and to imagine all his possible encounters and escapades? Because he's manipulation, seduction and psychological issues stacked on top of each other and wrapped in a velvet shirt?

Well. I like to do the same thing with Tay. For more or less opposite reasons. Because he's understanding and warm and compassionate and smart (and really pretty). In a world full of violence and trauma and repressed emotions, only sharp edges. I mean, who wouldn't crave the warmth, who wouldn't want to bathe in the sunlight for a while? I'm pretty sure people are falling en masse for Tay. And I think Tay doesn't always know how to handle it. Or genuinely doesn't realise what kind of effect he has on those poor bastards for doing nothing more than showing them a bit of kindness. Or maybe he's simply choosing to ignore it because he only has eyes for one person and one person alone.

Anyways, a lot of fun directions to go with this last headcanon for now. (And I'm keeping it intentionally vague and without examples because otherwise, this would turn into a multichapter fanfic I don't have time to write just now. 🤡)

[cloudyluun]

No Cameras Allowed | famous!harry

Summary: You and Harry have been secretly hooking up for months, but at a high-profile event—surrounded by cameras, fans, and industry people—you have to pretend like nothing is going on. The tension builds to an unbearable level, leading you to sneak away for a risky, reckless rendezvous.

A/N: Listen, I started writing this thinking, “Let’s make this classy and controlled,” and then Harry had a meltdown over a missing condom and suddenly we were all in too deep. 🤡 This fic is 90% tension, 5% absolute recklessness, and 5% me screaming into my pillow because these two cannot behave. Hydrate, take deep breaths, and maybe say a prayer, because I swear, I’m just the stressed-out typist here. If you need me, I’ll be in horny jail. 🚔🔒🔥

Word Count: 2,7k

Warnings: 

Explicit sexual content (Smut, NSFW, 18+)!!!

Jealousy & tension-filled interactions - Both are very jealous. I probably would be too. 

Mentions of alcohol consumption

Strong language & dirty talk

Mentions of an implied lack of protection (brief but relevant to the plot)

Secret relationship shenanigans – They’re sneaking around, and they’re GOOD at it… except for when they’re not.

Unholy levels of sexual tension – You will feel the need to take a deep breath and maybe fan yourself.

Public sex – Yes, they did it where they absolutely should not have. No regrets.

Desperation – The kind where you physically feel the ache in your soul (and elsewhere).

No condom moment – Highly irresponsible. Highly hot. They make choices, not necessarily good ones.

Hand over mouth trope – He’s gotta keep her quiet. You already know.

Neck-grabbing, wrist-holding, wall-pressing – He’s got control issues, and you like it.

Mutual corruption – Neither of them is innocent, and that’s exactly why this is happening.

Proceed at your own risk. But let’s be real—you’re already in too deep.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The hotel room is bathed in the warm glow of the bedside lamp, casting soft shadows across the sheets that are barely covering your tangled bodies. The air is thick with the remnants of earlier touches, the room still carrying the heat of whispered confessions and the slow, lingering movements that had left both of you breathless.

Harry’s fingers trace lazy circles on your bare back, his touch featherlight, almost absentminded. It’s a stark contrast to the way his hands had gripped you just an hour ago—possessive, desperate, leaving invisible marks on your skin. Now, he’s all slow affection, the pads of his fingertips skimming your shoulder blades as if he’s memorizing every inch of you.

Your head rests against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling the way it slows now that you’re here, settled, unrushed. His other hand is tucked behind his head, his bicep flexed just enough to make you roll your eyes at how effortlessly attractive he is, even in this sleepy, post-bliss state.

“I love how you think we’re subtle,” you murmur, a smirk pulling at your lips as you press a kiss to his warm skin.

Harry huffs out a laugh, shifting slightly so he can look down at you, his dimple peeking through as he grins. “No one suspects a thing.”

You tilt your head up, raising a brow. “Mitch literally asked me why I disappear at 2 a.m. all the time.”

Harry groans dramatically, rolling his eyes as he pulls you closer. “Mitch needs to mind his own business.”

You giggle against his chest, your fingers idly tracing over the swallows inked onto his skin. “I think he’s just concerned that I might be in some kind of secret underground fight club or something.”

Harry laughs, a full-bodied sound that shakes both of you. “Right. Because that’s the more likely scenario.”

“Exactly,” you tease, biting back a grin.

His laugh fades into something softer, more intimate, as his fingers slide down your back. Then, without warning, he shifts, rolling you onto your back so he’s hovering above you. His curls fall slightly into his face, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of you beneath him.

His voice is lower now, edged with something deeper. “Maybe I like knowing that no one else gets to see you like this.”

Your breath catches. It’s moments like this—when the teasing fades, when the weight of what’s between you presses against your ribs—that make your pulse stutter.

You reach up, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him hum in satisfaction. “You’re ridiculously possessive, you know that?”

He smirks, dipping his head so his lips hover just above yours. “And you love it.”

You don’t argue.

Instead, you let your lips brush against his in a slow, drawn-out kiss, savoring the way he melts into you. His body presses flush against yours, heat radiating between you, but it’s not rushed this time. It’s lazy and indulgent, like you have all the time in the world.

Which, of course, you don’t.

You sigh against his lips, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “So, the gala.”

Harry groans, dropping his head against your shoulder. “Way to ruin the mood.”

You laugh, running your fingers down his back. “I’m just saying—we’re really going to pretend we don’t even know each other all night?”

He exhales heavily, propping himself up on his elbows. “No flirting, no sneaky touches, no slipping away together,” he confirms, voice laced with mock seriousness.

You let out an exaggerated groan, throwing an arm over your face. “How am I supposed to act like I don’t want to drag you into a closet all night?”

Harry chuckles, but there’s something else in his expression now—something taut, restrained. “You don’t,” he says simply, leaning in so his lips brush the shell of your ear. “You pretend you don’t want me.” His breath is warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You shift beneath him, already feeling the weight of what tomorrow will bring—the distance, the careful avoidance, the act you’ll have to put on for the world.

Harry pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his green eyes flickering with something unreadable. “Think you can handle that?”

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

No, you think. Probably not.

But you don’t say that.

Instead, you force a smirk, pressing your palm against his chest. “Oh, absolutely,” you lie.

And Harry, the smug bastard, grins like he knows exactly how much of a lie that is.

Now you curse yourself for ever agreeing to this.

The flashing lights are blinding, the chaotic energy of the gala buzzing through the air as celebrities step out of sleek black cars, each one greeted by a wave of deafening screams. The photographers shout names, demanding poses, each snap of their cameras preserving fleeting moments for the world to analyze later. It’s all so polished, so orchestrated, yet it feels suffocating.

And Harry?

He’s already here.

You watch from the backseat of your car as he steps onto the carpet, buttoning his perfectly tailored suit jacket with the kind of effortless charm that makes the world swoon. His presence commands attention—broad shoulders, sharp jawline, a smirk so devastating it could be classified as a lethal weapon. His dimple makes an appearance as he waves to the screaming fans, his rings glinting under the camera flashes as he adjusts his cuffs.

He looks like he was born for this.

And the worst part? He looks completely unaffected.

Your fingers tighten around the fabric of your dress as you watch him. He’s talking to an interviewer now, flashing that coy, knowing grin that makes people hang onto his every word. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you don’t need to. It’s the same carefully controlled persona he always wears in public—charming, composed, a little bit playful.

The side of your lip twitches. Bastard.

You’re still sitting in the car, waiting for your cue to step out, when you see it.

The shift.

One second, Harry’s engaged in conversation, his body relaxed. The next, his entire demeanor changes—his grip tightening around the glass in his hand, his jaw locking ever so slightly.

It takes you half a second to realize why.

You’ve been spotted.

Even from across the carpet, you feel the weight of his stare the moment you step out of the car. The cool night air barely registers against your skin as you straighten your posture, your carefully curated expression slipping into place. You’re aware of the way the crowd reacts—how the screams spike in volume, how the cameras angle toward you, how the buzz of murmured conversations follows in your wake.

You can feel Harry’s eyes on you.

But you don’t look at him.

You won’t.

Instead, you let your lips curve into a soft, controlled smile, pretending not to notice the ripple of attention your arrival has caused. You let the cameras take their fill, pausing just long enough for the photographers to capture the moment. Your outfit—a masterpiece of elegance and barely-contained sensuality—hugs your body in all the right ways, a choice you made with full awareness of the effect it would have.

And judging by the way Harry is gripping his glass like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground, you were absolutely right.

The red carpet is a practiced dance, one you know how to navigate flawlessly. You answer questions with ease, your responses light but distant enough to keep them guessing. You pose for the cameras, move toward the fan section, offering them your full attention.

That’s when it happens.

“Are you and Harry friends?”

The question is innocent enough, asked by a girl barely containing her excitement as she clutches her phone, ready to record your reaction.

You keep your smile intact. You don’t falter. “Yeah, of course! He’s lovely.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you hear it.

A barely contained giggle. A whispered assumption.

“She totally blushed. They’re hiding something.”

You force yourself not to react, but the air shifts just slightly, your composure settling a little tighter around your frame. You laugh lightly, as if the idea is ridiculous, before moving along with the conversation.

But Harry?

Harry hears it.

From across the room, his fingers flex, resisting the urge to drain the rest of his drink. He watches the exchange with careful disinterest, his expression unreadable to the untrained eye. But you know him. You recognize the way his jaw tenses just slightly, the way his gaze darkens the moment your name is paired with his in that context.

Then, as if the universe is determined to push him closer to the edge, someone steps into your space.

It’s a man—some actor, charming and self-assured, the kind of person who knows exactly what effect he has. He leans in just slightly as he compliments your dress, his tone playful, his body language open. It’s harmless. Flirtatious, but harmless.

But from across the room?

Harry doesn’t look at it that way.

Your awareness of him sharpens. Even without turning your head, you know he’s watching. You can feel it in your bones, the heat of his stare like a brand against your skin.

You tilt your head, letting yourself laugh at something the actor says, just for good measure. Just to push back at the invisible tether Harry has wrapped around you.

Then you make the mistake of looking.

It’s quick. A glance. Barely a second.

But it’s enough.

Harry’s gaze locks onto yours, the weight of it nearly stealing the breath from your lungs. His fingers tap against the side of his glass, his lips pressing together in a way that tells you exactly what he’s thinking.

A silent challenge.

You swallow, looking away first.

Then, just when you think the tension has reached its peak, the night conspires against you once again.

The little moments start stacking up.

In passing, your hands brush—just a second too long. A lingering whisper of contact that shouldn’t mean anything. But it does.

Harry leans in to whisper something to a friend, but his lips nearly graze the edge of your ear as he passes. The warmth of his breath ghosts against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

And then—because the universe has a twisted sense of humor—you witness the moment that nearly breaks your resolve.

She’s stunning, the actress who leans in too close to him, her laugh like honey as she touches his arm in a way that feels practiced. You don’t know what she’s saying, but it’s enough to make Harry smirk, enough to make his fingers flex slightly where they rest on his knee.

You grip your glass tighter.

“I swear to god…” you mutter under your breath, not even realizing you’d spoken aloud.

Then, without warning—without a sound—Harry is behind you.

His voice is a low, taunting whisper, barely audible over the noise of the party.

“If you keep looking at me like that, we’re not making it through the night.”

A shiver rolls down your spine.

Your pulse jumps.

But you don’t turn around.

Because you know exactly what will happen if you do.

You can feel him watching you, his presence a weight against your skin, a force pulling you in even when you’re trying to resist. It’s unbearable—the tension, the push and pull of this secret that has stretched between you for months. You grip your drink tighter, the condensation damp against your fingers, and force yourself to stay rooted in place.

You exhale slowly. Then, in a move that is as reckless as it is calculated, you turn on your heel and walk away.

You don’t look back.

Instead, you slip into the nearest group of people, throwing yourself into conversation like it’s effortless, like your pulse isn’t hammering against your ribs. You laugh—too loudly, too carelessly—letting the sound carry just far enough. Your fingers graze someone’s arm, your smile lingers for a second too long. You don’t even register what’s being said; the words mean nothing. The only thing that matters is what’s happening behind you.

What Harry is doing.

Or rather—what he’s about to do.

You feel it before you see it. The energy shifts. The air crackles with a new kind of charge.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you catch him.

Harry is watching.

His jaw is tight, his fingers flexing around the glass in his hand. He looks calm to the untrained eye, but you know better. You know that slight clench in his jaw, the way his throat bobs when he swallows, the restless way his thumb drags along the rim of his glass.

You keep talking. You keep laughing.

And then Harry downs his drink in one swift motion, his throat moving as he swallows the last drop of whiskey. He sets the glass down with just a little too much force, and without a single word, he turns and walks away.

Your breath catches.

You don’t move. Not immediately.

You wait.

One second.

Two.

A full minute passes before you finally allow yourself to move.

You slip away, just as quietly as he did, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. The further you get from the main event, the quieter it becomes. The music fades into the background, the distant murmur of conversation growing softer. Your heels click against the polished marble floor as you move down an empty hallway, your heart pounding harder with every step.

You don’t have to look for him.

You already know where he is.

The moment you turn the corner into the restricted hallway near the VIP lounges, you barely have time to register anything before—

Strong hands grab your waist.

You gasp as you’re yanked back against the wall, the cool surface biting through the heat radiating off your skin. The shock of it barely registers before Harry is there, his body flush against yours, his scent wrapping around you—something deep and warm, laced with the remnants of whiskey and frustration.

His voice is low, rough, each word vibrating against your skin.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me all night?”

Your breath is uneven, your pulse a wild drumbeat beneath your skin.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, biting back a smirk. His eyes are dark, burning with barely contained hunger.

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” you murmur, resting your hands against his chest.

The muscle beneath his suit jacket is tense, coiled tight like he’s barely holding himself together.

And then—

He kisses you.

Hard.

The second your back hits the wall, Harry’s on you. There’s no hesitation, no space, no air left between you. His body presses into yours, solid and warm, and his grip on your waist is possessive, like he’s making sure you don’t slip away.

He kisses you like he’s starving, like he’s been thinking about this all night—which, knowing him, he has. His mouth moves over yours, hot, open-mouthed, desperate, his tongue sweeping against yours in slow, deep strokes that make your knees go weak.

You fist your hands in his shirt, yanking him closer, feeling the crisp fabric tighten under your grip. It’s unfair, really—how he gets to look so put-together while you’re already falling apart for him. His suit, all sharp lines and tailored edges, contrasts with the way your body melts against his, your dress already slipping up your thighs.

His hands wander, explore, claim—roaming down your sides, gripping your hips, guiding your body against his. He tugs at your dress, fingertips skimming beneath the hem, teasing the fabric higher—so high that his knuckles graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

You shudder. He notices immediately.

A slow, knowing smirk curls his lips against yours, but he doesn’t say anything—just drags his hand higher, his fingertips just barely brushing the damp heat between your legs.

You gasp into his mouth, your fingers tightening in his shirt, and he chuckles—a low, dark sound that makes your stomach tighten.

“You’re already shaking for me, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and teasing.

You bite back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction just yet. Instead, you tilt your chin up slightly, meeting his eyes, and shift your hips forward—just the tiniest roll of your body against his.

The reaction is instant.

Harry groans—deep, rough, almost guttural—and his head drops to your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven against your neck. His fingers dig into your waist, tight, desperate, like he’s barely holding himself back.

“You’re trying to kill me,” he pants, his voice rough, vibrating against your skin.

You smirk, breathless but smug. “That’s dramatic.”

Harry lifts his head slowly, green eyes blazing with something dark and dangerous, and then—before you can blink—he rolls his hips into you, pressing his body flush against yours.

You feel everything—the solid heat of him, the hardness pressing against your core, the undeniable proof of just how much he wants you.

A gasp catches in your throat.

His lips brush against your jaw, and his voice drops lower, rougher, more strained.

“Am I?”

The hallway is too quiet, the distant sounds of the gala making this moment feel even riskier. Muted laughter, clinking glasses, the murmur of conversations—all of it feels like it’s happening in another world, one you’ve completely abandoned the second Harry pressed you against this wall.

It should be a warning. It should be a reason to stop.

But all you can focus on is him.

The way he’s crowding you, caging you in, body heat rolling off him in waves. The way his eyes stay locked on yours, pupils blown wide, like he’s daring you to tell him to stop. The way he’s breathing heavy, shoulders rising and falling, like he’s barely holding himself together.

Then his hands are moving.

Sliding up your thighs, pushing your dress higher, higher, bunching the fabric at your hips. His fingertips graze the damp heat between your legs, teasing, barely there, but enough.

You whimper.

A quiet, desperate little sound that you try to swallow down.

But he hears it. Of course, he hears it.

And it makes him lose his patience.

His palm presses against you through the lace of your underwear, applying just the barest amount of pressure—but it’s enough to make your stomach tighten, enough to send a bolt of pleasure straight through you.

His lips aren’t on your mouth anymore. They’re moving—hot and insistent—trailing along your jaw, then down to your throat, biting, sucking, his teeth scraping sensitive skin. He’s not careful, not like he normally is. He doesn’t care if he leaves a mark. Maybe he wants to.

Maybe he wants you to feel him long after this is over.

Your breath catches when his other hand finds your wrist and pins it to the wall beside your head. It’s not rough, but it’s firm. Controlling. Like he needs to keep you exactly where he wants you.

His voice is a murmur against your ear, low and wrecked.

"You’re already soaked."

Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you squirm against his hand, hips pushing toward his touch despite yourself.

"Wonder why," you breathe.

Harry chuckles darkly, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. Then, without warning, his fingers slip under the lace, dragging through your slick folds. He groans—low, deep, almost pained—his forehead pressing against yours like he’s trying to hold himself together.

"Fuck."

His fingers find your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that make your stomach tighten, your thighs clenching around his hand. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and your breath stutters, your fingers twisting in his shirt.

You bite your lip so hard it nearly hurts, trying to suppress the moan that’s threatening to spill out.

Harry watches you, studying every tiny reaction, his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed like he’s mesmerized by the way you come apart for him.

Then he slides one finger inside you—slow but deliberate—pushing in deep, stretching you open just enough to make you gasp.

And then he adds a second.

Your back arches off the wall, nails digging into his shoulders, your body desperate for more.

"Feel so good," Harry grits out, his voice thick with lust. His fingers work you open, slow and steady, curling just right, dragging against your walls until your thighs are shaking. His restraint is slipping—you can feel it.

"Always so fucking tight for me."

His words make your breath hitch, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You try to hold on, try to keep some kind of control, but his fingers are relentless, moving in and out of you, stroking your clit in slow, precise circles.

"Harry—" Your voice is barely a whisper, your eyes fluttering shut. "Someone’s gonna hear us—"

His free hand leaves your wrist, and before you can react, he covers your mouth, his palm warm against your lips, muffling the tiny sounds spilling out of you.

A smirk tugs at his lips, his breath ghosting over your cheek.

"Then you better be quiet, baby."

Harry’s fingers leave you, leaving behind nothing but an unbearable ache, an emptiness that makes your body tense with need. He doesn’t waste a second—his hands move fast, frantic, reaching for his belt, undoing the buckle with sharp, impatient movements.

You’re gasping, panting, your nails digging into his shoulders, hips rolling up to meet his, desperate for more. For him.

But then—he stops.

You barely notice at first, too caught up in the heat, too lost in the way his body presses into yours, how close you are to getting what you need. But then you feel it—the hesitation. The stiffness in his muscles. The way his forehead suddenly drops to your shoulder, his chest rising and falling with deep, frustrated breaths.

And then he curses.

"Shit. Fuck."

His voice is low, rough, like he’s physically forcing himself to stop. Like he’s just had the wind knocked out of him.

Your body stills, your mind foggy and desperate, your pulse hammering against your ribs.

"What?" you whisper, blinking up at him, confused, needing answers, needing him to keep going, needing him to fix whatever’s wrong.

Harry pulls back just enough to look at you, his jaw tight, his fingers threading through his curls in frustration. His pupils are blown wide, his lips swollen from kissing you, his whole body wrecked with restraint.

"I don’t have a condom."

The words hit like a slap of cold air against overheated skin.

Your stomach flips, pulse pounding in your ears. You should stop. You both should.

This is the moment.

The moment to take a breath, to come to your senses, to remember that this is a mistake. That it’s reckless, that it’s too risky, that there are a million reasons why you shouldn’t do this.

But none of them matter.

Because the heat between you is unbearable. Because your body is screaming for him, because the throbbing ache inside you is too strong to ignore, because stopping now would feel more painful than giving in.

Because you don’t care.

Your throat feels tight, your breath shaky as the words slip out before you can even think about them.

"I don’t care."

Harry’s head snaps up, his gaze locking onto yours so fast it makes you shiver.

His eyes—dark, intense, searching—burn into you, like he’s trying to see if you really mean it. Trying to find a reason to stop, a reason to be the responsible one.

But all he finds is desperation.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his breath uneven.

"Are you sure?" His voice is rough, raw, almost pained—like he wants this so fucking bad but needs to hear you say it again.

Your legs tighten around his waist, your arms looping around his neck, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

"Please," you whisper, the word barely audible, but it’s all it takes.

His control snaps.

Harry’s mouth crashes against yours—hot, messy, consuming—all teeth and tongue and raw need. His kiss is desperate, like he’s trying to devour you, trying to silence every thought, every doubt that should be pulling you both apart.

But there’s nothing else in this moment. Nothing but him.

His hands are greedy, impatient, everywhere all at once—roaming over your thighs, gripping your waist, tangling in your hair—taking, taking, taking, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you against him.

He drags your underwear to the side, not bothering to remove them, just getting them out of his way. The fabric is soaked, ruined, and he groans when he feels just how wet you are, just how ready.

There’s a shaky, fumbling urgency to the way he shoves his trousers down, just enough, just far enough to free himself, because there’s no time for anything else.

No time to think.

No time to stop.

His cock presses against you, hot and aching, the tip slick with need.

You tense in anticipation, body going rigid, your fingers digging into his back as you feel him right there—so close, too close, not close enough.

Then—he pushes in.

A sharp, deep stretch, the overwhelming burn of being filled so fast, so suddenly, so completely.

You can feel every inch of him—thick, hard, hot, pressing deep, stretching you open until it’s almost too much.

Your lips part on a gasp, a sharp, startled moan spilling from your throat before you can stop it—

But Harry is faster.

His hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your cry, his forehead dropping against yours, his breath shaky and uneven as he tries to hold himself together.

"Shhh," he rasps, his voice wrecked, strained, like he’s just barely keeping control.

His jaw is clenched so tight, his arms shaking from the effort of not losing himself completely. His fingers dig into the plush of your thigh, his other hand flexing against your mouth, making sure you stay quiet.

"Fuck," he groans, voice low and guttural, his breath hot against your lips.

"Fuck, you feel so good."

You clench around him, the pressure making your whole body arch, making your legs tighten around his waist, your nails biting into his biceps.

"So deep," you whisper against his palm, already breathless, already drowning in him.

Harry lets out a choked, strangled sound, his head dropping to your shoulder, his teeth scraping against the delicate skin of your neck.

He grips your hip tighter, yanks your thigh up higher, angling you just right—

Then he moves.

His first thrust is slow, deep, pulling out just enough before sinking back in, like he’s savoring it, like he’s relishing the way you stretch around him, the way your body grips him so perfectly.

Then—he snaps.

His hips slam into you, his movements turning frantic, punishing, wild, as if he’s been holding back for too long and can’t anymore.

It’s rough, raw, overwhelming, his cock dragging against every sensitive nerve, making you feel every inch, every inch, every inch.

The wall is solid behind you, but it does nothing to ground you, nothing to brace you against the way he’s pounding into you, forcing the breath from your lungs with every sharp, perfect thrust.

Your hands scramble for purchase, fingers clutching his shoulders, his hair, his back, anything to hold on to.

The contrast is unbearable—the cold marble against your back, the scorching heat of his body against yours, the wetness pooling between you, the rough press of his fingertips against your thigh, your hip, your waist.

"I can feel you squeezing me," he pants, voice deep, wrecked, laced with pure lust.

His teeth graze your jaw, his breath hot, heavy, uneven as he presses deeper, harder, better.

"You close, baby?"

You can’t even think.

All you can do is nod frantically, your nails scratching down his back, your voice breaking, muffled against his shoulder.

"So close—please don’t stop."

He lets out a low, throaty growl, his hands tightening, his hips slamming into you even harder, rougher, faster.

"I got you," he grits out, his voice tight, desperate.

"Let go for me."

And you do.

It hits you all at once—a blinding, earth-shattering pleasure that crashes through you so violently it nearly steals the breath from your lungs.

Your walls clench, pulse, flutter around him, drawing him in deeper, tighter, squeezing him so hard he lets out a wrecked, strangled moan.

Your whole body locks up, then shakes, trembles, collapses as your orgasm tears through you, leaving nothing behind but a pounding heartbeat and the echo of his name on your lips.

Harry doesn’t last long after that.

His rhythm stutters, his grip on your body tightens, his breath turning ragged, uneven, choked.

Then—he slams into you one last time, burying himself deep, so deep, as deep as he can go—and he lets go.

A deep, shaky groan rumbles from his chest as he spills into you, his fingers digging into your hips so tight it’s almost painful.

For a long moment, there’s nothing but harsh breaths, trembling limbs, the sound of racing hearts.

Your bodies are still pressed together, still locked in place, neither of you willing to move, to let go, to face what you’ve just done.

No space between you.

No words.

Just the wreckage of this moment, of the heat, of the mess you’ve made together.

The world around you is silent.

Or maybe your ears are still ringing from the intensity of it all—the overwhelming pleasure, the crash of your heartbeat in your skull, the way your body is still trembling from the aftershocks.

You’re breathless, boneless, your limbs heavy and warm, still wrapped around him, still feeling the echo of where he’s been, of where he still is.

Neither of you move.

Not yet.

Harry’s forehead presses against yours, his breath hot and unsteady, his chest rising and falling against yours in the same frantic, uneven rhythm.

His hands haven’t left your body—fingertips tracing over the dips of your waist, the curve of your thigh, like he can’t stop touching you, even now.

He should feel guilty.

He should regret this.

This was reckless, stupid, dangerous.

Someone could’ve caught you.

Someone still might.

But instead of guilt, instead of remorse, instead of the sinking weight of what the fuck have we done—

All he feels is satisfaction.

His lips twitch. The corner of his mouth quirks up, amusement flickering in his dark, lazy eyes, like he already knows what you’re about to say.

And sure enough—

"We’re so gonna get caught one day," you breathe, still a little dazed, still not sure you can feel your legs yet.

A smirk spreads across his face, slow and wicked, as his fingers brush damp hair from your forehead, his other hand still gripping your thigh, holding you in place, keeping you where he wants you.

He shifts slightly—just enough to remind you that he’s still inside you, still buried so deep it makes your breath hitch.

Then he whispers, low and deliberate, his lips brushing against yours—

"Worth it."

You leave first.

Your legs are still shaky, your breath uneven as you move quickly down the hallway, trying to compose yourself before stepping back into the crowd. The moment you’re back under the bright lights of the gala, surrounded by elegant chatter and the clinking of champagne glasses, it’s like stepping into a completely different reality.

You fight the urge to touch your lips, knowing they’re still kiss-bruised and swollen from Harry’s mouth on yours. Instead, you fish through your clutch with trembling fingers, pulling out your compact mirror and flipping it open, only to let out a quiet curse under your breath.

Your lipstick is completely ruined.

Smudged at the edges, faint traces of it smeared beyond the natural curve of your lips, a dead giveaway to what you’ve been doing.

And that’s not even the worst of it.

You tilt your chin slightly, angling the mirror lower—your neck burns with the ghost of his teeth, the imprint of his mouth. You squint at your reflection, but you don’t have to look closely to see the faint red bloom of a mark beginning to form just under your jaw.

Jesus. You need to fix this.

Your heart pounds as you swipe a fingertip over your lips, smoothing away the damage as best you can, trying to make yourself look normal, untouched, innocent. You pat at your flushed cheeks, inhale a steadying breath, and pull your dress back into place before making your way deeper into the room.

No one is paying attention to you.

Or at least—that’s what you tell yourself.

Because the truth is…some people are.

The ones who notice everything.

The ones who have been watching you both all night.

It’s only five minutes later when Harry returns.

And that’s when the whispers really start.

📱 Twitter Explodes:

@YNUpdates: "Harry and Y/N disappeared at the SAME TIME and now her lipstick is smudged??? Someone explain." 👀

@Hstylesfan88: "Tell me why Harry looks wrecked after being ‘away’ for 20 minutes???"

@Directioner_for_life: "LOOK AT THIS. WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE HE JUST GOT LAID." [Attached: a blurry photo of Harry stepping back into the gala, tie loose, hair messy, jaw tight as he adjusts his suit.]

@StylinsonLover: "I swear to god if they’re secretly fucking and we don’t know I will RIOT."

It’s all so fast.

You don’t even realize how much people have picked up on until your phone vibrates in your clutch, a message from a friend—

"You might wanna check Twitter."

Your stomach flips as you glance around the room, trying not to be obvious as you spot him across the crowd.

And holy fuck, yeah—they’re right.

Harry looks wrecked.

His tie is loosened, the first two buttons of his shirt undone, the strands of his hair slightly tousled, like someone’s fingers had just been gripping at it.

You swallow hard.

You shouldn’t be staring at him, shouldn’t be biting your lip at the sight of him still looking a little ruined from fucking you against the wall.

And yet—

The way he carries himself so effortlessly, the way his expression is calm, unaffected—like he hasn’t just been inside you, like he hasn’t just come undone in the deepest parts of you—it’s infuriating.

Because you feel so obvious.

Like everyone in this goddamn room knows.

And the worst part?

Maybe they do.

--

The night is winding down, the music softens, the lights dim just slightly, and the energy in the room shifts from excitement to exhaustion.

People start to leave in waves—celebrities slipping out with their teams, photographers packing up their equipment, security guiding fans toward the exits.

You keep your distance.

You have to.

For months now, you and Harry have been careful—so careful.

Because if anyone found out, the questions wouldn’t stop.

Who made the first move? Who was the one who set the rules? Who got attached first? Who’s more obsessed? Is it real? Is it fake? When did it start? How will it end?

You already know what the media would say.

That you are just another girl Harry’s using.

That he is just another celebrity falling into a meaningless fling.

That this is just another story waiting to be ripped apart, twisted into something ugly, overanalyzed until there’s nothing left.

They wouldn’t understand that it’s not like that. That it’s never been like that.

So, you play your part.

You pretend.

You act like you’re just another guest in the room, sipping champagne and offering polite smiles and nods.

And you ignore the way your skin still burns where he touched you.

But every few minutes—you feel him.

A glance across the room.

A flick of his eyes down to your lips.

A tiny smirk when you press them together, nervous, flustered, still feeling him everywhere.

Your cheeks heat up, and you force yourself to look away, heart hammering.

You have to be careful.

But then—just as you think you’ve made it out without another close call—

A hand on your wrist.

Warm. Quick. Certain.

Your breath catches as you turn, only to find him there, impossibly close, standing just slightly behind you, tucked into the shadows where no one else can see.

Your stomach tightens.

You don’t even have time to react before his fingers slide down, trailing over your palm, catching your hand in his.

His grip is gentle but sure, fingers threading through yours like this isn’t just another secret touch. Like he’s holding on.

Your pulse jumps, and his thumb brushes over it, tracing the rapid rhythm.

When you meet his gaze, his eyes are dark, still hooded from everything you’ve done tonight, but there’s something else there now, too. Something deeper.

"See you later?" he murmurs, voice low, teasing, soft in a way that makes your chest ache.

You should let go.

You should be careful.

But instead, you lace your fingers through his.

Tighter. Certain.

You tilt your head, let a slow smile curve at your lips, and whisper back—

"Yeah."

A pause.

A flicker of something dangerous. Something real.

Then, his hand squeezes yours—a silent promise—before he finally lets go, slipping away into the crowd.

But this time, you don’t just feel his touch lingering on your skin.

You feel him everywhere.

And you already know—

This isn’t just some secret anymore.

It’s too much. Too intense, too deep, too important to be treated like something you can just hide forever.

You take a steadying breath, smoothing a hand over your dress, mentally preparing yourself to leave.

And that’s when you hear it.

A sharp click.

A hushed gasp.

A flicker of movement in your peripheral vision.

You turn your head—just in time to see a fan clutching their phone, eyes wide, staring straight at you.

The screen still glowing.

Still open to the camera app.

Your stomach drops.

The fan’s mouth parts like they might say something—might call out your name, might ask if what they just saw was real.

Your breath catches, a cold chill racing up your spine.

And then—

They take off.

Vanishing into the crowd.

With their phone.

With the photo.

With the secret you and Harry just lost.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[part 2]

Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like ❤️‍🔥

taglist:

@oscahpastry

@mema10

@angelbabyyy99

@iloveharrystyles04

@cinemharry

@drwho06

@donutsandpalmtrees

@panini

@mads3502

@imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa

@one-sweet-gubler

@rizosrizos26

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@run-for-the-hills

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@dipmeinhoneyh

@harrrrystylesslut

@georgiarose94

@stylestarkey

@watarmelon212

[ladycaramelswirl]

It Happened in Texas

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader ❤︎ Chapter 1: Apparently you have a magnet for shitty bosses

series masterlist

A/N: For plot purposes, Haley is not in the picture, but Jack does appear later in the story. Also I gave Strauss some of Linda Barnes’s personality so she’s really annoying :)

Tags/Warnings: mentions of violence typical to Criminal Minds. This becomes a comedy in chapter 2, but chapter 1 is very world/character-buildy, sorry 😭 It gets funnier I swear 🤡

The case in this chapter is loosely based on s3e8.

word count: 2k

Enjoy! 🤍

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Absolutely not”.

The dark-haired man tries to rein in his barely concealed anger at his boss, who, honestly, you weren’t exactly a huge fan of right now either. He gestures to you.

“I don’t know anything about her. It’s my job to decide whether someone is a good fit for the team”, he scowls. Frankly, you’re impressed that he hasn’t exploded.

“Agent Hotchner, I have hired her because I think she’s perfectly capable of doing the job”. 

You swallow a scoff. Sure. That’s why.

“My decision is final. And you have a case to get to”, Strauss snaps.

Agent Hotchner glares at her as she walks away. Then he turns his stare to you. 

“We’re leaving for a case in 10 minutes. Do you have your go bag?”, he asks, not unkindly.

“Yes sir.”

He nods and walks towards the BAU bullpen. You follow him. 

“I trust you’ll keep this altercation between us”, he tells you. “I don’t want the team to be distracted”.

“Yes, sir”.

“Just call me Hotch.”

“Yes, s- Hotch”.

He’s being pretty nice given the situation he’s been put in. But you wonder, not for the first time today, if you should have turned down this job.

————————————

15 minutes ago

“Come in”.

You step into the office of the blonde woman you’d interviewed with. She had been quite pleasant then.

“Assistant Director Strauss”, you greet her.

“Agent. Take a seat. I’d like to discuss some things before I introduce you to your unit chief”.

You wonder what the unit chief is like. You’d heard great things about Aaron Hotchner from your former colleagues. 

“As I’m sure you know this position at the BAU is a highly coveted opportunity”, she starts.

“Yes ma’am”.

“I’d like you to be comfortable here, so I hope we can work together to make that happen”.

Oh?

“Thank you ma’am. I’ll do my best.”

“Excellent! I’ll be expecting an additional personal report for all of your cases.”

“I’m sorry?”

She smiles at you like you’re stupid.

“Agent Hotchner might run a tight ship, but it’s my job to make sure it runs smoothly”, she tells you. “So I just need you to give me details about your cases. No need to mention it to Agent Hotchner, just write the report and send it straight to me.”

“You want me to report on the team? Without telling them?”

This was not what you signed up for.

She laughs mirthlessly. 

“It’s just a report agent. Think of it as a … peer evaluation. I just want to make sure there’s no issues. I’m sure you would understand. Especially after what happened in Houston?”

You grit your teeth. Of course she knew.

“Yes ma’am”.

You try to smile.

“I knew I was right to hire you”, she says. 

You both know you’re only here because she was the only one who accepted your transfer request. 

“Agent. If this conversation leaves this room, you’ll have to understand why I can no longer keep you on this team”.

Fantastic. You were already getting threatened on your first day. 

You plaster on a smile.

“Of course.”

She smiles back, just as fake.

“Great. Now I’ll introduce you to Agent Hotchner. You’ll have to forgive him for his … attitude”, she says contemptuously. “He’s going through a rough time”.

And now your boss was moody too? You were regretting come here by the second. 

Strauss presses the intercom button on her phone.

“Send him in”.

The door is opened by a tall, handsome man. He’s maybe in his late 30s, and he’s well dressed. He has authority figure written all over him, but he looks confused to see you.

“Assistant Director?”, he greets. You suspect it’s not often that he’s walked into a situation where he doesn’t know what’s happening. An exception being right now.

“Agent Hotchner, come in. I’d like you to meet Agent Y/L/N”.

He stretches a hand forward and you shake it. 

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise”.

He looks at Strauss. 

“What is this about?”

Strauss looks like she’s holding back a grin. 

“She’ll be joining the BAU effective immediately”.

Agent Hotchner looks like he’s just been handed a bomb.

———————————— 

Present

He doesn’t talk to you at all as you’re climbing into the jet. The team don’t pretend to hide their shock at your arrival. Hotch quickly introduces you and then takes a seat at the back. You politely smile at their wide eyes, but inside you try to fight the urge to turn around and go kick Strauss in the shin. She didn’t even tell them she was hiring you. Unbelievable. This day could not get any worse. The team starts asking you all sorts of questions. Hotch cuts them off.

“That’s enough. Brief us on the case JJ”.

They all follow his directive immediately. A pretty blonde woman who must be JJ hands everyone on the team a file. There’s a pause as everyone realises you don’t have one, because she didn’t know you would be here. A dark haired woman who introduces herself as Emily offers to share hers with you. You smile at her gratefully and try to be invisible as JJ briefs the team. 

—————————

Your first case is in Bridgewater, Florida. A girl has been found with her body eaten by alligators, her fingers cut off and a pentagram carved into her chest. It’s not exactly a great first day welcome. Hotch comes back from the coroner’s office with news that the victim had been force fed fingers before her death. And that none of them were hers, and six of them are index fingers. Remember when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse? This was definitely worse. You wince at the news and Emily looks at you with concern.

“You okay?”

You nod, but notice JJ and Agent Morgan discreetly share a dubious look. The latter turns to face you. 

“Field offices aren’t exactly the same as the BAU. If you’re not up to it-“

“I’m fine. I’d just like to catch the guy that did this”, you tell him. 

You refuse to look weak or feed into the suspicion that you don’t deserve to be here. Morgan stares at you before nodding in agreement and moving away to look over some files. You do the same to avoid any more conversation, and then notice something strange. You pull out a photo.

“This crime scene shows the books the victim was carrying were arranged into a neat row. This specific placement could suggest the unsub was at some point in a mental institution”.

Morgan looks doubtful, but still takes a look. 

Agent Reid springs up. “Of course! When the severely mentally ill are institutionalised, they’re taught to keep things clean and neat to promote order, exactly like the books in that photo!”

You’re a little speechless at his enthusiasm, but it seems his confirmation convinces the team, who now look a little less skeptical about your abilities. They call Garcia to check for names and update Hotch. Garcia calls back about a specific mental institution for a case like the one you’re looking for. Hotch immediately stands up to leave.

“Reid, let’s go”, he orders. The young genius scuttles after him. 

They find a name for the unsub, Floyd Feylinn Ferrel - a cannibal that believes he’s possessed by a flesh eating demon. He was also at the search party earlier to look for a missing girl. The team finds him, but one victim is still missing - Tracy Lambert. Floyd refuses to talk without Father Marks, the priest at his church. They bring him into the interrogation room with Morgan while you and Rossi pore over the sign in sheets from the search party. You frown. 

“Somethings wrong”, you mutter. The older agent looks at you in confusion.

“He signed the volunteer sheet, but not the search team sheet. It doesn’t make sense”, you say, handing him the papers. Usually unsubs joined the search team. Why would he just volunteer to be there?

“Father, I feel so alone. Like God has abandoned me”, Floyd laments. 

The priest shakes his head kindly. “You are not alone, my son. God is in all of us”.

Your stomach drops as you see exactly what Floyd had volunteered for - the food station. 

“We need to stop the interview”, you panic, flinging open the interrogation room door. 

Floyd stares right at you and grins. 

“So is Tracy Lambert”.

—————————

The plane ride back is quiet. You thankfully hadn’t eaten anything at the search, but you still feel nauseous. Is this what all BAU cases were like? Maybe it wasn’t too late to reapply somewhere else? Your unit chief interrupts your thoughts.

“Good job today Reid, we wouldn’t have caught him if you hadn’t noticed the books”, he says. You freeze in your seat, but the younger agent doesn’t notice your discomfort. In fact he barely looks up from his book to correct the unit chief. 

“Actually it wasn’t me that figured it out. It was y/n”.

Hotch looks taken aback and he turns to you, which leads to some awkward eye contact. He looks pained, but he gives you a nod and then moves to the back of the plane. 

Emily nudges your elbow from her seat next to yours. 

“You did good today. He’ll come around”, she tells you. 

“I really didn’t know that no one was informed of my transfer-”, you try to explain, but she stops you.

“I know better than anyone how you feel right now. As long as you do your job and are loyal to the team, everything’s going to be fine”. 

You nod. 

“Look, today was a rough case. We’re going for drinks when we land. Want to come?”, she offers.

You think about the report you’re about to write for Strauss tonight, detailing everything that just happened today. It’s going to take you hours to make sure it doesn’t incriminate anyone on the team. 

“No, I’m tired, but thanks. You guys have fun”.

On the drive home, you realise that you won’t ever be friends with them. You were a spy, even if you didn’t want to be. 

You had come here to escape. Instead, you had just traded one prison for another. 

————————————

Emily enters Penelope’s office to pick her up before drinks.

Penelope greets her with a guilty look.

“Ok. I did something, but don’t be mad. I looked into her file”.

“Pen!”

“What? She’s new, I don’t like new. And we don’t know anything about her. Don’t you want to know how she got hired without Hotch’s approval?”

Emily raises an eyebrow.

“I was hired without Hotch’s approval.”

Penelope gives her puppy eyes and Emily gives in.

“Fine. What did you find?”

The analyst practically lights up.

“Ok, so she graduated the FBI academy with high scores. Went straight to the Houston field office and she was very good at her job - excellent peer reviews and high scores on all of her evaluations”, Penelope starts, putting all of your personal data onto her screen. “Almost everything about her is perfect. Except-“, she clicks on a file. “About two months ago she suddenly requested a transfer to basically every department that was hiring and got rejected by almost all of them. Except ours”. 

Emily frowns. “She has stellar performance evaluations but no one wants to hire her? And why was she so desperate to transfer?”

“Yeah, I thought that was weird too, so I looked into it, but there’s nothing. Except that in her last month at Houston, she isn’t listed on a single one of their cases.”

“None?”

“It’s like she didn’t exist, but she was there every day, I checked her attendance and it’s flawless”.

Emily presses her lips together. She remembers how much she had tried to seal her own history. 

“I don’t think we should be looking anymore. If whatever happened isn’t in the database, then we aren’t meant to see it. She’ll tell us when she’s ready”.

Penelope looks apprehensive, but she closes the files. 

“She’s really nice! And she’s good, she helped us solve the case today”, Emily tries to convince the IT specialist. 

“I’m telling you something is fishy”.

Emily might not say it out loud, but she definitely agreed.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Chapter 2

[tonix3]

We're all 🤡 here - Group-hallucinations are a real thing: Update on The & An Observer on IG & X

I'll preface this with: give this (lilac) link a look. It's unbiased, just a documentation of all that has happened.

@fookinhellcurlyyy thank you, for your work for the fandom. I can't wait for this to be a big bad archive of literally everything important & dear to us. You're my hero 💓🙏🏻 my first & loveliest Larrie friend. But you don't really know, how much I value you as a friend.🥹 Love you to pieces 🫶🏻

SPREADSHEET - EVERY MOVEMENT DOCUMENTED

(you can click on everything: it has links screenshots, dates, additional info and so on)

--------

I WANT TO HOLD IT SHORT & BRIEF BECAUSE YOU CAN ALL FORM YOUR OWN OPINION WITH THE HELP OF THE ABOVE LINK

------

The happenings & my thoughts (during and after) follow now:

All Observer posts linked

Beginning of TO/AO on IG

Today's rant regarding TO & the fandom

The day starts with an article about Brianna & Freddie by The S*n. - New papwalk, fresh pics, breaking down the past ten years. Interesting.

After Zouis the next post follows on Insta from An Observer at 13:00 (UK TIME) and 20 mins later an additional post from The Observer on X.

The triangle gives no results when searching. After the additional tweet I waver from searching the triangle to trying to make something of the color.

Same Gemma, same.

After hours of people not finding anything someone says they can see faces in the little black shapes.

Everybody starts seeing faces or pictures of the boys. 😭 Which is kinda hilarious afterwards but if you asked me yesterday, I was just creeped out about the creepy faces I could see after staring at this longer and longer with my tired brain.

When I wanted to go to bed TO pops up with a sitcom quote featuring a sun reference (😉😉😉) from actor John Clegg.

That's me (below) saying everyone should chill and still tweaking about the triangle.

Today AO posts a guitar peek at 14:00 UK Time.

Same steel, new stories. - NEW STORIES !!!! (important soon)

40 mins later the follow - up of TO

@/ Larrysbestie28 finds the triangle reference.

The shoot features some white chucks we may have seen on a papwalk a few days prior and also had a Love Island headline 😉 (I'm literally laughing like an insane person right now)

Everyone was occupied with trying to see faces until someone debated looking into what Clegg also did - write books.

And then Lewis wants to kill us. (17:09 UK TIME)

I got the TO notification first (which could be because IG is a bit slower with notifications) before seeing that Louis posted a story too. (Counting one story 😉)

Now is the time to watch the video in the lilac link under the favorite tweet because you will see it is just around 40 seconds apart. How lucky would the TO scammer be to see that this fast (when notifications are slower?) and post it in under a minute.

Coincidentally so lucky with their tweets. ✨ 🤡

He also liked Zaras new pic and the timestamp 1:14 of the song shows these lyrics. (THE NEWEST CLOWN 🤡🤡🤡 🙂‍↕️)

Also the song is about a long-term relationship, you know.

And then he wants to kill me again. Posting a guitar picture on the day of AO posting a guitar picture.

SO UNLUCKY. THE UNIVERSE LITERALLY HATES THEM. (2nd story - NEW STORIES 😉)

And you know what this little shit does? He deleted the damn story again‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

(also look at what's scrabbled on it! please STFU)

SO SORRY IF IM CRASHING OUT BUT WE ARE LITERALLY RE - LIVING RBB AND LOUIS IS THE OBSERVER

You heard it here first. In a few years this will be head canon, you can all thank me later, hahhhahahahahahahhaha

Believe me @delicateperspective , @fookinhellcurlyyy and me are trying to debunk this (them more than me, I have to admit 😅)

but you know, I'm standing by it until proven otherwise.

And if this turns out to be fake, I am not ashamed of clowing. It's not delusional to hope that he revived RBB because we have a storm coming at us maybe (regarding bbg), hopefully this will end on a positive note.

Stay positive,

stay kind,

talk soon, peeps. 🫶🏻✨

[seris-the-amious]

Orange Kisses | Fluff

// So basically I had a fever, messily ate an orange, and then thought of Z a y n e 🤡🙏

Sypnosis: Whilst also wanting to prove that surgeons aren't the only people who could skillfully peel fruits, you snack on an orange while waiting for Zayne to come home and found yourself in a silly predicament of your beloved Doctor wanting to have more than just a share of your little snack

Warning: we get showered with kisses! and probably slightly OOC Zayne :,)

// Note: First time writing with him and SOMEWHAT proofread!

Date Posted: 3-24-25

*ding!*

Zaynie: Have you eaten yet?

Zaynie: Ive finished my shift at the hospital.

You: Mm, not yet. Im on my way to the kitchen to get fruit

Zaynie: Wait for me, i'm on my way.

Zaynie: I believe that if another "Bandy Banana" band-aid were to go missing from its packet, their comrades might begin to get suspicious.

// A/n: ..I actually did get a small cut from cutting the orange...

You: You make it seem like i'm "eager" for another injury

You: P l u s, it was only one or two times! And you were always there, maybe my cutting skills are better when you aren't here ;))

(Zaynie reacted with: 🤨)

You: And Bandy was just doing its job until he got promoted to being placed in the bin, that should motivate their colleagues to do better

Sighing after recieving another one of his naggings, you put your phone down onto the countertop before grabbing a saucer from the cabinet and grabbing whatever fruit you could salvage from the pantry

Fruit of the day: O r a n g e!

It's been a while since you've eaten these juicy little buggers, but ever since you began dating your beloved doctor, you've been more inclined to eating more fruits as snacks. You eagerly set down your fruit to grab a knife and cut it like so:

(Yes this was taken on the day of the fever-)

You take a half-powered bite hoping to suck out the juice yourself only to make a mini mess on the table within and surrounding the small plate, trying to hold off anymore of tangy liquid spreading. you firmly hold your pose as is, slowing down the descent of juice encasing your fingers

You quickly bite off the remaining flesh the poor slice had to offer before moving onto the next, it wasn't long before you've almost covered the lower-half of your face in the citrus-y substance

Hearing the click of your apartment door, you quickly grab a paper towel to clean your little fruit montage, rushing to greet your beloved.

"Im home, my love" he exclaims as he sets aside his shoes beside yours, you were quick to eagerly cup his face with both hands saying "welcome back, doctor"

It barely takes a moment for Zayne to feel the invading scent of the sweet-and-sour fruit. He puts his hand above yours, leaning his head onto it

"I see someone was impatient and decided to make a mess while I was gone" he gently leads his hand holding yours towards his lips giving them small pecs as if trying to salvage what little remnance was left

You giggle as his small pecs turn into bigger nibbles "theres still some left on the table, you know?"

He makes a small hum of acknowledgement "I prefer if nothing went to waste.." he momentarily pulls away, still holding your hand.

"And besides, you missed a spot." He plants a sudden, lingering kiss on your jawline where your citrus-y mess once laid . You giggle at the sudden intrusion as he steps back to look at you, eyes batting to your lips almost in an instant

Much to his dissapointment, you place your index finger on his lips

"Ah ah. clean up first, and then..." You gently let go of his hand to brush away the stray bangs from his tired face

"You can eat."

-------

"See, didn't I do a great job? No Bandy Bananas were harmed in the process!" You chirped as you hugged Zayne from behind the counter, who's now wearing his usual black button-up shirt examining a singular orange slice on his hand

"Still,," he grabs the small knife and begins to peel the remaining skin

"Hey you're supposed to hold it there" you grumbled

He shakes his head and grabs the lone flesh and eats it whole without trouble, he positions it to the side of his cheek in order for him to still be able to talk

He turns to you with crossed arms "No mess. Thats why I told you to wait" he lightly boops your nose

You roll your eyes "Alright fine, Doctor-Darling-Obvious but I still" Once again you cup his face with a little force earning yourself a grunt from him

"Made my point about cutting fru-"

A singular bead of orange juice trickles down the side of his lips from the force of your hold, upon realization, Zayne quickly swallows the slice, and within a beat you decide to tease him

" 'No Mess'? " you cackled as he looks at you unamused by your antics

"That was your doing." He scoffed about to turn away to look for tissue as you grab his chin forcing him to look back at you

"Ok ok, i'll bare the 'responsibility' " you chuckle

You lean in to kiss off the trail of citrus from his jawline going up stopping right where hes been wanting you to be at making his breath hitch

"I believe my work here is done!" You snicker as you put both your hands on your hips seeing him pout

"Need I repeat myself once more?" He mutters, his tone visibly going lower

"Sorry?- H E Y" He leaves you no room to react as he finally pulls you into a long awaited kiss before quickly pulling back to reply

"You." He kisses your jaw

"Missed" Another to your lower lip

"A." Then the corner of your lips

"Spot." Finally to your lips once more, the kiss slow, long and savory

You both pull away to catch your breathes, Zayne licks his lips to savor the fruit's left-over tangy flavor

You have a silly smile plastered your face which was progressively turning more and more red, you glance at Zayne whos looking away ever do composed, yet his pinkish ears tell a different story on what he's truly feeling.

"Has.." you began, slowly regaining your composure "The doctor not been eating well again?"

"Mm. It's enough"

"Zayneee..." >:l you nudge him, this man can scold you for an enternity for eating instant food(and not even regularly!) Yet he has tendencies to starve and live off from the vending machine

He chuckles. He finds it endearing you care for him just as much as he does for you, and would never trade it for anything else

And he'll make sure of it by...

"Then, will you do the honor of satiating this poor Doctor who came back from his shift?"

He takes a step forward

..You take one back

And then another..

And another... a grin slowly forming on your lips before breaking into a sprint around the apartment

You didn't hear his footsteps follow right after meaning you got a headstart, and you decided to turn and seek refuge in your room

Giggline to yourself as you thought you locked the door-

You get tackled by a familiar force landing on your bed and begin to shriek in laugher

Ah no wonder, he knew where you'd be.

"WAIT- AHAIEH- NONO Z A Y N E- HOW- N OOO" He holds you captive as he began peppering your face with quick kisses, laughter fills the apartment to be contained only for the both of you to enjoy

A myriad of kisses later, you both cuddle and relish in the peaceful silence

"Zayne?" you called, snuggling in his embrace

He hummed, acknowledging your voice

"I love it when we do this... I love-- you " you smile contently to yourself

He pulls you closer to him and tightens his hold, as if you'd get up in any moment

"...I love you too"

// AAA FINALLY! Sorry if the end seemed pretty dull and rushed, I really wanted to get this over with and post, it was originally much shorter than this but I realized it wasn't enough to make sense given the title- constructive criticism appreciated!

MASTERLIST

[suosgirl]

Hello! I just gotta tell you how much I loved your "Shishtoren's princess" ☺️💖 it had me giggling and kicking my feet, I swear 🤭

I hope you don't mind me requesting a much needed suo (plus any other chatacter if u want) x reader who's always tired (totally not self endulgent 🤡).

Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to 😊

- 🐮 anon

Sleep is for the Weak (is it though?)

Word Count: 544

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x f!reader

୨ৎ Warnings: fluff (sickening fluff, like tooth-rotting fluff)

୨ৎ Note: The way that I felt so seen with this request HAHA and thank you so much for the sweetest words!! I work 2 jobs and literally I always feel like there’s never enough time in the day nor enough time to sleep so I am perpetually tired all the time. I run on iced coffee and a dream (and nicotine) haha…ha. But I really loved writing this ahhhh it was incredibly self-indulgent on my end as well!!! Thank you for the fun request my 🐮 lovebug anon!!! ♡

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

♡ Suo’s an observant guy – within just hanging out with eachother a handful of times, he already noticed the little yawns that you cover your hand with or the sudden bursts of blinking that you do when you find yourself nodding off.

♡ The first time he notices it, he thinks that maybe you’ve just had a restless night … but then he sees you a couple days later and he’s seeing it again.

♡ Now he’s noticing it every time you guys are together (and even when you’re not).

♡ Sometimes you’ll be texting and it’ll go silent on your end for at least 30 minutes to an hour or two – and then he’ll get a little ping from his phone and it’s you apologizing and saying that you just woke up from a nap.

♡ He won’t admit that he thinks it’s cute and turns it on you instead.

♡ “I guess I’m not interesting enough to keep you awake :(“

♡ And then the teasing transcends from text to in-person.

♡ He sees you try to hide your little yawn by turning your face into your shoulder and he’s going in.

♡ “Oh? Is it nap time?”

♡ “Was that a yawn, my sleepy girl?”

♡ His favorite thing about teasing you while you’re tired is that you simply don’t have enough energy to banter back with him – all you can do is pout and slowly blink at him (you’re angry in lowercase).

♡ He hates that he’s weak for it.

♡ “Don’t be silly, lay on my shoulder.”

♡ For as much as he teases you though, he’s just as thoughtful.

♡ If you both are out with everyone, he’s already set a curfew in mind for when you both should leave so that you can rest.

♡ “Are you ready to leave, sleepyhead?”

♡ Absolutely loves tucking you in – it’s so domestic and sickeningly sweet but sometimes you’ll mutter a soft “thank you” and it has his heart beating just a tad faster.

♡ Bonus points: pull on his sleeve when he’s about to leave and he’s smitten.

♡ “Ah, well if you insist, love.”

♡ “Come on – scoot over, sleepy girl.” 

♡ If you enjoy drinking coffee, he likes that too.

♡ There’s just something about looking down and seeing his cup of tea next to your coffee – like coffee is just so you and tea is just so him. 

♡ When you lay your head in his lap, he melts at the sight. Sometimes he’ll just appreciate your beauty while you doze off. 

♡ He listens to your soft breathing and runs his hands through your hair. If he’s in the mood, will let his eyes close alongside yours.

♡ Anytime you have plans together, always asks if you’re up for it. If you’re just too tired – that’s okay! 

♡ He would never want you to push your body or force yourself to do something that you don’t have the energy for – simply just pats your head and asks what you’d like to do instead.

♡ Despite what you would think, doesn’t get mad at all that you fall into fits of sleep when you’re around him – because he gets to make sure that you’re resting.

[redo-rewind-if]

Hi everyone! Got an exciting report for y'all this week!! 😉

Next Update (Chapter 4):

Opening: 100%

Avoid August/Confront Him: 100%

A Normal Day at Work: 100%

You Can Fix This, Right? 🤡: 100%

Keep Your Friends Close...: 100%

Avoidant Route: 100%

Finally, I've finished writing Chapter 4!! All that's left to do is edit, code, and bug test. Allowing myself some wiggle room in case I make any big edits or run into a particularly stubborn bug, I estimate it will take me 2-3 weeks to complete.

I'm hoping for only 2 more weeks (maybe even less), but we'll have to see how things go. I should have a better idea by the end of next week and will update y'all then. 😊

[chronicdisasterwrites]

gamer!eren boyfie: minecraft edition

dating gamer eren is exhausting and exhilarating

like i can imagine him being such an ASS when you play a game w him - if you’re a noob, he will tease the SHIT outta you, but if you’re more or less experienced he might tone it down (maybe)

when you play minecraft together he would go on the craziest raids and just teleport you to him out of nowhere with no warning, just for you to fuckin EAT DIRT-

and when you die and lose all your stuff he’ll just laugh and be like “hah noob”

although, he’ll be sweet too 🫶🏽

like he’d definitely tame a wolf and name it after you

“babe babe look at my little friend-”

if you’re new to minecraft, he’d definitely help you out along the way.

“um beb? please don’t hit me, i will actually die”

“but it’s so fun-“ he will kill you if you don’t listen and continue hitting him, don’t test out that theory 💀

he would protect you from skeletons and creepers bc bro idc how experienced you are THEY ARE TERRIFYING

if you get lost, he’d get your coordinates and go find you

and then end up getting lost himself bc he saw smth cool and you moved to a completely different place as well 🤷🏽‍♀️

he for sure made his wolf sit somewhere and ended up forgetting about the poor thing 🤡 (i did this omfg-)

jean, connie, armin and sasha would join in as well and they would just be absolute menaces

one time, your wolf accidentally killed eren’s wolf and this petty bitch STILL brings that up in arguments

no matter how much eren and jean argues, they always go on raids together and they’re actually really good at communicating and fighting together

you started to build an underwater house w armin’s help and eren got jealous so he wanted to live there as well

let’s be real, he got jealous of your house, not you and armin 😌

bc his house looks like ass

this boy thinks he’s really good at architecture but he is so basic GAWD- you let him have his moments tho

he definitely teleports you to him whenever he finds cool things tho like one time you guys were looking for a village and he ended up finding a beautiful meadow with so many flowers and he collected a bunch of flowers and threw them all at you 🥹

he’s so cute

a/n: is this taken from real life? yes 🫶🏽 also i will make more of these gamer!eren imagines bc i love gamer!eren

also, help me out bc idk if i should add the taglist to every single fic/imagine i write. should i?

[cokoweee]

Heavens to Betsy I’ve been meaning to go on this rant forever but I keep forgetting for some reason

Quick disclaimer- I’m not analyzing your comic at all, I just notice little accuracies that make me happy.

~

Ok coming from a psychology major student, your description of PTSD and mental health issues is actually pretty dang good. Idk if it was intentionally researched or not but there’s like a ton of stuff that’s consistent with real life trauma and it’s quite frankly impressive

Again not sure if this was intentional or not but the thing on his back reminds me so much of old school electroshock therapy which I adore bc

A: it causes confusion and memory loss which you’ve shown and

B: kinda implies that maybe he did his own research when deciding how to deal with everything or

C: again is incredibly accurate in the fact that most trauma patients continuously seek pain out, and in turn report feelings of extreme boredom and numbness when not actively experiencing pain or reliving trauma. In his case going borderline catatonic when he’s not freaking out.

On the topic of “freaking out” a lack or decrease in serotonin leads to a more reactive and intense episodes in PTSD. Or, because the little guy is like mega depressed coz of the whole situation, he gets way more intense and violent episodes that someone who was on like Prozac. And would tend to be more on edge and sensitive to triggers.

Then there’s his family. For some background, there’s a part of your brain called the amygdala. It typically works to control basic emotions, but responds very well to fear. In traumatic experiences, it pairs with the hippocampus (the memory center of the brain) to store vivid and occasionally sensory memories.

When a memory trigger is provoked and brought back into consciousness, it actually changes slightly depending on the context of which it recalled. Those memories are changed to fit how we make sense of them. So if he feels guilty for his brothers death, then his memories will reflect it whether or not it’s actually true.

Essentially, him having his brothers showing up all the time (looking the way they do) is really bad for him on multiple levels, and not just because they’re triggering visually. They’re like actually impeding his ability to recover by keeping him in an aggressive form of already intense fight or flight that comes from trauma.

On a happier note, one of the best ways to improve is to establish and nurture caring relationships. Awww

Aight ima stop here so I don’t bore you to death with random psych facts, but like kudos to you my dude because I could go on forever about some of the stuff in there

Uh yeah

-writing anon 🤡

WRITING ANON? SLAPPING OUT ANALYSISSISIS AND SHIT?

Bein real I dont do much research on shit even tho I should. I just go off what I’ve seen/ learned throughout the years. It’s always good to hear I’m doin ahit right tho!

Lowkey right with the shock tho. Or high key lol. Seeking pain there’s other ways people do it but mmm somehow this seemed the tamest way. Oh writing anon u silly lil saltine cracker

[hey-august]

A Line from Me to You - Chapter 4

Description: Buggy finds a peculiar book on his ship. Enticed by the words contained on each page, the pirate opens up. Anonymity leads to vulnerability. What else will come from this? (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, check out the story tag)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: This chapter is SFW, but that changes next chapter!! Buggy x afab!reader.

A/N: Defnitely messed up posting this the first time around. 🤡Posting from my phone, so let me know if it looks weird!

Tag list: @lostfirefly @rorywritesjunk @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“Maybe you should pick the next book.”

Buggy would have considered writing those words as admitting defeat if it wasn’t for how shaky your last note was. He could see each jump and jolt your hand made while asking for something less intense than the books Buggy picked.

After you both filled the end pages of “Rocks on the River” with enough saltwater to rival the ocean, Buggy offered another story from his backlog. The third novel you read together was a horrifying tale that pushed the readers into a toxic miasma of fear, paranoia, and unease, which oozed into their real lives.

The whole ship rang with a piercing shriek from the captain when an unfortunate freak tapped his shoulder from behind. A usually common occurrence was tainted by an early scene from the book. Buggy knew the touch wasn’t from grotesquely plump spiders descending from the ceiling, even though he screamed something that sounded like, “Get it the fuck off of me.” 

After reading a chapter full of creepy-crawlies, every small sensation left his blue hair standing on end, which only created a nerve wracking loop. Every breeze and rustle of fabric teased his prickled skin, mimicking the feel of grubby little arachnid and insectoid legs scurrying across his body. The sensation only went away after a frantic midday wash with near-boiling water and the roughest washcloth Buggy could find. After sloughing off more than one layer of skin, the pirate felt confident that he was clean and not infested.

You, on the other hand, had boasted about not being scared of the terrors held within the book. Unlike the invasive imaginary critters Buggy was battling, you were as snug as a bug in a rug when you curled up in bed to read each night. The chilling entities weren’t real, and if they were, you felt safe on the ship.

“I’m just saying, if soul-sucking bats were attacking, I would trust C. Buggy to protect m us.” 

As much as you tried to turn the start of “me” into “us,” the letters didn’t flow right. Rather than drawing attention to the slip-up by completely blacking out the convex letter, you simply crossed it out and hoped the other reader wouldn’t notice.

“I dunno, what if he hid from those horrid fucking things? I wouldn’t blame him, honestly…”

“Maybe��but I trust him.”

“He’s the captain, you’re supposed to trust him.”

“That’s not the only reason.”

You didn’t realize what you wrote until you punctuated the sentence by stabbing the page. Your hand moved quickly and defensively, upset by the assumption that your feelings were obligatory. Your fingers twitched as you restrained the flow of words. Your trust wasn’t unearned, it had grown over time. The seed was planted when you were welcomed to the ship with open arms and watered by his laughter and jokes, the care he held for his eclectic freaks, the little questions he’d ask about their lives at sea, and the flashy stories he pushed them weave. The roots reached deep, following the curve of his smile and tracing the crinkles in the corner of his eyes. 

The trust might have been obligatory at the beginning, but it had since blossomed into more. You weren’t ready to acknowledge the blooms and definitely weren’t going to share the unnamed feelings with a stranger.

Thankfully, Buggy’s preference for avoiding uncomfortable discussions kept him from prying further. His nightly alcohol whispered in a heated voice. It said he should ask, that he deserves to know why you trusted him so much. The voice grew quieter the longer he let the amber liquid sit untouched. Sure, a part of him was interested, but you didn’t elaborate for a reason. Thinking back to “Rocks on the River,” you never pressured him to write more about his childhood friend. Curiosity peeked through some of your notes, but it never confronted him. And he couldn’t bring himself to do that to you, so he moved onto the next section of the story.

This time, you completed the book first. Usually, you refrained from reading while on duty, but finishing the horror novel under a full moon in the crow’s nest seemed like a fitting end. Settled under an inky expanse that spilled into the still sea, you read words illuminated by moonlight. It didn’t take long for the whispers of subtle waves to take on an ominous tone. The rattling of the gently swaying ship became inhuman guttural groans. 

Creaks from other crew members on duty became less frequent and far less comforting. Their footsteps and shadows were no longer welcoming - they were unsettling and teased your fraying hold on reality. Seated so high above the others, you had no way of knowing if the life on deck were familiar or fiendish freaks. Laughter carried on the wind wasn’t jovial, but sinister. You tried to close the book, to stop the words from pulling you deeper into their dark world, but it didn’t work. You were already lost in fear and needed to claw your way out.

---

Buggy figured you would spend the night reading and woke up early to see if the book would be ready for him. He slipped the third annotated book into an interior coat pocket and headed to breakfast. Only a few pirates filled the hall - a mix of those eating their first meal of the day and those filling their stomachs before sleep. Despite the differences, everyone embraced the quiet morning and only the sounds in the room came from cutlery against plates, mugs on the wooden tables, and open-mouthed chewing. It would be a normal scene, except for you. Unlike the others, who were stuck in the cozy twilight at either end of sleep, you sat wide-eyed and jittery in front of a sparse meal. The captain approached the corner you cowered in like a scared animal.

“You alright? Something happen last night?” His voice was pulled low with concern.

Your eyes darted around the room, afraid of missing some unknown monster during this conversation. “I’m fine. Just tired. It was a long night.” You shivered slightly, fear and anxiety still running their courses through your body.

“Hey,” Buggy whispered softly as he crouched low, his leather boots creaking with the movement. “You sure that’s all?” His hand rested on the bench next to you. He wanted to reach out and keep you from shaking, but a different fear kept him from moving.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, looking everywhere but at the man in front of you. 

A moment of silence let you know the answer wasn’t accepted. You glanced at him a few times before getting stuck in the deep pools within his eyes. It always happened to you so easily - his pupils were large and dark enough for you to fall in those ocean-colored eyes without a second thought. Buggy raised his eyebrows, the movement also tugging the tip of his round nose, and tilted his head to the side. He could see through the flimsy facade you were hiding behind, so you let it go and took a deep breath. 

“It was a really long night, Captain. I think I’ll feel better after sleeping. I’m okay, really.” You emphasized the last word by nudging his gloved hand with yours. Just the smallest amount of touch to let him know you were being honest.

Buggy nodded and left without another word. Any details you were reluctant to share were housed in the book sitting in his pocket. 

---

The rest of the story that was written in the novel and documented your night  was devoured in his quarters, while the plate of breakfast sitting a hands-reach away on the desk grew cold. It was a different experience to read a horror book during the day, when the bright sunlight eliminated any errant shadows and kept the unknowns that resided in the dark at bay. Still, the author was skilled enough for goosebumps to cover the pirate’s body. He ran his hands along his arms and legs to iron away the physical response. 

As Buggy soothed his own unsettled nerves, he thought about you. How scared you must have been, alone and in the dark. How the fear followed you through the morning and you couldn’t shake the feeling. Literally. For a brief moment, Buggy imagined holding your trembling body, just as he was holding his own. Would you trust your captain enough to let him protect you from a fear response?

Although the pirate couldn’t bring himself to comfort you physically, he had an idea that could work. Filling with bubbling excitement, he sprang out of the desk chair, nearly toppling it in the process, and sprinted out of the room. A moment later, a lone hand whizzed back to toss his reading glasses on the bed and close the door.

---

You woke up as the sun was turning in for the evening, surprised that you managed to fall asleep. Thinking back, you might have actually passed out from exhaustion and worry. The orange glow now painting the walls in your room was comforting. You stretched your limbs to bring them back to life and put your arms behind your head. 

Staring at nothing in particular gave your mind permission to pursue its own entertainment, so it drifted back to the paranoia and apprehension you thought had left. Threads of their presence remained and tugging at them brought pieces of the story. Examining those moments was easier in the golden light, but as the warmth receded and night returned, so did the unease. Rather than staying inside and alone, you hoped to find companionship and protection with the late night crewmates.

Waiting just outside your room was the smell of fried food and smoked meat to keep you company. As you wandered the belly of the ship, you passed your mates filling their own bellies with greasy food and alcohol. The ebb and flow of movement seemed to be going to and coming from the deck. Following the alluring scents of popcorn, cotton candy, and sweet dough, you stepped into the open air. 

String lights adorned the ship, traipsing from mast to mast, illuminating the sails, and snaking around the deck railing. Hundreds of lights bounced on the rippled sea, creating a bubble of light that was periodically outdone by the handmade fireworks launched into the sky. As sparks rained down in a beautiful rendition of a meteor shower, you caught the silhouette of the captain standing at the helm of the ship. If anyone knew what ignited tonight's floating festival, it would be the man in charge.

You weaved your way across the deck, grabbing two bottles of beer on the way. Having learned from earlier events and rumors among the crew, you stomped your feet a little louder than usual to let Buggy know you were approaching, so he wouldn’t be caught off guard and attempt to swat you away in surprise. When he turned to see who the visitor was, you offered him a drink.

“Are we celebrating something special?”

“There doesn’t have to be a reason to have a party,” Buggy said, as though you should know better. “Besides, my crew always deserves a night like this!” He spread his arms and gestured all around him.

Despite the bright lights, enough of the night hung around to hide the blush on your cheeks. Eager to hide the heat behind alcohol, you held out your bottle. “Then here’s to us!” 

Buggy tapped his bottle against yours harder than he expected, causing a fountain of bubbles to overflow from both containers. You both leaned in to stop the spills before taking a proper drink. 

Little did you know, this was his first drink of the evening. Buggy, who was known to spend nights with his sloshing spirit in hand, had planned when and how much alcohol would be available. He considered how to drag out the crowds and stagger the inevitable crash as people blacked out and passed out. The pirate captain wasn’t sure how successful he’d be against soul-sucking bats, but every detail that would chase away another dark and lonely night was taken into account.

[marengogo]

came across this thread today, the op was saying how Army don’t stream for the members equally, and that we all should love all their music.

I’m lucky I do, and I don’t agree necessarily with the thread, but is there some truth to it? Have the company sabotaged the members? Do they care about their solo careers?

I get the feeling they do and don’t. As in, they respected the decision for them to go solo but only to a degree, bc I can see there was some errors, or fumbles along the way, and each solo fan base that’s come along be it Army or vile solos, has a gripe.

Is it bc the members just want to be in the group? To me they keep saying it, Jimin said it to Yoongi, so you have him being so successful in his solo debut, and gaining awards and records left and right, but to Yoongi he says the group comes first. Obviously solos ignore this, are demanding pjm 3 already, think he’s going to act next, and want a world tour next year. Are they going to be disappointed? Or will Army?

How do you think this will look next year and beyond?

The one thing I do agree with the person about it getting them to do weird things when the come back, maybe not Run but kinda, the childish things surely should be left at the door? Not bc they weren’t good, but they are all nearly 30 plus.

Dear Anon,

Thank you for stopping by with this Ask 🙏🏾. There’s actually been many, very interesting Asks that have been sent, which deserve an answer but this one has topics I’ve been meaning to talk about since June but business and laziness have been reigning supreme in my neck of the woods so … with regards to; How I view Chapter 1.5. Cause you see, we call it Chapter 2, for obvious reasons, but I am almost certain that on an episode of Suchwita one of the boys mentioned how their coming back together as a band would be what they consider Chapter 2, which you could be thinking “Tomatoh, Tomahto”, but I think it is a very distinctive chapter in the story of their lives, which deserves its proper nomenclature.

So, thanks to you, I am basically going to be ranting, educatedly as always, and because I have been seriously frustrated about many points within your Ask, I will be probably be at an all time sarcasm, but I want to say this now, please rest assured, it is not directed at you at all mainly at majority of the people on the blue Bird App 🤡. I will do my best to obviously answer all your questions in the process, however, if I were to fail in doing so, please feel free to write back and say “Yo, you pansy-ass Marengo, you did everything but answer my questions, where my answers at?!” 🫰🏾💜. 

And that’s it for my preface disclaimer, now, may the rant commence!

CHAPTER 1.5 WAS MEANT FOR ARMY

There is a disconnect. 

There is a massive disconnect between the Tannies and many ARMY, which was created due to our future’s uncertainty, mixed with dreadful tales from the past. One thing we tend to forget, sometimes, is that these boys are de facto from South Korea. In the past couple of years, no matter how global they get, the way the Western Music Industry has been “dealing” with them nominating them for grammys, but never winning, not wanting them to be on radio, etc, added to the way they are treated in their very own home worse than criminals upon making mistakes, only good for trophies and tourism, etc has heavily emphasised this fact for me.

And then the biggest one of all; SK’s Conscription aka Compulsory Military Service. Few have been given exemptions, based on having done waaaay less than our boys many a politician son is within this as well …, and there was a period between 2020 and 2021 where I wished they could be exempted. My opinion changed since then, but in all honesty, regardless of what the government would decide, or what Koreans felt about it, deep down, both them, as well as ourselves, knew that they would be going. That being understood, it was now a case to be confronted with the sad history that idols who go for their service tend to be forgotten and can never really make a successful comeback. Hence, as Korean men, they must have worried about this like crazy, 18 months are, after all, a lot of days to ask for someone to wait in their case it was a total of almost 3 years.

Blue Bird ARMY: B1tch! I’d wait even 10 years for the boys, what the hell are you on about?! … Yeah well, it wasn’t just waiting for us though, was it? hyb3 is going through its fair amount of sh1t, and random nugus and their mamas keep trying to smear the boys’ name every other business day. It’s been hard AF for us going through it, and I am sure for them as well, not being able to be here with us while we go through it. Missing each other has been a major issue as well, but, speaking about missing, let’s go back to the disconnect I was talking about. Here is the situation:

Tannies - “I don’t want to leave ARMY, I’m so scared they will forget me, but at the same time, I need some time alone, so perhaps this is a good time as any to wander alone, for a bit, while providing ARMY with something they can remember me by, hopefully appreciate, and mostly enjoying, just while we are apart for a while. Basically, I get to explore and have new goals, before having to serve but all the while I’ll keep my lovely ARMY entertained: WIN-WIN!”.

ARMY - “I don’t want the Tannies to leave but they have to, so, somehow, I have to show how much I appreciate them and how there is no way in hell I could ever forget them- BUT HOLD ON … he got a concert, but my bias didn’t … global superstar? What is my fav then? Chopped liver? … Jazz?? Why the hell should I listen to that, when we have a great pop song … The company doesn’t care about my fav, why are they even here, they should leave! … Family? What family, they never wanted to be together to begin with, as soon as the military is over, each one will go their separate way, mark my words … 🤡.

We are on completely different mental and emotional planes.

I am sure the boys are super happy with all the goals and achievements they made while being away, and I am positive they didn’t think any of this was possible while they were not around, but if even it were to happen, they probably thought ARMY would do it like they always have, together. Instead, forget about antis and boycotters for a second, we presently have to deal with solos and shippers within our fandoms, who have taken it into their own hands to redefine this chapter as a time of belligerent independence, instead of creative, and peaceful, waiting. 

I think the boys didn’t want us to try and free them from the very environment they are basically responsible for creating, I think they wanted us to still be here united in said environment, while enjoying 7 different trips along the way, but yeah, some of us completely misread the map, some of us are lost as hell within one of the 7 trips, and some other just didn’t go on the journey waiting for the boys to be back on the “initial” path.  

IT’S NOT ABOUT LIKING, IT’S ABOUT SUPPORTING

If rap is not your cup of tea, it would be ludicrous to ask you to suddenly become an aficionado. Nobody is asking that. Take for example a close friend of mine. They are an OT7 who didn’t like one of the solo albums that were released this year, regardless, they streamed it so hard you’d think the person was their fav. They might have put extra emphasis on their bias, but they were never below par when it came to all other 6 members, because they understood the assignment, and they respected the “teachers”. 

875 is a group composed of 3 rappers and 4 vocalists. Within this subdivision there are pop lovers, jazz lovers, dance lovers, alternative & indie lovers and epic production lovers. This isn’t a novelty, it’s always been like this. They’ve never hid it, it was always all out in the open, so what’s different now? Why are people acting surprised at Jin choosing the happy route or Hobi focusing on dancing? Blue Bird ARMY: “But they are also individuals, they deserve to shine in their individuality” Well, yes. But if all we do is being too busy fvcking up the only environment that allows them to freely be said individuals, where the fvck else are they going to do that?! I mean HYB3 may be the devil incarnate, but it is always better the devil you know the world out there is seriously fvcked up; SERIOUSLY FVCKED UP. 

Furthermore, let me tell you another giant problem about being a solo, shipper, or one eyed fan; you can’t see the bigger picture. The bigger picture is not important because just because it is pretty, like sure, trophies and accolades are great and all, but we are here supposedly for the music, but also because we think these 7 young men are just exquisite. Blue Bird ARMY: “And what if you think that only 1 is and the others should disappear?” And this is the part I’m gonna "spell out":

That 👏🏾, my blue birded ARMY friend, is 👏🏾 exclusively 👏🏾 your 👏🏾own 👏🏾 fvcking 👏🏾 problem 👏🏾.

Not everything is a fvcking conspiracy, the Tannies have said time and time and time again how they want to be together on stage, so what’s with all the forced narratives, uh? And you see, people who didn’t watch Suchwita wouldn’t know it, people who didn’t watch Are You Sure wouldn’t know it, people who don’t watch Run Jin wouldn’t know it, heck people who only watch their fave WEVERSE live wouldn’t know it. No matter how much you want to surround yourself of just your fave, it is fundamental to understand that this boys are surrounded by each other, because in reality, they can truly only trust the 7 of them. Period.  

So when you are blocking out Tae, because you are a jkker, know that you are also blocking out a part of jkk. When you are ignoring the rapline, because you like the maknae line only, know that you are also ignoring a part of the maknae line. When you are disrespecting 6 members because you are just a JK solo, know that you are also disrespecting JK. This is a paramount concept to understand, for real, we should never be forced to like, but we need to learn to respect and properly support, because supporting each member makes it easier to help each of them reach their goals, as they won’t have to worry about one another.

OF BEERS, LEGOS AND WHATEVER TF YOU WANT!

Now, I'm not sure what Era ARMY people are nowadays, I was today years old when I found out that there are Yoongi Incident Era ARMY like damn fam! But if you were a 2022 Festa ARMY you probably watched a WEVERSE live or two. The most memorable, to me, are probably Jungkook basically staycationing, with drinks at all, and Jimin making things out of LEGO. 

JK is the type who has nothing to hide, but at the same time will not tell you things he doesn’t want to talk about. Period. He drank in his house in front of us, did laundry in his house in front of us, watched movies in his house, cooked in his house, had guests in his house, showed us said house itself, but you know one thing he’s never shown us? Jimin in his house, yet we know for a fact JM was in his house at least twice. And it definitely wasn’t for lack of trying! The hyung line, minus Joonie, also did several lives, all very informative, some playful and carefree and then there is Joonie. His were emotionally all over the place, and we couldn’t quite understand, at the time.

What I’m trying to say here is that in everything, from their lives, to their private time, to their projects, the boys seemed to have absolute freedom in the actions and choices they made: THEY ARE BTS FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! If they can’t, in SK’s entertainment who can? You see, hyb3/BH/g3ffen etc all messed up, a lot, for all of the members and that’s a fact. Some g3ffen really have no clue what the fvck they are doing, some others hyb3/BH have had a lot of other fish to fry mhj, k-media, and company, but I do believe that there never was any real malicious intent why shit where you eat??? I do think though that there was real disorganization. Why? because our boys are unprecedented.

The steps they take, the records they break, the achievements they make are all unprecedented in their environment. There is no blueprint as to how to handle a band like 875, because they are the blueprint. Hyb3 artists have much more freedom than any of the artists in the big 3 could ever wish for, or even comprehend, and this notion is completely lost with the likes of a certain girl group 🙄, like, the very fact that they can go around blabbering the way they are, is a result of the fact that they are part of a company whose environment was mostly moulded by our boys and hence allows that.

All of this is to say that if JK was drinking live, it isn’t because the managers told him to, it is because he wanted to. If JM was building lego live, it isn’t because the managers told him to, it is because he wanted to. If Jin started asking ARMY directly what they wanted him to do, it isn’t because the managers told him to, but it is because he wanted to. The most managers can currently ever wish to obtain from these boys is to please please please not spoil sh1t 🥹even that, some of our boys, struggle with, sometimes … okay, many a time 😬.

ARMY have certain expectations from the Tannies. Some Tannies do as well, and some others have no idea what to think and, once again, here is indeed where the problem lies. For example, Blue Bird ARMY: “Jin, I want you to be an actor” but Jin doesn’t want to, he’s said it so many times; so where do we go from there? You think doing PG-13 rated things is not good for JM’s image but he was comfortable only doing that at the time, because maybe he was going through he’s own private issues; so where do we go from there? And by all means I would like him to feel comfortable to express mature concept in ways other than dancing, but that would depend on him or us asking in a no-pressure, mature, manner.

I think there has to be a conversation between ARMY and the Tannies, kinda like what Jin suggested when he asked us what we wanted from us, and then it was up to him to decide, because, as the own person that he is, there are some things he doesn’t want to do acting in a k-drama and sometimes he was very happy to do participate in variety shows. It has always been about the two of us, Tannies & ARMY. It was always a love and respectful bond between the 7 of them and our fandom. But now it feels like solos and shippers are about to run a platform we never subscribed to. 

I know that Red is such a passionate color and Orange is playful as hell, Yellow is such a happy colour to me like it can do no harm! Green is so calming and pretty, Blue has depth and can be a bit scary at times, Indigo is dreamy and promising, and Violet, well violet is sexy AF. But aren’t Rainbows simply amazing? I think they are, and you can only have rainbows with all 7 colours.

Each color can exist on its own in nature, but rainbows need a space and light to be reflected on, the sky's the biggest area where you can reflect a rainbow, and just because we know the sky is not a limit for us, it doesn’t mean we are okay to ruin it. Let’s have a perfect sky ready for the boys when they come back. ARMY is the name they gave us to support and protect all 7 of them, let's find a way to unite each other again and find a new plane where we can both, Tannies & ARMY, meet once again 🙏🏾.

Always respectfully yours 💜,

Marengo.

PS - I apologies to all the other great asks as well, the cold weather makes me lazier than usual 🙇🏾‍♀️

[skania]

OnK Chapter 152

Soooo as someone who reads this for Akane and for Akane only, I have to say that I'm feeling cautiously optimistic about her role in the upcoming arc.

We're entering the final arc and she has yet to get her second volume cover. If she doesn't get Volume 15 (and I'm praying she doesn't), then that should mean that whatever happens in the upcoming volumes (the final volumes!) will involve her enough to warrant saving her second cover to this late in the game.

We're entering the final arc and she just narrated the lead-up to it.

We're entering the final arc and it's happening right alongside the Second Season, which is the season that will cover most of Akane's important chapters. So if Aka wants to deliver parallels, then there's a lot of potential for Akane to be involved.

...Watch Mengo and Aka stick her on the cover of Volume 15 and call it a day 🤡 But for now, I'll keep praying that we get a Goro/Aqua cover so that Akane is free to be used in better volumes.

I don't have much to say about the chapter this time around. I think we all knew that Aka was getting ready to end the manga, so I for one was happy to see that we're entering the final arc. The sooner we're freed, the better!

It's hard to gauge how long this arc will be, but I'd bet on ~30 chapters plus an Epilogue Arc. Coincidentally, there are exactly 28 weeks left until Christmas. In the manga, they are in November right now and Kana's Graduation (the most important moment in the manga, apparently) will take place on Christmas. So I can totally see Aka wanting his fictional Christmas to happen during, well, Christmas.

If he does it, then we could be getting 3 more volumes worth of content plus 1 volume for the Epilogue. Maybe.

Or maybe he will try to rush it and end it even sooner so that whoever gets hurt gets hurt when the anime adapts Chapters 64 - 65. That would be so rushed even for his standards that it would be wild, but anything is possible when it comes to bad writing lmao

Leaving that aside, look at my girl.

I love her. I love her so much. She has got quite a few reasons to be making this face, IMO.

Ruby was able to find a peaceful way to have her revenge and is thus ready to start healing, and the answer she found is healing those around her, too. Like Gotanda and Kaburagi.

Ai's heart was presumably portrayed in an accurate fashion, which is sure to pull at her hearstrings.

And considering that Aqua was the one who edited the movie, I think it says something about his current disposition that he respected Ruby's take and left the movie as it is, so that may be giving Akane another reason to smile.

Speaking about Gotanda and Kaburagi, I feel like their conversation foreshadows a lot of what this final arc will be dealing with.

Making amends, overcoming regrets and moving towards the future...

... people lying to themselves and "bottling themselves up"...

yet still holding out onto hope, deep down, of being able to fulfill the dreams that they have been denying themselves of all along.

This comment in particularly reminded me so much of Aqua lol

Which takes me to: Aka's writing is so clumsy that his star changing colors every other chapter comes across as flip-flopping 😂

Back when his stars briefly became white only to turn black again, it served a purpose. It showed that while Ruby's words pacified the "Goro" side of him, he hadn't fully healed yet. If Aqua having his white star again is meant to signify that Kana's words managed to pacify the "Aqua" side of him, then... why in the world didn't we see his eyes go white last chapter? 🤡 If Kana is the reason why Aqua seems to have hopes for the future now, why not show it?

For my own sanity, I have to believe something happened in the time-skip. Maybe editing the movie was actually cathartic or something, who knows. I'm not even going to theorize anything about this, because the writing is giving me whiplash lmao so I'm just going to take a moment to point out that while Mengo took the time to give Aqua the haircut he is supposed to have here as per the prologue, she left out the piercing.

And I find that kind of funny, honestly, that this is where Aka seemingly draws the line. With all the stuff that Aka off-panels, Aqua getting a random piercing off-panel wouldn't have been shocking at all 😂

Another thing I found funny:

How many times does Aka need to repeat the same thing? Does he think our attention span is that short? 😭 Not to mention these words feel empty right now because he just went on a data with Kana with zero issue. Apparently, for Aka keeping his distance is only a thing if it involves making sure Aqua interacts with Akane as little as possible lmao

Oh, right!

How could I forget the big twist!

Wake me up when Kamiki interviews Akane 😂

[dearasteria]

Major Gale romance SPOILERS below, so please DO NOT read and watch if you don't want to get spoiled.

I was REALLY worried about how romance with Gale would go, especially after talking to him right after he gets Karsas' book. My Tav wanted to believe and trust him, but something didn't feel right. At the end of Act II, when Tav tries to convince him not blow himself up for his ex's forgivness/to save Faerûn, it can be summed up with that one gif from Grey's Anatomy: "So pick me. Choose me. Love me" 🤡. Honestly, she asks not only to choose her, but also not to kill her and the rest of the team. Gale is so easily swayed and tells Tav that he loves her, even more than Mystra. Tav should be happy, right? But I'm like WAIT A DAMN MINUTE, it was faaar too easy, I mean, no protests from him, I didn't even have to use persuasion to convince him. At that point, after the trauma that Bioware had caused us with Anders and Solas, I'm getting paranoid. Gale doesn't love Tav, he's definitely hiding something. But I'm thinking to myself, "Okay, calm down, he just doesn't want to die, super understable. Maybe he really loves her and he needed to hear it? He needed reassurance that he has something to live for? Yes, it must be it". But then I go to the quest journal and see this:

DAMMIT GALE, you snake 🐍 My poor baby Tav (especially since the romance scene in Waterdeep was so warm and tender). She's so in love in him. Now I'm convinced that he will definetly betrey us, stubs us right in the heart.

At the beginning of Act III, he becomes obsessed with a book called The Annals of Karsus that may help him learn more about the crown. He becomes obsessed with how powerful he can become. When Tav gives him the book and says, "We already know the crown's dangerougs. Wouldn't that make things worse?" he replies:

"Worse? It could be the best thing that ever happened to me. To us."

After all this, Gale tries to convince Tav to help him reconstruct the crown. We have this beautiful scene on the boat and when I tell you my jaw dropped. HE CHOOSES TAV, listens to her concerns and simply chooses her.

The way he says it, the way he corrects himself… damn. For Tav, it's like a bucket of cold water. And I'm like, "Here we go again" 🤡

Furthermore, when we visit the Stormshore Tabernacle in Baldur's Gate and interact with Mystra's statue, he seems to feel so uncomfortable, he doesn't want to be there. Tav starts to think he's definitely hiding something. She would like to hear Mystra's version of what happened between her and Gale (I hope we can talk to her at some point in the game, it would be very interesting).

My Tav, however, disagreed, and Gale replies, "I hope you're right. I truly do. Godly power, perhaps I can live without, but you? You're everything". Has the curse of dating mages that leave players heartbroken been broken?

But I have to admit, when he said: "With you, I forget my goddess. I love you. Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you want what I want. Please" - OH GODS 😳. I was so close to agreeing to this madness. The VA did an amazing job (side note: so many talented VAs in this game, it's mind blowing), the writing is amazing, the music is incredible, I was blown away, really.

Next day, after the boat scene, he's so adorable and full of love for Tav. Then I remembered his gratest flaw (for me it's more like his biggest fear) from the scene with Zethino in the circus: "He thinks he, and the world, might be better off if he were dead". At the time I thought he was lying, manipulating Zethino and his answers. My distrust of mages in games… Yes, I have a problem 😅

I haven't finished the game, but I have high hopes for a happy ending. No spoilers please, thanks :)

What a rollecoster of emotions, I love it, I love Gale. It felt like I was playing Dragon Age: Origins for the first time, way back when I was a teenager. It's really insane how this game makes me feel, how much I care about its characters and story.

EDIT: Okay, so we have an audience with Mystra, I mean only Gale, but we see the whole conversation between them. My only complain is that Gale doesn't mention Tav when Mystra asks him why he defied her 💔 The outcomes are different depending on whether you do it before or after the boat scene. Personally, I think doing the boat scene before meeting Mystra is much better. I get the impression that Gale is abandoning the plan to reconstruct the crown solely for Tav and his love for her. And the drama 👌🏻 it gives me life.

[jamesunderwater]

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

🍷 Do you drink and write?

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

💖 What made you start writing?

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

📈 How many fics do you have?

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

💞 Who's your comfort character?

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

Lmao, to whoever sent me the ENTIRE list, it made me laugh out loud. I was determined to finish it for you no matter how long it took, so I hope you enjoy lol. Never had this done to me before, it’s kind of unhinged — but I love it.

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

Answered here.

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Ohhh this is such a fantastic question. I think anything hurt/comfort really gets to me, and I write it quite a bit.

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Oh SO many, lmao, but the end of You Always Come First really made me laugh, and I think people are sleeping on the fic because the beginning seems…strange. But I promise you should read to the end ;)  

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

I think the closest I’ve come to doing that was at the end of Chapter 9 of Dead To Me, because I cut it in the middle of a tense scene. But I just write such emotionally fraught stuff, there’s not usually moments to “play” with my readers like that. Maybe in the future when I’m (hopefully) writing a less heavy multi-chap. Or if I get around to finishing Just This Once….now that fic I could definitely fuck with the readers in, lol.

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

Um, I’m one of those whores who’s usually like “beta pfft nah who has time for that” and just posts the thing. But I have asked for beta help here and there from folks like @annabtg, @eastwindmlk, and @charmsandtealeaves, and I know having a beta improves my work. So I want to start doing it consistently for pieces that are more important to me.

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

Found family is definitely a common theme. I have written several fics directly about or with themes of loss and mourning. Imagery… I dunno, I do focus a lot on what the characters are doing with their body/face. And for scenes – I think I enjoy writing conflicts, lol, and definitely banter, which I think is sort of in the same camp.

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Lmao, it simply has to be Just This Once. I really should finish that one.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

Answered here.

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

I generally love them. I read a lot of Prongsfoot first kiss fics. But thinking about it now, I don’t read a ton of Jily ones, probably just because I don’t stumble upon them as often. But I usually really enjoy them when I do. 

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Ohhh boy, do I! My Spotify Wrapped can usually tell you what fics/chapters I was working on that year cause I just listen to the same songs on repeat while I’m writing. I’ve been playing Gravity by Sara Bareilles a lot as I’ve been working on Chapt 14 of Dead To Me (yes, that’s a bit of a hint ;) )

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

I pretty much just use Google Docs, and I’ll also write random thoughts/short scenes and stuff in my Notes app, and sometimes in a specific notebook I have for fic stuff.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

Oh yeah, several! One of them was a sort of lovers to enemies to lovers thing where I had Jily go on a first date, which went terribly wrong. So then they spend most of the fic pranking each other and being generally terrible to one another, until Sirius intervenes with one big prank to get them together. But it turns out I suck at enemies to lovers, lmao.

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

Yes, loads of people! I don’t keep it a secret that I write fanfic/do fandom things, but I do keep the actual fanfics/my online life to myself.

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

Ohhh man, that’s so tough! My mind immediately jumped to Sweet Seventeen, but I do think that Bring Your Kid To Work Day(s never end when your godfather is Sirius Black) is a very close second — it just has some sad aspects, where Sweet Seventeen is pUUUUUre fluff.

🍷 Do you drink and write?

Nooo, nor do I take edibles and write. I don’t think I’m capable of it, lol.

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?

Lol, I write quite a lot of spicy stuff, though I never meant to be a smut writer xD My most popular smutfic, by far, is a wolfstar fic called Show and Tell. My most popular Jily smutfic is Suffocate Me (great one, good choice everyone ;) ) and my most popular Prongsfoot smutfic is “you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do that” (which is so cool, because it’s trans Sirius!)

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

I’m probably most productive mid-morning. If I haven’t depleted all my mental energy though I can also go pretty hard at night. ;)

💖 What made you start writing?

I think I was just one of those people who was always going to be a writer. I started writing at like 8 years old and it never occurred to me to stop.

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

Obviously I love comments, especially ones that show the reader really engaged with a fic in an emotional/intellectual way! I have historically been horrible at replying to them, but I am working on getting better about that. And feedback is great — if I asked for it from my beta reader (: 

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

Eh, never say never, but I highly doubt I will ever write A/B/O fanfic. Does that count as a trope? I dunno, lol.

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

For sure! Especially for smut. I think it’d be a lot of fun. I’ve thought about it/intended to a few times but never got it up and going. 

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

Answered here.

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

Dead To Me <3

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

I do! I think so far I’ve only published fics for Christmas/winter holiday but I have some old WIPs for Halloween too. I think my favorite has to be In Your Eyes There Are Oceans, my prongsfoot first time fic. It’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written.

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

I don’t…think so? But I really can’t remember. Someone call me out if I’m totally wrong, lol. If anyone has, I bet it’s @charmsandtealeaves.

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

I’ve never had any fanart made for one of my fics, but I will LOSE MY SHIT if anyone ever does (in a very positive way) <3

📈 How many fics do you have?

Answered here.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

If it’s a multi-chap fic I’m usually doing some sort of outline. With DTM I go hard on outlining each individual chapter, and have had a general outline of the overall fic/chapters since pretty much chapter 2. If it’s a oneshot, usually not. I write those so quickly that I’m not liable to forget what I am thinking of doing.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Right now I am only actively working on DTM, so that’s the only WIP that’s actually started and “up and coming.” But I am going to be doing two collabs with @charmsandtealeaves and @eastwindmlk in the near future, which I’m pretty excited about. Not sure if Charms wants to keep ours more on the down-low or anything but I can say that one with East is Professors!Prongsfoot, a la Tolkien/Lewis. 😁

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

Write what you like! And don’t worry about if it’s been “done before.” Write the things you want to read and are inspired by, and see where it takes you. Also, imo, using prompts to write quick drabbles/microfics is a great way to practice or get yourself in the writing headspace.

💞 Who's your comfort character?

Sirius Black <3

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

Well since anon didn’t pick someone, I guess I’ll pick for myself ;) I dunno if it’s necessarily my favorite, but I do love my headcanon that James is great at Herbology because his mum keeps an extensive garden.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

UGH how could you make me choose???? …okay, I think because I love Lily and Sirius so much, my favorite character to write is James, specifically when he is truly lovesick over one of them. 😇

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

Eh, I dunno. I’m passing on this one.

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

If I really like it. If I was excited to write it and actually finished it.

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?

Yeah, that’d be very cool. I am no longer like angling for that but I would love if it happened lol.

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

Oh it totally depends. A oneshot, usually like 5 hours. A chapter…well if we’re talking DTM, god – countless hours. Easily over 20 hours, because I frequently write multiple versions before landing on the one that feels right.

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

Crackfics are so hard to get right!

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

“i don’t even know where you end and i begin”

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

Like I said about feedback, if I asked for someone to critique my work then yeah, I’m all for it. If someone just decides to offer criticism in the comments or something? Bugger off.

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

Hm, I don’t think so? I think my tag for all my works is #mywriting* or something like that? 

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

Um, yes, of course! I would absolutely love to answer any questions people have about any of my fics, or just generally hear more of their thoughts if they wanted to send them.

[vesperpharsalius]

hey, i'm new to here so i dont know if someone asked you to same question so, sorry to bother. may i ask if you countinuing your fic ice and fire? as i say i'm kinda new and i dont know your update schedule or smth. have a good day!!😚

Well... welcome to my corner of the hellsite! Happy to have you. Please feel free to send me messages and asks; my inbox is always open (although it’s bursting at the moment and I tend to reply with about as much speed as you’d expect if we were communicating by preindustrial transatlantic letter) and I don’t mind repeating myself in the slightest. An admirer could never bother me.

😘

So, there really is no underestimating or underselling how passionate I am about Ice and Fire and Alis Aquilae, generally, which is the collective name for my planned Bellonaverse. Words, quite simply, fail me whenever I try to convey the depth of my obsession.

Let me just say this: if, for whatever reason, this project is abandoned, it will be for one reason and one reason only: I am dead. Mourn me. Remember me fondly. Because nothing but death itself could keep me from finishing it—and, indeed, it may very kill me. I am currently committing acts of hubris in this endeavor from which I may never recover. But goddamn it, kitten—we are finding this Northwest Passage and exploring Darrow’s southwest passage, too.

The good news is that the bulk of I&F is already rough–drafted. When I first started posting, about fifteen months ago, I thought it was closer to being done and that I’d only need to do some final touches on each chapter before I published it, and… yeah. No.

🤡

Extensive rewriting and revising and polishing has delayed progress significantly; I never thought it’d take more than a few months to finish this, tbh, and it’ll be two years, come July. And, hell, I’m not even halfway through; fourteen—out of 150? To say nothing of the supplementary fics that I’ve planned for AA, written from the perspective of other characters that will complement the main trilogy; these will be about 50k apiece. 

Which is not exactly… inspiring.

😬

I also completely underestimated how distracting feedback would be. It’s difficult—almost impossible, really—for me to focus on I&F itself when I have so many wonderful comments and messages and asks that I could be answering instead, because I enjoy discussing my fics far more than I enjoy writing them, if I’m honest.

It’s the instant gratification of it all. And, y’know—the praise kink. It’s kinking. 

(If you’ve sent me an ask or a message or left a comment on I&F that I’ve yet to answer, please know that I cherish each and every one and fully intend to respond. Don’t worry about being overlooked or forgotten. But you’ll have to be very patient with me, unfortunately, because I am swamped.)

That said, I’ve decided to change the paradigm a bit. What I’m going to be doing hereafter is batches of twenty–five; so, I’ll write twenty–five chapters, release one (or maybe two) a week, go on hiatus while I write the next twenty–five chapters, and so on. The first batch will be much smaller, only eleven, as I’ve already posted fourteen. 

The hiatuses only apply to the trilogy, though; I’ll throw y’all a different bone to chew on while you’re waiting. The first one will be the final chapters of MTB; after that, though… we’ll start digging into AA’s supplementary fics that I promised and some independent Cassius–centric stuff, too.

Hopefully, this will increase my productivity to a more satisfactory rate and give y’all some consistency in your lives. Really, it’s cruel what I’ve done: all this suspense, these empty promises of updates and responses and sex so torrid that a single read will permanently alter your brain chemistry or damn you straight to superhell.

They should try me at the Hague.

At my current pace, I should be able to wrap up I&F by the end of 2025 and get started on the sequel, which is still in the conceptual phase right now. At the very least, though, this series will be ongoing for the next three years.

So. Here’s hoping y’all don’t get too sick of me. 

You can expect Chs. 15–25 of I&F to start getting posted in late June. I’m gonna chain myself to it. I may or may not release Ch. 15 on its own, as it’s 95% done; right now, I’m inclined to save it for the group. 

But... you never know. I have been known to lie.

Thank you for the ask, for your patience, and for being such a good sport as I edge you. What can I say?

In typical Cassius fashion, he’s taking his damn time.

Stay tuned. 

Update, 3/9 : I lied. Ch. 15 is live.

Update, 6/27: Ch. 16 is live. Unfortunately, progression has not gone as swimmingly as I’d hoped and weekly updates are… not happening. Biweekly updates every Friday morning (EST) are what I’m currently aiming for. At the moment, I&F is likely to stretch deep into 2026.

Update, 7/11: Ch. 17 is live. Ch. 18 can be expected on 7/25.