#going by my past history with this kind of project not long

[gamesception]

Lets read something

You know, as much as I really love the Utena show and movie, I've never read the manga? That's something I could do, I suppose. Actually, I don't know much about the production of Utena at all, let's do 5 minutes of research...

OK, so Utena is Kunihiko Ikuhara's (the anime director's) baby, and the manga was created at around the same time by Shojo artist Chiho Saito. Only Ikuhara was a bit of a pain to work with (or to be more forgiving was super busy with the anime & new studio he created for it), so Saito never got a full summary or answers when she asked questions? So basically we're looking at a different story from a different creator only loosely based on some shared concepts and character designs. Also a lot more focus on Utena and Touga, which isn't a great sign but then again it kind of worked for the movie so I'm not going to dismiss it out of hand.

Anyway, expectations in check, let's jump in.

The introduction with the obnoxious teacher bothering Utena about her uniform and Utena countering that 'the rules don't say a dog can't play basketball' is repeated pretty closely. Makes sense that, however little Saito was given to work with, she'd at least have the opening scene of the opening episode to reference. Though here her uniform shirt is pink with black piping instead of the other way around?

I'm sorry, 'Rose' with black piping.

But it's not just the color, the whole scene immediately veers way off the road from the anime.

Utena has an aunt in the manga? Like a legit adult guardian? I don't think the anime brings up guardians at all except to say that her parents died when she was young. Not bringing in guardians at all is part of how the anime builds the sort of removed otherworldly atmosphere of the school, like it's an isolated fairy world that the students are trapped in and need to escape, which is kind of core to the themes.

Themes which, I'm given to understand, Saito was not privy to in advance when writing this adaptation, so yeah, here we go, very different story right out of the gate.

Also she has some guy friend? Who is this? This isn't Wakaba.

This is a strong page here, does a good job of establishing the dead parents, the relationship with this new aunt character, Utena's compassion and strength of character even from the time of her parents' death, but also the emotional toll and self sacrifice inherent to the princely role she's adopted - it's brave and sad but not even remotely healthy or fair for a child to never cry in front of the adults who are supposed to be caring for them.

So Utena's prince has been sending her letters every year, as opposed to the anime where she just got the ring. Also he saved her from drowning - something the movie would partially borrow? - rather than just from being sad after her parents died?

Although that does mean we probably won't get the show's eventual reveal that what the prince showed young Utena to break her out of her sorrow was Anthy locked away and suffering herself, which recontextualized Utena's backstory and princely affect as having been about saving Anthy the whole time.

[racefortheironthrone]

Hi- er, this is my first-ever writer's strike, how does one not cross a picket line in this context? I know how not to do it with things like Amazon and IRL strikes, but how does it apply to media/streaming?

Hi, this is a great question, because it allows me to write about the difference between honoring a picket line and a boycott. (This is reminding me of the labor history podcast project that's lain fallow in my drafts folder for some time now...) In its simplest formulation, the difference between a picket line and a boycott is that a picket line targets an employer at the point of production (which involves us as workers), whereas a boycott targets an employer at the point of consumption (which involves us as consumers).

So in the case of the WGA strike, this means that at any company that is being struck by the WGA - I've seen Netflix, Amazon, Apple, Disney, Warner Brothers Discovery, NBC, Paramount, and Sony mentioned, but there may be more (check the WGA website and social media for a comprehensive list) - you do not cross a picket line, whether physical or virtual. This means you do not take a meeting with them, even if its a pre-existing project, you do not take phone calls or texts or emails or Slacks from their executives, you do not pitch them on a spec script you've written, and most of all you do not answer any job application.

Because if this strike is like any strike since the dawn of time, you will see the employers put out ads for short-term contracts that will be very lucrative, generally above union scale - because what they're paying for in addition to your labor is you breaking the picket line and damaging the strike - to anyone willing to scab against their fellow workers. GIven that one of the main issues of the WGA are the proliferation of short-term "mini rooms" whereby employers are hiring teams of writers to work overtime for a very short period, to the point where they can only really do the basics (a series outline, some "broken stories," and some scripts) and then have the showrunner redo everything on their lonesome, while not paying writers long-term pay and benefits, I would imagine we're going to see a lot of scab contracts being offered for these mini rooms.

But for most of us, unless we're actively working as writers in Hollywood, most of that isn't going to be particularly relevant to our day-to-day working lives. If you're not a professional or aspiring Hollywood writer, the important thing to remember honoring the picket line doesn't mean the same thing as a boycott. WGA West hasn't called on anyone to stop going to the movies or watching tv/streaming or to cancel their streaming subscriptions or anything like that. If and when that happens, WGA will go to some lengths to publicize that ask - and you should absolutely honor it if you can - so there will be little in the way of ambiguity as to what's going on.

That being said, one of the things that has happened in the past in other strikes is that well-intentioned people get it into their heads to essentially declare wildcat (i.e, unofficial and unsanctioned) boycotts. This kind of stuff comes from a good place, someone wanting to do more to support the cause and wanting to avoid morally contaminating themselves by associating with a struck company, but it can have negative effects on the workers and their unions. Wildcat boycotts can harm workers by reducing back-end pay and benefits they get from shows if that stuff is tied to the show's performance, and wildcat boycotts can hurt unions by damaging negotiations with employers that may or may not be going on.

The important thing to remember with all of this is that the strike is about them, not us. Part of being a good ally is remembering to let the workers' voices be heard first and prioritizing being a good listener and following their lead, rather than prioritizing our feelings.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Alastor watching the princess and the frog by Disney ? It’s in lousiana in the 1920s so it would be perfect for him

absolutelyyyyyyy the princess and the frog is one of my fav disney movies from characters to soundtrack, so this one’s a bit longer. also kind of a part two but also not exactly

history ramble below

also i did some light research on new orleans history because if im gonna write alastor i should know. doggy i love me some history and this history is rich, depressing at times but also rich and meanful to know so i thought id share a little. from talking about the free the peoples movement, to the way women got their rights to their hair back that they didn’t have when enslaved only to have a law banning natural hair and hair wraps and so they decorated the wraps and used coloured fabrics effectively rendering the law useless, to the wealthiest black man of the 1870s for being a prospering business owner, the origins of how voodoo and other spiritual practices mingled perfectly with the pre established voodoo and how voodoo was predominantly black women who were highly respected, the first black man to be govoner in the united states in only 1871, a black woman named Rose Nicaud who opened the first coffee stand in 1800 and made enough to escape being ensalved. then there’s lighter topics like some of the jazz history and how it made various black stars like louie armstrong, and also how the language mingled to make the cajun french that’s sadly dying out, to the architecture that flourished through the varying clashes in culture between african, european, native and haitian peoples. if it’s not too upsetting to read i definitely suggest this page to have an insight on some of the quick history on new orleans, i enjoyed learning about the strength that many had during this time.

United teachers of new orleans < page i was reading

Warnings: jealous Al teehee, reader crushes on naveen and dr facilier (don’t mind me just projecting), cuddling, swearing, alastor doesn’t really know emotions good, fluffy banter, just some ushy gushy mushy tushy

Word count: 2k

The movie Bambi didn't even finish playing before the patrons started to filter out of the room heading to bed. First to go was Vaggie carrying a sleeping Charlie, Sir pentious promptly following along telling his fussy egg boys it was long past their bed time. Then it was Niftys turn to disappear, however she never said a goodnight only sped off leaving behind her vacant swishing rocking chair.

Then once Angel and Husk left, you had decided to just call it quits on Bambi, Alastor hadn't moved much or objected to you turning off the movie, only watching the projector as you scrolled through the app.

You stopped on the princess and the frog, grinning toward Alastor he sighed, getting a glimpse of your mischief from the corner of his eye. "Now what's this about darling?" Turning your body towards his fully facing him, you waited for his gaze to finally meet yours, and reluctantly it did. "Allow me to introduce you to one of, if not, thee best disney movies of all time; the princess and the frog," Alastor's finger rose as he took a breath to speak, but before he could say a word you interrupted him.

"Yes I know princess yuck, whatever Al. It takes place in New Orleans, its main focus is actually in the poorer area with the shotgun houses, and throughout the movie Tiana, the princess, travels through the bayou, oh! With Naveen one of the hottest princes, also it takes place in the twenties, oh!-" Before you could continue Alastor gently gripped your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily as he did so."What did you just?"

"Takes place in the nineteen twenties?" You asked, voice muffled from Alastors grip on your cheeks. "Before that dear." Your eyebrows raised looking at Alastor not trying to hide your confusion. "Naveen? One of the hottest princes?" Alastor hummed, booping your nose. "Yes dear, that."

"Yeah. duh dude he's one of the few princes that deserve the princess, he changes for Tiana, he's charismatic, funny, but nevermind that back to what i was saying. There's varying New Orleans culture littered through that might make you feel closer to home, all the music is jazz obviously." Opening your mouth readying to rant on about the Voodoo man that you adored, Alastor hushed you with his finger up to your lips.

"My sweet dear, I will watch this silly picture show so long as you stop rambling about it." Alastor wasn't truly done with hearing your rambling, he was enjoying hearing that you were such a fan of something that centred so close to home when it came to him however if he was going to watch it he rather not have it spoiled.

Giddily you clasped your hands together and hit play, your love for the film and excitement to see Alastors reaction may have made you slightly over enthusiastic just a bit. As the movie began you curled your feet up onto the couch, inching yourself closer to Alastor looking up to his face and back to the movie.

When Naveen got introduced on screen you accidentally gripped Alastors arm tightly shaking him. "My mannn~" You squealed happily, letting go of Alastor once you heard the unmistakable rattle come from him, a growl sounding out of his chest. You didn't pay much attention to him though, instead turning back to the projector and backing off Al. However Alastor wasn't too frustrated with the fact you touched him, but because you were being so ushy gushy over some fake man.

He was easily the same if not better than Naveen. Alastor was charismatic, charming, he could sing, play instruments, he didn't quite understand why you were so particularly interested in this Naveen. Hell, even Alastor had a similar outfit back when he was alive, he could've been Naveen when he was alive.

You didn’t notice Alastor having a mini tantrum in his own world, you were too engrossed in the movie. Suddenly you’ve gripped him again, pointing at the screen. "The shadow man, Al this is your kin!" You egged laughing maniacally at your own words.

Alastor’s face however brightened at the display of the voodoo man. "One of my fav songs." You whispered as Dr. Facilier began singing on screen. Cocking his head to the side Alastor looked down to you bouncing along to the song. "This fellow sounds similar to Husk." Alastor mentioned, watching intently at the shadows that crawled around Dr. Faciliers room, much like Alastors own shadows. "Yeah it really does sound like Husk. Strange, anyways, Dr. Voodoos hot too." Alastors static buzzed around the room and you had to hold back a giggle at the frustrated look on his face, despite the smile it was obvious he wasn't too happy.

"What's up Al, not liking the movie?" Static crackled around the two of you as you questioned him a little slyly as you could tell he wasn’t hating the movie. “No dear, it’s pleasant in comparison to some things i’ve grit myself through, however,” He paused watching you ogle at both the Dr and Naveen. “I can’t understand what’s so great about this Naveen you like. He’s a fool,” You scoffed at Alastors distaste for Naveen, you didn’t mean to make him feel frustrated at your adoration for the characters but it was endearing to see.

“What’s not to like about the man?” You state confidently but Alastor simply shrugged while humming indifferently. A beat of silence passed, the ending of the song playing out of the projector. “It’s just that,” Alastor started up again after a moment of silence, turning his body to face you hands folded in his lap politely. “You clearly have the odd reaction towards these gentlemen and I can't see why,” To give him credit he did look genuinely confused, and just as you were going to speak up he interrupted.

“And please do not say it’s because he is funny, charismatic, musically talented or sweet because I happen to hold all those same qualities!” He finished, hands thrown in the air like he said something especially spectacular. You had a soft smile present on your face watching him work through the sentence theatrically. “Well, Al you are, maybe i think the same about you?” Record scratch.

You cackled at his frozen state, patting his arm gently, cooing that you were only kidding, you turned back to the TV and the two of you decided to leave it at that.

Later on in the movie, when Tiana and Naveen are with the alligator going down the bayou singing about being human, you stared over at Alastor, your heart thumping at the sight of him. His arms were resting along the back of the couch, legs splayed out comfortably, posture sunken in, and his eyes lidded with a closed calm smile. His ear twitched and soon his eyes moved from the movie to you, quirking a questionable eyebrow at you.

Feeling slightly embarrassed for eyeing him up you tried to play it off by asking him a question. “Is there bayous in New Orleans, is that real?” You ask kinda dumbly, of course they were, you scolded yourself. Alastor didn’t seem to mind though he smiled widely, a chuckle reverberating out of him. “Why yes dear! Of course, I personally never lived close to the bayou, but it surrounds New Orleans, and I have been. It’s quite beautiful during a sunset but there’s tons of alligators.”

You leaned forward interested, but it seemed he’d stopped to refocus on the screen which you wouldn’t complain about. You not so discreetly leaned into his torso, arm still on the back of the sofa behind you, and thankfully he didn’t move when you leaned your body into him, instantly decompressing into his side.

They got to the scene where the gang is on the boat going through the bayou, the crocodile fitting in and playing jazz, when you turned to look up at Alastor seeing him already looking down at you. “What’s up?” You asked, watching as he scanned your face. “Well dear you’re just reminding me of home tonight, it would’ve been interesting to be able to show you where I lived, where I worked. Y’know when i did radio, most people didn’t know what I looked like so it came as quite a shock to some that I wasn’t what they imagined. Some were cruel, but my mother always taught me to be respectable if not respectful, so I managed to keep my grace.”

You giggle at his explanation watching him move his hand in all different directions, the radio host coming into play just at the mention of his job. “I’m flattered you would’ve wanted to show me your home n stuff, i wish it were possible.”

On the projector in front of you two, was the scene between Naveen and Tiana’s first date, where Naveen was going to propose. “They always get married so fast in these movies, you spend three days as a frog and suddenly it’s eternity!” You exclaimed humorously, Alastor scoffed an array of instrumental sounds electronically sounding out from him. “My dear it was common back in the day to get married quick, none of this lollygagging.”

You rolled your eyes blowing out air. “Would you get married to someone you knew for three days?” Alastor hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in exaggerated thought. “If it were you, perhaps, otherwise i’d attempt to lengthen it just a bit.” He reviled in the sight of you bashfully turning your head away, shy at his broad flirt. “You’d marry me, after only three days?” You questioned in disbelief, he hummed wrapping the arm he once had behind you, around you pulling you into him.

“Well I found you to be quite a treat the first day i met you, and decided i wanted to be around you for many days on. Is that not marriage worthy?” This confession shocked you slightly. You never expected him to say that he preemptively planned your blooming friendship nevermind that he equated that to being worth marriage. The movie played on in the background as you both watched each other’s faces.

“To me, dear,” Alastor started a smug smile stretching across his cheeks replacing the calm smile that stayed for so long. “It seems like you may unconsciously feel something towards me too.” Jaw dropping you stared at him confused. “What?” You scoff but Alastor only looked smugger.

“Come now, New Orleans centred movie? Jazz, cooking, even that dumbo man Naveen speaks french loves jazz music and dancing, oh and of course the ever so obvious voodoo, it’s almost like this movie is me, haha.” He laughed manically, eyes crossing as his body shook. It was quite the egotistical assumption on his part, but he wasn’t wrong.

You put it on for him but it seems for you too, you paid more attention to him half the movie, and you’ve been more interested in knowing real life facts about his home during his time then what story the movie was trying to tell. Maybe he was right, but even so what did him pointing it out accomplish? “Well that’s why i wanted to show you it, it’s got many aspects you’re involved with in it.”

You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for such a good save, however Alastor was keen and knew you long enough to catch your lies. “Sure dear, sure.” Al gave you a condescending pat on the head and you speedily swatted at him. The movie played on you once more captivated by Alastor’s reactions more than the movie itself, you’ve already watched it enough to know.

Tucked under Alastor’s arm, warm and comfy, you barely caught the sound of Alastor huffing out chuckles, gazing up towards the projection you playfully hit him. “Don’t laugh at his death!” That only made Alastor properly laugh, dropping his head back, neck cracking grossly. “My dear it was a lightning bug in love with a star! He got stepped on that was hilarious!”

Sounds of prerecorded laughter sounded out with his natural laugh, you didn’t actually care that he found it funny, only pretended too as you gave him a disapproving glare. As the movie closed in you felt a weird gloom wash over you, it was nice being alone with him by his side while you two relaxed. You didn’t want it ending, but alas Tiana and Naveen kissed turning them human, with the reveal that with marrying Naveen, she became a princess effectively breaking the curse, and the movie started with the end song.

“Well dear I did enjoy that, the voodoo was pretty boringly unrealistic, but it’s for children. I did enjoy the mentioning of foods, very common dishes even I enjoy, like gumbo. But alas it was still a pathetic little movie about mortal love.” Standing to his feet when he finished speaking, Alastor dusted himself off and snapped his fingers making all around you revert to what it was before movie night.

“Do you not want to be in love?” You ask softly partly hoping he didn’t hear you as by the time you stood from your spot, you regret saying it. “Well I certainly haven’t looked. Why disappointed?” Alastor bent himself backwards to look at you since you stood behind him readying to exit. Looking down into his eyes you felt hazy, maybe a little drunk on desire as you gently caressed his cheek. “Maybe I am,”

“Darling.” Alastor said sternly as he cracked himself upward, he bent down facing you this time and before he could talk you once again interrupted. “Can’t blame me can you?” Alastor seemed momentarily taken aback, gazing around lazily trying to collect his thoughts. “My dear, I'm uncertain with emotions like this as well as expressing them, love is foolish, however… if you were to tell me ‘i love you’ i would say it back.”

It confused you, what Alastor said, you couldn’t tell if he was mocking you and telling you he was going to lie about his emotions to spare you, or if he was egging you on attempting to get you to tell him your true feelings. Regardless you swallowed down any worries for the future instead focusing only on the now, and looked deeply into the soft red glow of his eyes.

“I love you Al,” With a cheeky smile you watched him stutter, the visible shock was clear, and you wondered if he actually expected you to say that. Just as you began to worry you fucked up, he bent down to your height. “I love you too my dear,” And with that he gave you the chastised kiss on the lips, before standing to his full height materialising his microphone. “Got to go dear! Duty calls!” And with that he seemingly disappeared into the shadows, leaving you to waddle tiredly to your room. Little did you know that Alastor whisked himself away to have a minor panic attack in the safety of his radio tower, not believing himself and his broad actions, nor could he believe the pounding in his chest and flutter in his heart.

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.9k words

warnings: explicit language, a bit of angst, (nothing else really?)

summary: game night at the apartment proves that you and steve are a surprisingly good team

CHAPTER FOUR | ❝𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅❞

Fall Semester 2015

Your first thought was that maybe you heard him wrong. 

But, it was pretty hard to hear the sentence, “I have a crush on a girl in my Statistics class” wrong. 

You wondered how you looked right then. You felt surprised— more so absolutely stunned— but you hoped that Eddie couldn’t see that, and you were quickly turning your head away from him to make sure of it. You pretended that you suddenly needed to grab something from your bag that sat next to you on the bench you two were sitting on, which was right outside the building that you needed to be in in ten minutes for your last class of the day. 

You pulled out your water and took a long, tentative sip from the bottle as you simply nodded at Eddie’s statement. 

Your mind was blank, but you knew that you needed to say something in response to his happily spoken words. All you could think right then was that this was inevitable. Of course, he’d end up liking someone, and of course, it would happen sooner rather than later.  

Selfishly, you had hoped it would be you. Now you just felt pretty stupid. 

“That’s cool,” You finally said as you placed your water bottle in your lap. “What’s her name?”

“Chrissy,” Eddie answered. “At first, it just felt like a dumb crush because we only sat next to each other on the first day of class and I borrowed a pen from her, and that was the only time we talked. But we were grouped together on this project and we got to know each other a lot over the past couple of weeks.” 

He was smiling the entire time he talked and he looked so damn happy; the kind of happy that if the circumstances were the tiniest bit different, you would’ve felt just as happy for him too. 

You wondered if this was how he had looked for the last few weeks, and if you somehow completely missed it; completely missed any and all of the signs of him slowly falling for someone right before your eyes. 

You replayed the past few weeks in your mind to see if you had somehow missed the obvious, but nothing seemed like it had been too different from the normal that you and Eddie had developed since you became friends. Most of your nights were still spent across the hall in his dorm room whenever your roommate was being annoying, and most of your nights still consisted of him showing you songs from a band he loved or you making him watch a movie that was one of your favorites but he had somehow never seen before.

“We both equally suck at Statistics, so we probably did horrible on the project, but we’re going on a date next Friday,” Eddie told you and you only nodded in response. 

You needed to say actual words, it had been way too long since you’d spoken, but you had no idea what would be the right thing to say. You could’ve said that the timing for the date made perfect sense, it was right after finals and the semester would be over too so there wouldn’t be any school stress, but the words wouldn’t form on your lips, nothing would. 

You were suddenly glad that you had a class in a few minutes because that meant that you had a plausible reason to end the conversation and head inside of the old building that was to your left. This would probably be the first time that you wouldn’t despise sitting through an hour-long European History lecture. 

“That’s great, Eds,” You said and forced a smile that you hoped seemed genuine. You put your water back in your bag and then slung it over your shoulder. “I need to head to class. The professor is an asshole when it comes to people being late and I don’t want him to start hating me now when there’s only two more classes left. So, I’ll see you later and you have to tell me more about, um, Chrissy.”

Eddie nodded, still smiling. “Yeah, definitely, I think you’d like her.” 

“Cool,” You said as you stood up from the bench. “See you later.” 

You gave him a final smile before turning away and heading inside the building where your class was. You let out a soft sigh and felt the fake smile drop from your face as you pulled open the obnoxiously heavy door and walked toward the elevators. 

For the first time probably ever, you actually wanted to pay full attention to what your professor was droning on and on about because it would help push your thoughts away from everything else. But your mind was a traitor and it only wanted to focus on everything that Eddie had just said to you. 

It was just a first date, but there was something about the way he smiled as he talked about her and how happy he seemed about everything that let you know that one date wouldn’t be the end of it. 

You kept telling yourself that you were thinking way too far ahead for no reason— most first dates ended up going nowhere anyway. But sometimes it actually felt better to prepare for the worst than simply hope for the best.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

The tradition started when Talia brought home Monopoly in October. 

In hindsight, what should have happened following that night was it should’ve made you all realize that playing games together was a horrible idea. Because what ensued that night was six hours of near friendship-ending arguments and competitiveness. The only reason why Robin ended up winning was because by three in the morning, everyone else was sick of arguing and just wanted to go to sleep— Eddie had tapped out at midnight and fell asleep on the couch as the rest of you kept playing around the coffee table for a few more hours. 

Instead of that night scaring you all away from ever wanting to play any sort of game with one another again, it was simply decided that you all just wouldn’t play Monopoly again— except on super rare occasions— and you’d do a once a month game night with other games instead. Because even though a monthly game night with the five of you sounded very deadly, it also sounded very fun. 

It was a weird kind of environment that you were actually a little scared to throw Steve into. However, at this point, it had to happen. Mainly because you were already waving at him as he walked across the parking lot of your apartment building and headed toward you.

“I’m just now realizing that you’re probably gonna hate me for putting you through all of this tonight,” You said once Steve was close enough to you and started stepping through the door you pushed open for him. “Just remember that you wanted to come.” 

“Hello to you too,” He said as he started walking with you toward the elevators at the end of the hall. “How scary is this game night gonna be? Does the loser get murdered at the end or something?” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about the fifth roommate we had who was really terrible at charades so we had to sacrifice her. It was a whole thing. Don’t tell anyone, though,” You said and he let out a laugh at that. You shook your head after a second. “No, but things just get intense and stupidly competitive, so this might actually be the worst way for you to meet everyone.” 

“I can get really competitive too.”

You couldn’t entirely tell if he was joking or not, but you still nodded anyway. “Okay, in that case, you’ll fit right in.” 

“So, I know Eddie was fine with me coming,” Steve started as you two waited for the elevator; it would either take ten seconds to come or five minutes, somehow there was never any in-between. “But was everyone else?”

Surprisingly enough, Robin, Vickie, and Talia were actually completely okay with it— maybe even too okay with it. A part of you expected it to be the opposite because, even though it was never outwardly stated that game night was a “sacred” thing, it did feel like something that was meant just for the five of you. However, they wanted to meet Steve because it was unanimously agreed that you wanting to bring him to game night was a huge deal. 

“Yeah, they’re fine with it too. And they really want to meet you,” You answered, the elevator doors opening as you spoke. You both stepped in and you pressed “7” and then kept talking. “None of us ever want to bring other people to game night, so me asking you to come is kind of a big deal in their eyes.”

“Okay, that’s good. They believe we like each other.”

“Actually, since we’re seeing each other four days in a row now, they think we’re madly in love,” You told him with a laugh and roll of your eyes. You had to admit, though, if the tables were turned you would be thinking the exact same thing for any of them. 

“Honestly, that makes sense,” Steve responded. “I’ve never seen a girl I just met multiple days in a row, and I probably never would unless I was really into her.” 

“Or unless you want to fake date her.”

He laughed. “Yeah, that would also count.”  

The elevator ride was quick and it wasn’t until you and Steve were a few feet away from your apartment and moments away from stepping inside that you thought about something. 

You abruptly stopped walking and turned to look at him. “Shit, I should probably brief you on everyone so you can make a good impression or whatever. You obviously already know Eddie so I don’t need to tell you anything about him. But, anyway, Robin’s probably gonna be a little mean to you at first, but it’s only because she wants to play the “overprotective parent” role right now, not because she doesn’t like you. If she actually doesn’t like you she won’t talk to you for the rest of the night after the first conversation. And then Vickie—”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do this,” Steve interrupted with a quick shake of his head. “I’m good at making people like me.” 

There was the smallest part of you that wanted to roll your eyes at him saying that, but instead, you simply nodded. “Okay, but just don’t be too charming and nice, I know they’ll definitely hate that.” 

He looked at you, confused. “They’ll hate it if I’m too nice?”

You nodded immediately. “Yes, because it’ll seem fake. Just be, like… averagely nice.”

“What does that even mean?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know,” You shrugged. “Just be normal, I guess.”

You stepped closer to the unlocked door, but before you pushed it open, you reached out to grab Steve’s hand and linked it with yours. You noticed him glance down at your now intertwined hands and then give you a look that you couldn’t decipher. 

“What?” You asked.

“You hated holding hands with me last night.”

“I was way too in my head then,” You told him. “I feel better about everything now. Kinda. And everyone already thinks we really like each other, so we need to look like it.” 

“So, you won’t cringe again if I put my arm around you?”

“Nope, we’re dating so I’d actually love it if you did that,” You told him and plastered on a sweet smile.

Steve laughed a bit. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Also, I didn’t cringe when you did it last night. I was just surprised.” 

He gave you an amused look. “Okay, sure.” 

“And by the end of the night, I was much more okay and normal about it,” You added. 

Before he could potentially say anything in response to your words, you were putting an abrupt end to the conversation and finally opening the apartment door with your free hand. 

Everyone was still in the same spot that they had been in when you left to get Steve— settled in the living room on the small couch and loveseat, and a handful of board games scattered on the coffee table.

“Everyone, this is Steve,” You said, grabbing their collective attention and keeping the introduction as simple as possible. “Steve, this is everyone. Talia, Robin, and Vickie.” You pointed them out in that order and then you gestured to Eddie who was sitting on the couch next to Vickie. “And you already know Eddie.”

Quick “Hi’s” and “Hello’s” were said along with friendly smiles and Steve returned it all with a smile and “Hey, nice to meet you guys” of his own. It was a little hard to pretend that this didn’t feel entirely weird and out of place. The first time you were introducing your friends to a guy, and of course it was a guy that you were pretending to like and be with. And instead, the guy that you actually wanted to be with was only feet away and still felt entirely unattainable.

You were moments away from suddenly spiraling and overthinking everything that you were currently doing, but you didn’t get the chance to do so because Robin was standing up and joining you and Steve by the now shut front door.

“Can I steal him for a sec?”

You nodded as you dropped Steve’s hand. “Be nice, Rob.” 

She only smiled at you in response. 

You walked over to the couch, joining everyone else, and leaned against the arm of it. “Did you guys finally decide on what we’re playing first?” 

“We will be starting things off with a heated game of Pictionary,” Vickie answered.

“I personally wanted to play charades first, but I was sadly outvoted,” Talia told you. 

“I would’ve voted with you, Tal,” You said. 

She smiled at that and then looked at Eddie and Vickie. “Shall we do a revote?” 

Eddie shook his head, laughing a bit. “One vote won’t change the outcome.” 

“Exactly,” Vickie said with a nod.

“But,” Talia started. “Steve will probably also vote our way, for obvious reasons, and then it’ll be three against three.”

You turned your attention away from the brewing argument, which you knew would only be the first of many for the night, and looked at Robin and Steve. 

Apparently, Robin was done with doing the overprotective parent spiel because she was laughing and nodding at something Steve had said, and you truly wondered what they were talking about. Maybe he really wasn’t exaggerating when he said that he was good at making people like him. 

She said one final thing to him and then turned away, meeting your eyes and mouthing a “He’s cool” to you before taking her spot back next to Vickie on the couch. 

Instead of waving Steve over to where you were still leaning against the arm of the couch, you went over to him. You wanted to ask what Robin had just said to him— it was pretty clear that the short conversation went perfectly fine but you were still curious— but Steve spoke before you could. 

“It smells really good in here.” 

“Yeah, Talia made cinnamon rolls,” You said and gestured to where they sat in the kitchen, still cooling on the stove. “Definitely eat one later if you want an easy way for her to like you.” 

“Got it.”

“What did Robin say to you?” 

“I was told to never speak about any of what was said,” He told you, giving you a small teasing smile. “But, I’ll say that even though I’ve never seen The Godfather, that conversation is what I imagine that movie is like.”

“What? The Godfather? She was literally laughing and smiling.”

“That was way after she told me in a very serious voice that she’d castrate me if I ever hurt you,” He responded and then immediately rolled his eyes at himself when he realized that he accidentally just told you what was supposed to be “never spoken about.” “Shit.” 

You let out a laugh. “If this was a normal situation, I think my friend threatening to cut off your dick would’ve immediately scared you off.”

“Yes, it for sure would’ve, but good thing this isn’t a normal situation.”

“Great thing.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

For the first time probably ever, winning any game tonight wasn’t what was mainly on your mind. 

If this was any other game night, you would’ve joined in the argument about how the points were being stupidly disturbed during the Mario Kart tournament, or the one about Eddie and Talia accidentally, on purpose, going over the time during two of their rounds for charades, which they both vehemently denied even though the evidence was pretty clear.   

However, tonight, you were worried about other things. Worried about if you looked more comfortable with Steve than how you felt last night at the bar. If you looked like you were “madly in love” with him like everyone had playfully assumed you were. If any of what you two were doing even seemed believable to your friends. 

“Everything’s going fine,” Steve had assured you during the first brief “intermission” that happened after the final round of Pictionary. You two were grabbing cinnamon rolls in the kitchen, as per his request. You loved anything that Talia made, but you weren’t really in the mood to eat, so you just stood by as Steve ate his. “You’re thinking too much.”

“I keep forgetting that you’ve only known me for four days, but overthinking things is kind of my default setting,” You responded.

You broke his gaze and turned your head, immediately spotting Eddie across the room. He smiled at you when his eyes met yours and you instinctively smiled back and then just as quickly looked away because you were certain that your mind would head down another spiraling path if you looked at him any longer.

For the most part, though, you were still having fun. Kinda. 

After brutally losing at Pictionary, Steve was not lying when he said that he sucked at drawing, you and him were actually good at other stuff. Robin and Vickie won almost everything— whenever they paired up together on game nights they were always a pretty much unstoppable team— but you and Steve were at least able to come in second place for most of the games. 

He also wasn’t lying when he said that he was pretty competitive too. He fit in almost too perfectly with the chaotic energy of everyone else and it was surprising but also nice to see. It was probably the only part of the night that didn’t worry you. 

“You were right. Tonight went well,” You told Steve as you walked him to his car at the end of the night. The time was close to midnight, but it didn’t necessarily feel that late. “I think we’re actually pretty good at this.” 

“Games or fake dating?”

“Surprisingly both.” 

It was quiet for a second and then you were breaking the silence with something other than the “Bye” that probably should’ve been said. 

“I meant to ask this earlier, but have you told your parents about “us” yet?” 

“Not yet, but I’ll probably do it in a day or two. We don’t talk that often.”

“Okay, so I’ll hold off on stressing out about having to meet them,” You said, only slightly joking with your words. “Honestly, this entire night felt like you met my family.”

“Seriously?” He asked. 

You gave him a quick nod in response. “Yeah, I was pretty nervous about how all of this would go earlier.”

“So what would it feel like meeting your actual parents?” 

You thought about his question for a second, but you couldn’t think of a simple enough answer that would sum up every thought that suddenly came to mind.

“I don’t know, honestly,” You shrugged. You could’ve explained further— talked about how the relationships with your friends somehow made much more sense, and at times felt even more significant, than the relationships you had with your parents— but you didn’t want to say any of that right then, and Steve didn’t ask you to elaborate, so you didn’t. 

Another stretch of silence prevailed and if you really wanted to, you could’ve come up with something to say, but the conversation simply felt as if it was at its natural end.

You were suddenly realizing that you weren’t sure what you and Steve were aside from fake boyfriend and girlfriend. This didn’t necessarily feel like a friendship because you still felt as if you barely knew him, but the two of you definitely weren’t fully strangers anymore either. 

In the weirdest way what you two were doing felt equivalent to a group project; forced together for specific circumstances and once it was done that would be it.

“Okay… Well, see you later, partner,” You said before realizing that he didn’t know about the group project analogy that you just thought of.

Steve gave you an amused smile and nodded. “Yeah, see you later.”

You decided against watching him get in his car and drive away, and you instead rolled your eyes at yourself for letting things end on the weirdest note as you headed back into your building. You were a little tired, but any hint of it went away when you walked in the apartment and spotted Eddie in the kitchen, looking through the fridge. 

“I’m assuming everyone immediately went to bed,” You said as you joined him in the kitchen and grabbed the final cinnamon roll that was left. 

“Yup,” Eddie said, pulling out a water from the fridge and then closing it. “Somehow I don’t feel tired at all, though.” 

“We can watch a couple episodes of the show they watched Friday night if you want. Apparently, it’s absolutely terrible, but in a good way,” You suggested, not at all thinking about your class in the morning or needing to wake up at a decent time for it. “You’re staying over, right?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be the fifth roommate for the night and camp out on the couch.”

“Okay, so it’s decided. Shitty reality TV until we fall asleep,” You said and he nodded in agreement. 

You both settled on the couch and Eddie was the one to grab the blanket that was draped against the back of the couch and toss it over your laps. The show was easy to make fun of and laugh at and barely thirty minutes into the first episode you completely understood why Robin, Vickie, and Talia had been obsessed with watching it. 

“So you really like Steve?” 

You were surprised by the randomness of Eddie’s question and for a second you thought that you somehow imagined it. 

“Yeah, um, I think so, yeah,” You answered after what you hoped didn’t feel like too long of a silence. “He’s really great.” 

“That’s cool,” Eddie responded, and you met his eyes then. He had a certain look on his face that you weren't able to decipher. For a moment, you thought it was jealousy, but you quickly thought against it when you remembered that this whole thing probably wasn’t going to be that easy.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for ignoring my boyfriend?

basically i (16m) have fallen out of love with this guy (17m). we kind of have history where i’ve dumped him before but we got together again about a month ago. i was the one who asked him out, but i really thought we could make it work this time.

however, after being with him more i’ve realised that there’s just no way this is ever going to work. he’s a hopeless romantic, very extroverted and sensitive, and i’m more pragmatic and closed off. i know differences make a relationship exciting, but our priorities in life are totally different—he’s very chill and wants to go with the flow; i’m very ambitious and committed to chasing my dreams. i also want to move overseas when i graduate, so it would be an ldr even if we did stay together. he can’t keep a secret, so i can’t trust him, etc. we just don’t click.

i’m pretty much already set on breaking up with him, if he doesn’t do it first. but i care about him as a person, and i want to break his heart as gently as possible. and i think he’s already getting frustrated with my lack of physical affection etc? so i figured if i’m just colder and colder towards him, eventually he’ll get so resentful of me that when we break up it won’t hurt him as much. if anything it’ll make it easier for him to get over it, right?

so when i pass by him and stuff, if we don’t make eye contact or any obvious signal that i’ve noticed his presence, i just walk past. i purposely don’t go with him for school projects etc. when i see his messages pop up on my phone, i ignore them and reply to him much later, and very dryly.

it’s a really shitty thing to do, but it’ll make him less hurt in the long run, so is it really that wrong?

What are these acronyms?

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (12)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer gets closer to the truth while she feels suffocated by the situation. wc: 4.3k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA

a/n: Let me give you a long part as a token of my apology for being a slow writer. I hope this was worth the wait

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"WE BELIEVE WE ARE DEALING WITH A MALE OFFENDER IN HIS LATE 20s TO EARLY 30s," Aaron Hotchner announced, his voice loud and jarring. "Based on the crime scenes, the Unsub doesn't have a lot of experience as they were most likely done in a moment of rage."

The team stood in front of the bullpen, facing a room full of officers and agents scattered along the space. Pens clicked and notepads rustled around them as everyone prepared to add insights to their unfolding narrative.

Rossi, who stood by the evidence board, skimmed his eyes across the room. "It suggests someone who is impulsive and might have difficulty controlling urges. This could also be a sign of an underlying mental illness."

"It's likely that there is some kind of history there, either of abuse or trauma in their childhood," JJ added. "It seems that the Unsub may have difficulty connecting with or relating to others and may be socially isolated as a result. He would mostly like to keep to himself."

Spencer took a step forward and carried on with their profile of the unidentified suspect. "The Unsub might also have grown up in a deeply religious environment. Their beliefs may have become twisted and distorted, leading them to believe that they possess a unique calling to carry out their crimes as a way of punishment."

"Based on the victims, the Unsub has targeted specific people whom they believe have harmed one of our witnesses," Morgan added, his voice seeming to turn deeper as he continued, "Y/n L/n."

A jolt of electricity surged through Spencer's consciousness. The human mind really was a powerful thing. Somehow the simple sound of her name projected the memories he had of her and suddenly he was seeing her face, her radiant smile, her beautiful eyes—he was seeing her so clearly as if she were standing right before him.

But then Emily moved past him, jolting him awake from his reverie as she bumped against his shoulder. "The Unsub has a sense of loyalty to her that they are acting out these crimes as a desire for retribution on her behalf. They might believe that they have a connection or some kind of relationship with Ms. L/n."

"We believe the Unsub might know her personally," Hotch addressed, his eyes, sharp and penetrating, scanning around him. "Go through places where the witness is most likely to go. This could be her neighborhood, workplace, daily commute, and so on."

The atmosphere seemed to shift as he finally dismissed the room. Everyone rose from their seats, each one heading to their respective posts and assignments. It didn't take long for the phones to ring in the background, followed by the constant shuffle of feet as the entire space started to come alive.

And as Spencer turned back to his desk, a familiar man pushing the glass doors of the office suddenly caught his attention. His steps faltered while the man looked around the room as recognition hit him. Spencer walked over, addressing him as one of the witnesses. "Mr. Adler?"

The other man blew out a sigh of relief. "Eric, please." He entered the office and gave Spencer a look. "The people downstairs told me I could find you here."

"You were looking for me?" He frowned. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I hope so," Eric replied. "Has there been any missing person report lately?"

The confusion on his face grew prominent at the question. "Not that I know of. Why? Is someone you know missing?"

"A coworker of mine hasn't shown up to work and I can't contact any of his family members," he explained. "I'm starting to get worried."

"What's his name?"

"Oliver Walsh."

Having an eidetic memory helped him recall the name easily. His mind went through all the information he gathered these past few days and remembered the exact name written on the list of employees. "When did you last see him?"

"Three—no, four days ago. He left work looking very troubled."

Spencer's brow was furrowed, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on Eric's. "Troubled?"

Eric nodded. "He seemed distracted."

"Do you have any idea why he acted the way he did?"

"No," he responded. And then it suddenly happened. His eyes, previously engaged in maintaining eye contact, drifted upward for a fleeting second. It was as though a switch had been flipped in his mind and the gears of his memory whirred to life. "Although he did seem to act different that day... especially towards Y/n."

His stomach churned. A subtle tremor coursed through his limbs, betraying the unease that was slowly but unmistakably creeping into his consciousness. "...Y/n?"

"You remember her, right? She was with me the night it happened."

Remember her? She was the only person he couldn't stop thinking about. Spencer cleared his throat and leaned forward. "I'm aware Ms. L/n was also a witness."

"Well, Oliver has been fixated on her for so long, everyone in the office knows this. Y/n mostly thinks of it as a joke but I don't think Oliver sees it the same way as she does."

"And something happened between them on the day you last saw him?"

"I'm not sure." Eric sighed. "I saw them talking after work hours, and by the looks of it, I think Y/n was pissed at him." He then crossed his arms, his brows in deep concentration as he seemed to be recalling that day. "She looked like she was under a lot of stress, actually."

"Did you hear what they were talking about?"

"No. But after that, Oliver didn't seem like himself anymore. Then he didn't come to work the next day..." Eric trailed off, his eyes casting down before he mumbled, "I still don't know where he is now."

Spencer's mind suddenly became a whirlwind of calculated chaos, connecting the dots with lightning precision. His heart raced in his chest, pounding out a rhythm of urgency that echoed in his ears. There was no room for hesitation, no luxury of second-guessing.

He needed to move fast.

"Emily!" He called out as he saw his friend walking past them, quickly stopping her pace at the mention of her name. "Can you help Mr. Adler file a missing person report?"

"Uh..." she looked between the two men, uncertainty written across her face. There were questions lingering at the tip of her tongue but she stopped herself when she saw the urgent look Spencer was throwing at her. "Of course," she decided to agree, her attention shifting to the other man. "Right this way."

With a swift, purposeful stride, Spencer left them behind, his footsteps echoing the urgency that had taken hold of him. His heart was still racing when he walked down the corridor, quickly making his way to the room down the hall.

The door swung open with a resolute push, and he entered the room, his senses on high alert. "Garcia."

"I wasn't doing anything!" The woman sitting before him shrieked, closing the window tabs on the screen in front of her. Usually, Spencer would tease her on how unprofessional it was to be doing something else that wasn't related to work, but he didn't have the time to engage in playful banter.

Spencer stepped behind her, placing a hand on the back of her chair. "Garcia, I need you to find Oliver Walsh for me."

She wasted no time. Her fingers danced across the keyboard with a rapid, almost feverish intensity. "Oliver... Walsh..." The soft clatter of keys echoed in the room as she navigated through files and databases. "There are too many Oliver Walsh in this country."

"He works at the same company as Y/n."

"Should've mentioned that sooner." Her eyes scanned lines of text, images, and documents in front of her. "Bingo. Oliver Conrad Walsh was born on 18th December 1991 as an only child—wait, look at this. His family was part of The Haven Hill... a sanctuary of unwavering faith and profound tranquility?"

"Is it some kind of a cult?"

"I don't think so." Her eyes landed on an old article buried within the archives and clicked on the link before a picture of a worn-out brochure greeted them. "Prospective members are welcomed into Haven Hill, a secluded and serene enclave where faith and tradition unite. It seems like a very tight-knit community with a very religious belief—oh!"

Her fingers moved as she navigated through digital records. "Reid..."

"What is it?"

The screen suddenly displayed a grim history of illicit activities and misdeeds, a virtual breadcrumb trail leading them closer to the truth.

"Oliver Walsh was far from being a saint albeit growing up in a religious environment. Along with his group of friends, he was constantly rebelling ever since a very young age. He had to do a lot of community service for it too; underage drinking, burglary, public disturbances—oh dear."

"Attempt sexual assault?" Spencer read out loud.

"...a group of underage boys was proved guilty of trying to violate a fourteen-year-old girl on school grounds—"

"Garcia," Spencer stopped her, not wanting to listen to the rest of the story. "Give me his current address."

"Already on it," she responded, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Spencer's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't believe this, the suspect was no longer a shadowy figure; they were becoming real, tangible, and within his grasp. Then his eyes caught the shot of the man on the screen. A jolt of recognition surged through him as he scrutinized the suspect's image on the screen. The face staring back at him carried a haunting familiarity.

Memories raced through his mind like flickering images from the past. He remembered him, he always remembered people's faces, and that man right there was the same man he had seen in Y/n's house that afternoon. There was a huge chance this was all a coincidence.

But there was also a possibility of Oliver Walsh being the Unsub.

He didn't know which one was true, but what he did know was that he needed to find out the truth.

The sudden, shrill ring of his phone shattered the intensity of the moment. It was a jarring intrusion, snapping him back to the present. With a swift, almost automatic motion, Spencer reached for the device and answered the call without looking away from the screen. "Yes?"

"Agent Reid," the person on the other line greeted, their words rushed in a moment of panic. "I can't find her."

Spencer pulled his phone away from his face and glanced at the caller ID. Officer Anderson. A sense of relentless panic coursed through him as the realization hit like a lightning bolt. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach, a visceral reaction to the gravity of the call.

"What do you mean you can't find her?"

"I—" There was a sigh. "I-I was watching inside my car and I somehow ended up sleeping. She's nowhere inside the house now—"

"Did you call her?"

"She left her phone in the kitchen."

At that moment, he was acutely aware of every heartbeat, every pulse of blood coursing through his veins. Panic resounded through his thoughts, casting a dark shadow over him. It was a visceral, gut-wrenching sensation that threatened to paralyze him like the ground had suddenly shifted beneath his feet.

"I apologize, Agent Reid."

But then anger coursed through his body. He was suddenly angry—Angry at the situation, angry at the Unsub, angry at the officer who couldn't seem to do his one simple job. His jaw clenched, his knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone tighter, and his eyes flashed with fury.

"Being sorry isn't going to help you find her," he snapped. He then straightened himself. "I'll be there in ten."

"What happened?" Garcia whispered, noticing the sudden tension in his shoulder.

Spencer shoved back his phone and turned to her. "Garcia, I need you to inform the others, I have to go."

"What?!" She yelped, watching as he turned away from her. "Right now? Where are you going?"

But her question was left unanswered as he bolted out of the door.

There was no other way to explain what being followed by a disguised officer felt like. It was suffocating. Even everything felt suffocating these days, and when she meant everything, Y/n really meant everything.

At first, the idea of protection had offered comfort, but now it was an oppressive weight that bore down on her shoulders. Everywhere she turned, a shadow loomed, an unwelcome reminder of the loss of her freedom. The suffocating sensation was inescapable, restricting her every movement.

The constant surveillance had pushed her to the brink of stress and manifested in the form of tension that coiled within her, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. Her patience wore thin and the weight of anxiety rested heavy on her chest. One moment she was on the verge of tears, the next, she was snapping with sharp words, irritable and sullen.

She really needed a break.

"You should go to the gym," Sandy had suggested the other day. "It might help relieve the stress."

After debating whether it was a good idea to visit the gym when she couldn't even remember the last time she stepped foot on a treadmill, she finally decided to slip out of the house. She walked over to the black car she already grew familiar with and stood by the window—only to find Officer Anderson fast asleep behind the wheels.

A pang of guilt tugged at her, but the allure of temporary freedom was too strong to resist. It was an unexpected opportunity, a rare moment of freedom dangling before her like a tempting prize. Was it wise to leave without informing him? Probably not. But she couldn't imagine herself working out—all awkward, tired, and sweaty—with Officer Anderson watching her from the corner.

So silently, she retraced her steps. Her pulse quickened with a mix of trepidation and exhilaration as she walked away. It would be fine, she had assured herself. She would be back before he realized she was even gone. And with that thought in mind, she quickly made her way to the closest gym around the corner.

The place felt both familiar and foreign as she navigated the equipment, but she finally found her place in an exercise routine. Her muscles protested the unaccustomed effort, but with each movement, she could feel the tension slowly dissipating. It wasn't until she could barely feel her limbs anymore that she stopped and left the place.

Even though her body was aching from pushing her body to its limit, she did feel slightly better. Her steps also did feel lighter when she walked back to her home, and her mind felt calmer, and less chaotic than it did when she left her house. But as she approached her street, a knot of unease tightened in her stomach.

The evening's fading light cast long, ominous shadows that seemed to reach out and embrace her front door, which stood ajar. It was an unexpected sight, one that sent a chill down her spine. Two things flashed into her mind at that very moment. One, she realized Officer Anderson was nowhere in sight. His usual parked car looked very much abandoned with no one inside the vehicle. Two, she could probably die if she entered her house alone in this state.

Maybe she should call the police. Maybe she should call Spencer... Yeah right, she didn't even have his number. Maybe she should just call Agent Jareau. Or Agent Prentiss. Yes, that would be a wiser option than to—shit. She clutched her empty pockets.

She didn't even bring her phone to begin with.

She cursed to herself. This was a bad, bad decision. She was probably going to regret this, but she couldn't just stand there and do nothing. So very cautiously, she approached her house, her senses on high alert.

As she pushed the door open wider, it revealed a slice of the dimly lit interior. She couldn't help but hold her breath as she stepped over the threshold, her footsteps hesitant, almost reverent, on the creaking floorboards.

She stepped deeper into her home and slowly entered the dimly lit kitchen. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw a figure standing shrouded in shadows, a silhouette in the gloom. A gasp of shock emitted through her lips, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, recognition washed over her like a tidal wave.

"Officer Anderson!" She yelled, placing a hand over her heart. "You scared me!"

"Ms. L/n," he breathed out, his expression softening when he saw her. "Where have you been?"

Guilt washed over her as she noticed the concern in his eyes but she quickly dismissed it, stepping further into the room, and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. "I went to the gym."

"Why didn't you tell me? I'm supposed to accompany you—"

"You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you."

"You should've woken me up, Ms. L/n."

"You looked like you could use some sleep," she mentioned before glancing at the clock perched on the wall. "I was only gone for like an hour, it's not a big deal."

Officer Anderson looked like he wanted to argue with her, but stopped himself before letting out a sigh. "Can you please inform me whenever you step out of the house, even when I might be asleep?"

His concerned gaze met hers as he turned to her, a mixture of relief and worry in his eyes. Guilt twisted in her chest as she nodded. "Alright, I will."

"And please bring your phone with you at all times."

Her eyes snapped towards the device sitting on the counter. "I did forget to bring it with me, I'm sorry."

With a nod, the officer excused himself, giving her a moment of privacy to collect her thoughts. She watched him go, his retreating figure a testament to his dedication, despite the surprise of her brief absence.

Feeling overwhelmed by the mix of emotions—being scrutinized by an authority, being a potential target of a serial killer still on the loose—she retreated to her room, seeking solace in the familiar confines of her private space. She quickly peeled off her clothes which clung to her body from all the sweat and stepped into her bathroom.

The sound of running water filled the room as she turned on the shower, its warmth a soothing embrace. Steam enveloped her, and as the water cascaded over her body, the tension that had coiled within her began to unravel. Under the gentle caress of the water, she closed her eyes. Her shoulders trembled with the tension she had carried for so long, the weight of guilt, responsibility, and emotions too complex to unravel.

How had things turned the way it did? A few weeks ago her life seemed normal, yet now she was linked to a crime with her name at the center of it. This felt so unfair. Why her? Why now? Wh—

Bang!

She opened her eyes.

What was it now?

It sounded... it sounded like a thud coming from somewhere in her house.

The sudden interruption jolted her from the sanctuary of the shower. Her heart raced as she hastily wrapped a towel around herself and emerged from the bathroom, water droplets glistening on her skin. The door to her room suddenly wrenched open with force before a figure she last expected walked in.

"What the—Spencer!" She gasped, not believing who she was seeing. "What the hell?!"

His gaze met hers, and she saw something in his expression that sent a shiver down her spine. It was an anger she hadn't seen before, a storm brewing beneath the surface of his usual calm demeanor. His jaw was clenched, and his normally warm eyes were steely and cold.

"Are you crazy?" He suddenly snapped.

"Me?" She wailed, tightening the towel around her body. "Are you crazy? What are you even doing here?"

"What were you thinking going out without notice?" Spencer's tone was incredulous, his anger unabated. "Without informing Officer Anderson?"

So this was why he was here? To confront her reckless action perhaps?

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "He looked like he needed the sleep after constantly watching me with little to no rest."

Spencer's frustration deepened, his brows furrowing. "He's assigned to you to keep you safe. You can't just disappear like that, it's irresponsible."

"Well excuse me for being considerate," she retorted.

"You were being reckless."

"No," she argued. "I was being thoughtful."

"Why are you not taking this seriously?" His voice grew sharper, a desperate attempt to make her understand as he stalked towards her. "Can't you understand you were putting yourself at risk?"

"I was only gone for an hour."

"Something could've happened!"

"But nothing did!"

She met his frustration with a defiant glare, holding her ground as he approached her, his tall, intimidating frame only stopping when he was directly in front of her. She saw his eyes drift down her body before pinning his gaze on her face again.

"Y/n, I need you to be safe."

"I am safe! I've been safe ever since you guys put someone to watch over me. I've been safe ever since the same person has been following me everywhere I go, which if you haven't caught on my sarcasm, has made me feel more like in prison than actually feeling protected." Her voice was tinged with frustration as she squared her shoulders, refusing to back down. "It's like I'm being controlled."

"It's not about controlling you, it's about ensuring that nothing bad happens to you."

"I was simply gone for an hour, Spencer," she reminded him again. "No need to go all dramatic over it."

Then in the blink of an eye, the heated tension that had filled the room seemed to snap, leaving them both breathless and disarmed. But instead of reacting with anger or shouting, Spencer's frustration found a different outlet.

"Why are you not fucking listening to me?"

And in a sudden and unexpected gesture, he cupped her face in his hands. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, filled with a mix of emotions too complex to name. And then, in a burst of raw and unspoken desire, he leaned in and crashed his lips on her.

She was too stunned to speak, too stunned to respond. There was nothing else she could do but to give in his advance, because dear god, it felt too good to have his mouth moving against hers again. Spencer had kissed her many times before, but not like this. Not this rough. She could even feel the frustration seeping from his body as his lips moved against hers with urgency.

He continued to kiss her, biting hard at her bottom lip, teeth gnashing against the soft flesh of it as a rumbling noise vibrated deep in his chest. Each time she gasped in response at his teeth, his tongue forced its way into her mouth and lapped so mercilessly that she was left desperate for air each time he returned to assaulting her with his teeth and lips.

"Is this what it would take for you to listen?" He growled against her mouth. "Is this what you want?"

Speechless, she responded to his ardor with a fervor of her own, her body leaning into his, fingers tracing the contours of his face. She continued to stare up at him, trying to quickly piece together what was going on, though she nevertheless found herself aroused. It was as if their desire, long suppressed by their arguments and differences, had suddenly ignited, leaving them both powerless to resist the pull of passion.

"Answer me," he barked out.

"Yes," she finally breathed out. "Yes."

Releasing her face, his hands rose in between them. Her eyes dropped down, watching as he gripped her towel with so much force before he ripped it off her body in one swift movement, throwing the material onto the floor.

His eyes roamed over her body, tracing every curve and contour with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. His hands traced over her sides before he gripped onto her hips, tugging her towards him desperately. "I won't be able to restrain myself."

She knew what he meant. She was acutely aware of the tension seeping from his body, all the anger, all the frustration. She understood how hard these past few days had been for him, she could even feel it from the taught in his muscles. He was tensed and from the way he was looking at her with hooded eyes, he needed a release.

And so did she.

The intensity of the moment had ignited a different kind of fire within her, and her previous anger and frustration began to fade away, which was why she found one of her hands caressing his cheek, pulling him closer as he leaned his forehead against hers. "Then don't," she whispered. "Use me."

His eyes snapped to her.

"You can use me, Spencer," she assured him. "Use me in any way you want."

There was a moment of silence as he contemplated her words. "Do you mean that?"

She nodded. She missed this—dear god, she missed him so much. She hadn't realized how much she missed being close to him until she was standing naked underneath his heated gaze.

She pressed her lips against his softly. "I'm all yours."

And then he deepened the kiss and she melted into him, her tongue dancing with his. He slowly loosened his grip on her hips and found its way onto her hand resting against his cheek. He pulled away from her, tugging her hand towards him, his mouth hovering above her wrist.

"In any way I want?" He asked, gently brushing his lips over her pulse.

"Any way you want."

He smiled at her then, the first smile she saw on him ever since he barged into her room unexpectedly. But there was something about his smile that sent her into a frenzy of nerves. It wasn't genuine, it wasn't gentle.

It wasn't until his other hand reached behind him that she finally understood what his smile meant. Because right at that moment, to her surprise, he retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, and with a soft click he carefully bounded one of her wrists, the steel bracelets feeling cool against her damp skin.

And then his smile morphed into a more dominant edge as he leaned closer, his eyes burning with need.

"Any way I want."

>> NEXT PART

a/n: Did you think I wasn't going to insert another smutty scene in between all the chaos? You thought wrong!

.

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[comfortless]

sylly (like silly yk yk) what are your könig hcs? 🌹

SYLLY?! i…. Ok…. fair warning this is a little long… all that i do is think about this guy someone get him out of my head.

tread carefully reading this! there is a lot of sensitive content here: mental health stuff, abuse, mentions of sex and pornographic material, suicidal ideation, etc etc.

Generic, silly headcanons:

He prefers coffee (black) over tea, but he does have a bit of a sweet tooth (will never resist caramel if it’s presented to him). Honestly, he’s pretty self-reliant when it comes to food, too. On lazy days, he makes enough to where a takeout bill is hardly a concern, but for the most part he cooks! Not a chef by any means, but nothing he ever makes is bad!

Definitely wants a big, loving family, the polar opposite of what he had growing up as an only child in a far less than perfect household. Not a dealbreaker, but he does yearn for all of the love that he’s missed out on and then some.

Not big on video games, but… I do think he is absolutely spending every lonely leave playing Elder Scrolls. Would be so easy to convince to go larping or to a renfaire. I see everyone’s car/bike guy headcanons and I raise you… obsessed with fantasy König. He loves history and myth!! Why not combine the two and see him in chainmail.

The scent & kink posts. But to add… he’s an affectionate biter. (,: Knows the correct places to do so that won’t cause damage or hurt too terribly much. Likes to sniff you just as well! The embodiment of the “merge souls with me” post; in love, he just wants to feel you any way that he can and have some part of you lingering on him, even if it’s just a stray hair or your scent clinging to his shirt or pillowcase.

Cheating is never on this guy’s mind when he’s in a relationship. If he’s found a lady not running for the hills the second she catches sight of him, that’s his one and only. Sure, he may find himself attracted to someone else at some point or other during the duration of a relationship, but he’s devoted and disciplined! There’s never the fear of anyone coming in between he and his lover. He’ll spoil you with gifts, clingy to a point it’s overbearing, always giving you the utmost care… but is not opposed to bullying you into being a submissive, trembling mess either. He’s balanced!

Adores animals. Like any of them. There’s a special place in his heart for cats, but having a constant companion that he can take on hikes like a large dog would be ideal. Would definitely consider owning a tarantula or a snake, too. ^^ He isn’t scared of anything, let alone a creature that most are misinformed about… (he projects a little..). He would treat them just as well as anyone would treat a more “normal” pet. Understanding if you wouldn’t want to hold a giant arachnid (they’re delicate and you squirming over it would make him a bit protective over the poor thing. ): ), but it would mean a lot to him if you were more accepting.

König would not be a pretty sight (to most people) the majority of the time… I doubt that he takes care of himself past training his body and his allotted one-two minute military showers. His character description describes what is rumored to be under his mask as scary. Let him have his buzzcut, and scars, and teeth or old wounds a little too fucked up to fix! Unconventionally attractive is still attractive! (i think his ‘face reveal’ is actually so cute…)

Lots of sporadic little thoughts, but… Ambidextrous, can not ride a bike, whistles/hums to fill lapses of silence, flexes his fingers/cracks his knuckles when he’s nervous, definitely snores (loudly), brushes his teeth like 3-4 times a day (when he can) because he eats so much, not a picky eater at all, thinks it’s cute if you’re affectionately a little grossed out by him from time to time, absolutely the kind of person that thinks fuel and fire smell good, fluent in English and German but certainly knows many words and phrases from other languages.

Kind of clumsy. Overthinks the way his body looks to the point where sometimes his movements are a little stiff. Overestimates how tall a door frame may be if he’s distracted in the presence of others, hits his head and plays it off like he didn’t even notice. He’s (obviously) highly confident on the field, but in regular circumstances it’s totally reversed.

Though. Yeah. Sometimes this does translate onto the field. Can’t stay in one place for too long, once knocked an enemy soldier out by barreling into him. He’s a quick shot, skillful with any weapon that falls into his hands, but his focus can get a little skewed.

He collects some things. Nothing exactly pricy, but antique knives, coins, and a pocket watch or two. And he isn’t the most apt at putting things together in an appealing way… The first time you’re allowed into his house it looks like he’s robbed some vintage hunting shop/is planning something nefarious with the way he’s just got a few daggers strewn about his kitchen table. Just push them to the side, it’s fine! (His favorite is certainly one with a handle carved from a stag’s antler.)

Definitely takes a physical approach to bad feelings. @melancholic-thing mentioned to me that he bites himself when he’s feeling dejected or frustrated and yeah. (All of Ghost’s hcs for him are factually correct.) Not going to punch a hole through the wall but may aggressively slam a door or raise his voice before he can catch himself.

I have many thoughts about König’s childhood/early adulthood. Like, too many. But to summarize…

I think that everyone experiences bullying to an extent but what would make it so bad that it managed to make its way into the scraps that we do have of him? What made him so fundamentally unlikable to his peers? /: With my König I’ve settled on it being a blend of neurodivergency and a nightmare home life and alienation from his peers.

Height is predominantly viewed as a good trait. I don’t think it was necessarily his appearance at all that got him picked on so heavily (albeit… I do think that he would have had some scars, crooked teeth, regular facial bruising or cuts from scraps with other children/his father). Perhaps not the most conventionally attractive guy around, but normally viewed as a solid 5/10, just average. The kind of person who you wouldn’t remember from just a face alone.

His personality was always memorable though.

Whilst the other children/teenagers were interested in the regular trends, sports, whatever was shown on the television or heard on the radio at the time, I think he probably would have had a great interest in escapism!!

Comics, books, researching history and geography, etc, anything that could keep him from thinking of where he was/what other people viewed him as. He had a lot of strange things to say: odd facts (like the kind of person to tell you the longest word in the dictionary because he thinks it’s cool, “um actually—“ to correct something, monologuing about some bug you’ve just squashed and how it was not just a pest but very useful in nature, borderline concerning reactions to being shunned (feigned threats of violence that he would laugh off, things he’s probably heard from media and his own parents), over explaining himself for the simplest of misunderstandings, and… quoting his Oma’s very old-fashioned turns of phrase (think of little Kö regularly saying “Du gehst mir tierisch auf den Keks.” when he’s annoyed whereas the others say things far less dated like “Du gehst mir auf den Sack.”)

With him being difficult to relate to and having the most uncanny things slip out of his mouth, others probably did view him as a bit of a freak. He didn’t particularly stand up for himself often either apart from a few fights (and would never hit a girl). He would stay quiet, pretend to focus on his studies or whatever else was before him while the other children jeered and taunted. Regularly a target for fake confessions and offers to hang out outside of school, too.

König did have crushes, did have people he thought were cool and wanted to befriend, but after the third time of showing up someplace that he had to walk to on his own to find that no one had actually wanted to spend their time with him, he gave up.

I don’t think he had a good relationship with his parents or much of anyone. Seriously, leaving for the military at seventeen sets off a ton of alarm bells! He left the week of his Oma’s passing, because what else was there for him — no girlfriend, no prospects, hardly a relationship with his mother or father.

His father was your standard shit parent— womanizing, loud, physically abusive towards König. “Bonding” activities with him always had a heavy lean towards violence: hunting and arguing that usually resulted in fist fighting his own son seemed to be his favorites. A small man with an equally small ego— he probably would have boasted about his affairs to König, exposed him to pornography as a way of making sure his son wasn’t anything other than straight (which: never stopped his curiosity). He would never hold back from telling König that he would never in a million years find a girl willing to put up with his supposed stupidity and shortcomings. Generally just viewed his own son as utterly worthless if not for use as a punching bag.

In turn, König always loathed him, would dread hearing the bastard just walking around the house because he knew he would always find something to bicker with his wife or son over. Nothing that they ever did would be deemed correct, and his social anxiety initially developed from his dealings with him.

His mother was withdrawn, emotionally neglectful. König was just… there to her; another mouth to feed, another person begging for the attention she would have rather spared on herself.

She wasn’t a bad mother and she did try, but the product of dealing with his father’s nonsense + letting her own mental illness go unchecked (as in, his father controlled the family financially and why would he let her blow through their funds to see a therapist and “lose her lucidity with pills and ridiculous talks”). There were some days when she would be feeling more like herself and take König along with her for walks through the park where she would try to ask him about his life, about school, and… he would end up spilling his guts to her only for her to return to silence. Still, those were his favorite days. His fondest memory was picking a flower for her on one of those walks, one that she kept pressed and later framed.

There were never family dinners, no movie nights, no day trips or vacations. The most blissful of days were spent in the comfort of his room where he could keep the door locked and muffle the sounds of his parents arguing with loud music.

So, König did not have much of a safe space within his own home, but he had his Oma and her cluttered little house. She had books and plenty of food, even a cat, too. Though she was like his mother, stern and withdrawn, she would at least sit with him and tell him stories of her own life. She would at least tell him “Ich lieb dich, Käferchen!” in her quiet voice, stroke his head where he would sit with his nose buried in a book beside her. She would show him her dusty antiques, her old photographs, and in turn taught him to be a proper man by making him tend to what needed to be done around her house. And the garden. He loved his Oma’s garden, full of orchids, petunias, and tomatoes she would mash up to make him goulash or tomatensalat!

With Austria’s leading religion being Catholicism, I do think his Oma would have dragged him with her to service plenty, too. Not that he ever particularly enjoyed it… just zoned out with a plastic soldier in his pocket to fidget with or some trading card he spent the money he earned doing chores for her on. He’s never considered himself religious, thought himself to be bound for Hell no matter what, even if most of the time he felt that he was already there.

You take a puppy that’s been beaten down his entire life, but still remains eager and throw him in a barrack with people more horrible than any bully he’s ever had, though…? He starts taking his father’s advice more and more then. He wouldn’t harm anyone that he didn’t view as deserving of it, but it didn’t need to go that far that often, anyway. König is aware of the space he takes up by then, aware that all of his training has made him more broad and sturdy, and those playground fights are nothing compared to what he’s capable of now.

He gets his callsign from a quip about him owning nothing. His barrack is empty, devoid of pictures or any sentimental belongings. He rarely checks his phone, there might be the occasional missed call from a spam number, what is there to even see? He has no social media presence, every leave is spent in a shitty apartment only a days travel from his hometown, and he is utterly silent when the other soldiers invite him out for drinks. So yes, he’s a king. The king of absolutely nothing.

One of these rowdy boys does eventually coax him into talking to a woman. He loses his virginity in a disgusting bar bathroom, where he asks her after the two minutes he’s spent inside of her if it means anything to her at all. She laughs, washes herself in the sink and calms him down, but doesn’t give him her number or anything more than her first name.

He’s starved for love, utterly miserable without it, but doesn’t have much of a desire to seek it out, either. He’s seen how people are, how they treat him. But time and time again he will grapple onto any thread that may lead him to a pinhole of hope when it’s offered to him. For the most part, he has his hand and a perpetually almost-empty bottle of lotion.

And it’s not much of a surprise that König has contemplated suicide more times than he can count. It has never culminated in any way, only fearing that he would disappoint his men, even further disappoint his parents, maybe even a small part of him still believes in a Hell; that maybe with enough vigilantism on his part he’ll earn his way to a pleasant afterlife, one he teeters on the separation of believing in and not.

He doesn’t think about his mental health, always haunted by his father’s words, thinking that assuredly it would make him weak if he were to seek help for something like his own thoughts. So he overexerts himself during workouts, bottles everything other than rage and love inside: no one is going to see him cry, not ever again after being laughed at for him hundreds of times during school where he sat being called an “ugly giant” a “daydreaming freak” and an “idiot” near daily where silent tears did escape, only spurring further laughter.

Though I do not write him with these things in mind for every au, there are always subtle hints scattered about. ^^ I could probably prattle on forever about him, but I will leave you with this for now…

[syoddeye]

the reward

ceo!price x reader / ~2.5k words

This can be considered the first half of part 4 of Business or Pleasure? my lil ceo!price x reader side project. Please enjoy! 🖤

Parts 1, 2, and 3

CW: hinted possessiveness, power imbalance, alcohol

The reward was never a choice. Cute, in hindsight, how you thought it was and politely declined to exit the car. 

Mr. Price squashed your resolve with one look. Both of his eyebrows raised in an expression of almost tired disbelief, mouth a firm line, and a disapproving sound pushing through it. "Hmm. You sure? Store's open just for us, y'really going to make them stay on longer?"

Sufficiently guilt-tripped, you concede.

You expect the pair of sales associates to be miffed, all tight smiles and wringing hands, for working past posted hours. They are not. Quite the opposite. It makes you wonder the true reach of the man beside you. 

John ushers you past the display of tote bags in the front of the store. 

You try to protest. "But they're the most useful type here. The others are impractical."

You try to reason. "I can use it for work. For travel. See, my laptop will fit."

You want something closer to the reliable carry-all you currently own. He clicks his tongue as if you are an unruly pet, affectionately scolding. "You're not walking out of here 'til you pick something impractical. Think of it as an indulgence."

You are left to reluctantly marvel at the rows of clutches and handbags. They sit under warm, glowing lights designed to underscore the soft luster of their leather. The kind of brand to hide the price tags, you silently make estimates as you peruse. Just one could pay two month's rent.

A sales associate sidles up when you linger too long near a pinkish-gray, compact handbag. Her voice is low and bubbly, explaining the history of the silhouette and model, the leather and detailing. She shows the optional shoulder strap, threads it over your side, and insists you look in the mirror. Feels funny using a full-body mirror for an accessory, but it does make you like it more. A nicer outfit and you could pass for a real customer.

You meet John's gaze in the reflection. Comfortably settled in one of the shop's armchairs, he smiles languorously and nods.

Before you know it, John offers a shiny metal card to the associate, and you walk out of the store with a four-digit handbag. 

In the car, it's as if nothing happened. John returns to his phone and padfolio, all business, and you sit slightly dumbfounded cradling a shopping bag. Whiplash does not even begin to cover the feeling.

He likes you, has to. Men, no matter how wealthy, do not spend this amount of money on people they do not care for. It is not your experience, at least. The gift is troubling, though. What precisely does it mean? What did drinks mean? What does his requisitioning you from Kyle mean? You've seen this show before, and it never ends well.

When the car pulls onto your street, it is fuel on the fire. Of course, John has access to employee information; you try not to dwell on the fact he shouldn't use it; there are policies against that. Clearly, he is not one for rules.

When Alex opens your door, John is on the phone, looking out his window. You make a split-second decision. You gather your things, murmur a goodbye, and then climb out of the car. Locking eyes with the bodyguard, you take advantage of his friendliness and mirror his warm energy. It works. Distracted, he does not notice the shopping bag left at the foot of your seat.

But John does. He calls your name as you attempt to distance yourself from the car, stopping you in your tracks.

"Forgetting something?"

Flustered and foiled, you retrieve the shopping bag. He smiles amusedly from his seat.

"Email me the notes. See you Monday, love."

~~

"You're hiding something." 

"Jordan, please. I've barely touched my coffee."

"There's got to be more to it," Jordan whispers excitedly over the edge of your desk, ignoring your withering look. 

You do not lift your gaze from the packed, colorful calendar on the screen. "Like I told you over text and FaceTime, that's it. Mr. Price only needed me for notes for a partner meeting. He was impressed by the summary I wrote up for Kyle about Project Intercontinental."

As if summoned, a message pops up on screen. 

kgarrick - online

> Need to speak with you about meeting the technology directors.

What meeting? He's already met with them this quarter. Nevertheless, you stand and smooth your skirt. "Boss man needs me, talk later?"

The other woman huffs. "Yeah, yeah. Talk later."

You slip into Kyle's office and shut the door. "What's this about the tech directors?"

Kyle smiles, but it does not quite reach his eyes. He gestures to the padded lounge chair across his desk. "Please."

Pins and needles. This was not about the directors. 

"O…kay." You sink into the chair, back straight as a board. 

He takes a moment to lean forward on his desk, elbows resting on the surface, one hand rubbing the knuckles of the other. "I understand John took you to meet with Graves."

"Yes, I was under the impression you knew." The fear that Price possibly lied about that instantly surfaces.

"I knew, told him it was fine. I'm curious about your first impression.

So that's it. Kyle wants to know more about the new contractor. You relax a bit and recall the sportive, if not roguish American. "Oh. Well, he is certainly different. I am curious if his company's style will align with ours, given how–"

Kyle raises a hand to stop you, and his smile is almost pained. "No, sorry, I meant John."

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. Crossing your legs, you force your fingers to lace around a knee. "I see. Um, he's...Assertive."

It prompts a snort of laughter, seemingly breaking Kyle's odd nervousness. "Sorry, go on."

Pursing your lips a moment, you tread carefully. "Perhaps 'confident' is the better term," It isn't. It is kinder. "Strategic and intelligent." Strategic in how he basically used you and intelligent but clueless with office equipment. You think to tag on 'generous', but rather not be forced to explain.

Kyle chuckles, and his grin slowly returns to an uncertain curve. "Did he talk to you much?"

Yes and no. Yet, what was the correct response? 'Yes, Kyle, and he admitted to using me as the adult equivalent of a ring of keys to a toddler or monkey to gauge Mr. Graves's attentiveness. Oh, and this was after he described my clothing in detail over the phone to an unknown party. Did I mention the five thousand pound gift back at my flat?' Complete honesty was out of the question.

"He did not ignore me. We had a polite conversation."

"Did he say anything about me? Ask?"

You smirk. "Only that you gave him your blessing."

The spot of levity is lost on him. Your smirk fades.

Kyle almost looks worried. "And he…He didn't…"

Your face heats. What does he know? Does he know about drinks? The message? The handbag? The conversation teeters into minefield territory. You play dumb. Best to let him get out with it. "What?" 

"He didn't ask you to move over to his desk full-time?"

Relief floods your worried nerves, quelling the fretful thing in your chest. You understand now. Kyle doesn't want to lose his assistant. Your smile nearly splits your face. "No, he did not."

The man slumps some and chuckles. "Excellent. Had me worried. I don't think either of us could refuse if he asked, y'know."

That is a discomforting piece of knowledge.

"I still would," You reassure, lean forward, and tap the surface of his desk. "Now. Was that all? I don't know about you, but I've got work to do." 

He shakes his head. "No, but you tell me if he tries to snipe you, yeah?" 

The earnestness throws you, despite how accustomed you've grown to it during your tenure. It makes keeping this thing with Price a secret all the more difficult.

"Of course. Now. Message me when you decide on lunch, dates for the Mexico trip, and what you'd like to give me for my fifth anniversary since I know you've already forgotten."

"Shit. That's–?"

"Next Monday."

"Pick out something nice."

And you will. Just not Moynat nice.

~~

The rest of Monday keeps you hellishly occupied. Your head's above water for the first time in the day, and it's nearly quitting time. Kyle's off at his last appointment, some check-in meeting on tax season preparations, when you power off your desktop. You slip on your coat, pack your bag, and discreetly slip off to the elevators. There's time to beat the evening rush.

The elevator arrives from a higher floor and for a moment, you briefly consider diving out of view. You come face-to-face with Alex and behind him, Mr. Price. Both of their faces shift for different reasons.

"Miss," Alex drawls. 

You give the bodyguard a rigid smile, then glance at your employer. 

"Going down?"

"I can–"

Alex holds the elevator doors open when they try to close, his smile warm and clueless. "C'mon in."

Price speaks when the car starts to descend. "You're not using your new bag."

Your eyes flick to Alex's back then focus on the LED panel indicating the floor. It feels inappropriate to talk about it in front of the other man, despite his presence on the 'errand'. 

"I can't."

"Something wrong with it?"

"Yes, it's too nice."

Price chuckles and Alex's shoulders shudder in a clear attempt to suppress a laugh. 

"I fail to see how that's a problem."

"Mr. Price, while my compensation is fair," You continue carefully, still avoiding looking at him. "It is not within my budget to afford luxury brands. If I turn up to the office with that nice of a bag, all of a sudden, people would talk. And besides, it's my bag, and I decided it is not for work."

You don't miss how he ignores the first part of your answer. "What's it for, then?"

"Socializing."

Do not look at him. Oh, what you would do for the elevator to stop.

"Socializing," He repeats, elongating the word as if it's in a foreign language. "Dates?"

He has to be deliberately trying to get under your skin.

"Yes," A single word. A confirmation and a warning. 

"Go on many of those?" 

Even Alex tenses, back muscles tightening beneath his suit jacket. Your head finally snaps toward Price, who, irritatingly, wears a controlled smile.

"Yes," You answer again and push through the absurd embarrassment. "My fair share."

He hums. "Your anniversary with us is next Monday, yeah?"

The sudden change in topic does not bode well. "Yes, sir." 

"You free Friday?"

The lie is out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. "I have a date this Friday." Whatever this baffling situation is between you, it needs to stop. Should've all the way back at the malfunctioning copier. He does not need to know your 'date' is celebratory drinks with Jordan. You just need him to drop it. 

It's as if the elevator car turns into an icebox. The mirth bleeds from Price's gaze, but his smile remains. "And Saturday?"

There is a tacit warning in his tone. In the slight turn of Alex's head in your periphery. Your mouth dries, and you swallow hard.

"I'm free on Saturday."

The lights come back on in his eyes, and miraculously, the car reaches the lobby. "Wonderful to hear. Pick you up at eight."

Alex steps aside to let you out. 

"Have a good evening, miss," the bodyguard says softly as you pass before hitting the number for your office's floor to head back upstairs.

You meet eyes with Price as the doors close, and a shiver runs down your spine. It's unsettling. You can't tell if it was good or bad.

~~

Thankfully, you do not run into Mr. Price the rest of the week. You take care not to. If Kyle suspects something from your excuses to sit out on meetings, avoiding any whiffs of the CEO, he says nothing. When you leave on Friday to meet Jordan, you take the stairs all the way down to the lobby and claim exercise. She wrinkles her nose at the idea of trekking a half hour away to a pub closer to yours, but after the first two rounds, she forgets her griping. 

And after four rounds, you forget yourself. You slip up.

Giggling, you sip your gin and tonic, poking at the lime wedge. "The bartender reminds me of the place I went to with John–" 

The way Jordan's face lights up makes you try to backpedal, but it's too late. 

Her voice slurs some, part alcohol and part explosive excitement. "Waitwaitwait. John? Like capital 'J' John? Not my John? What place? When? Whatdoyoumean?!"

Through no small amount of lovable torment, she coaxes the story out. It is heavily redacted despite your inebriation, but now she knows. And she is not known for her tight-lippedness.

"Swear on your mother, you won't breathe a word."

"I swear."

"'Cause I'll tell MacTavish you steal–"

"I swear. Now. What are you going to wear for your date?"

Only then does it hit you: you know nothing about this…'date'. If it's anything like the other places you've accompanied him, it's somewhere beyond your wallet and comprehension.

Jordan might as well sit on your shoulder, the devil. "Message him. Ask. Bet it won't matter by the end of the evening."

"Shut it, I'm not gonna message him."

Yet, on the ride home in the taxi, you do. It takes a few tries, with the drunkenness making everything fuzzy and sluggish.

johnprice - invisible

Hi, what should i wear tomorrow?

It's late. You don't expect a reply. The phone nearly launches out of your hand when he swiftly messages back.

> Something nice. I liked the green dress.

The dress from the Christmas party. He remembered. Clearly, it made an impression, given his current fascination. Before you can respond, he messages again.

> Date go poorly?

> Might want to take this to text, love. Don't want to get chewed out for misuse of company resources.

He sends his personal number like it's nothing. Asks about your 'date' like it's nothing. Infuriatingly confusing man. Still, you save his contact information and switch platforms. You swear it's the gin moving your fingers, the liquid puppeteer.

Only texting because I wouldn't want to get you in trouble sir

And my date was wonderful

Were you possessed by a flirtatious spirit between the bar and cab?

> I wouldn't be the one getting into trouble.

Price is fishing for it. You oblige him.

What if I'm the trouble

It takes two, no, three minutes for him to reply. Worrying your lip, you think you've gone and royally fucked yourself now. Pushed the envelope too far, flew too close to the sun, all the turns of phrase. Then those three dots appear. You've really done it now.

> I know just what to do with you. 

[strljaem]

“it's just a contract...”

inspired by : “My Demon”

💿 : our night is more beautiful than your day, newjeans

💿 : say you love me, sam kim

It was one of those late-night board meetings. The kind where everyone wears grim faces and pretends they're still interested in the quarter's projections. You were seated at the head of the mahogany table, flipping through endless reports, nodding intermittently as your assistant whispered key details into your ear. You were the youngest CEO in the history of the company—sharp, focused, and notoriously hard to read. But tonight, you couldn't concentrate. Not because of the numbers, but because of the empty seat at the other end of the table.

Na Jaemin. The demon you'd entered into a contract marriage with. The demon who was supposed to be by your side, helping you navigate the treacherous waters of corporate politics. Yet he was nowhere to be seen.

The meeting ended, and you headed home to the penthouse apartment you'd unwillingly shared with him for the past six months. The high-rise view of the city was spectacular, but tonight, it felt hollow. His absence made you restless, uneasy. The moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the living room's minimalist decor. You loosened your tie and sank into the plush white sofa, hoping he'd walk through the door any minute.

It wasn't always like this. The contract marriage had been a strategic move—your father had struck a deal with Jaemin's clan, seeking their support for a major business deal. Neither of you had been thrilled about it. Jaemin, with his cool exterior and smug attitude, had made it clear he wasn't interested in playing house. His dark hair was styled to perfection, his sharp jawline accentuating his distant gaze. And those eyes—deep and enigmatic, like he could see right through you. A demon's eyes.

Your relationship was a constant battle of egos. Sarcasm, snide remarks, and endless teasing. Yet, there were moments when you'd catch him staring at you with an unexpected softness. Like the time you tripped over a power cable at a company event, and he caught you just before you hit the ground. He'd smirked and said, "If you wanted to fall for me, you could've just asked." But his grip on your arm was gentle, almost tender.

You'd both shared small glimpses of vulnerability, but neither of you had acknowledged it. And then, tonight, the argument happened. It was over something trivial—he'd left his shoes in the hallway, and you'd tripped over them. But it quickly escalated into a shouting match about respect, boundaries, and how neither of you wanted to be in this arrangement. He'd stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Hours passed. You'd checked your phone a dozen times, but there was no message, no call. The city buzzed with life below, but it felt distant, disconnected. You'd never admit it, but you were worried. Where could he have gone?

At 2 a.m., you heard the door creak open. You stayed perfectly still, the room cloaked in darkness. Jaemin tiptoed in, his steps barely audible on the hardwood floor. He thought you were asleep, and you could tell he was trying to be quiet, not wanting to disturb you. But you were wide awake, waiting.

You clicked on the lamp beside you, and the sudden light made him jump. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he looked like a child caught sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack.

"Where did you go?" you asked, but the words came out sharper than you'd intended. Na Jaemin stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the soft light from the hallway. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held a hint of vulnerability, something you rarely saw in him.

He froze, his usual bravado melting away. "Just out," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but his eyes darted around the room, avoiding your gaze.

"Out where?" you pressed, your arms crossed.

Jaemin stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on you. It was infuriating—he wasn't defending himself, wasn't arguing back, just staring with those deep, dark demon eyes that seemed to see straight through you. The longer he stayed silent, the angrier you became. You furrowed your eyebrows, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks.

"I don't know what your deal is," you stood and continued, unable to stop yourself, "but you can't just disappear whenever you feel like it! This is supposed to be a partnership!"

Jaemin didn't respond. He simply stood there, his posture relaxed but his eyes softened. The contrast was maddening. You knew he was listening, but his calm demeanor only fueled your anger. You threw your hands up in exasperation and turned to leave, storming past him toward the bedroom.

As you walked by, Jaemin's hand suddenly grabbed yours. It felt like time slowed down—the warmth of his touch caught you off guard. The apartment was dimly lit, with only the faint glow from the city outside filtering through the windows. Lights from the other high-rise apartments twinkled like distant stars, casting a romantic yet tense atmosphere in the room. Your hair, flowing over your shoulders, brushed against his face as he pulled you back. He grabbed you by the waist, his grip firm yet gentle.

Jaemin's eyes bore into yours, and you felt a flutter in your chest. He noticed your nervous look, then he smirked slightly, his usual cool expression softened by the intimate moment. "Are you flustered?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. “No…can you just let me go?” you said. But that didn’t affect him.

You tried to regain your composure, but his proximity made it difficult to think clearly. Your heart raced, and your hands instinctively rested on his shoulders. The way he looked at you—it was almost as if he was seeing you for the first time. His warm breath caressed your skin, and you could hear your heartbeats syncing together. He leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips were so close that you could feel the heat emanating from them.

Before you could process, he kissed you, gently at first, then with more intensity as if he was testing the waters. You stood still, unsure of how to respond, but when he pinched your waist softly, you gasped, and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth, exploring with a passion that caught you off guard. The kiss was intense, his movements smooth and confident, and you felt yourself getting lost in the moment while both your bodies were moving in sync. as if both of you were slow dancing.

You pulled away, slightly pushed him while gasping for air, and Jaemin backed off slightly, wiping his lips with his thumb. He chuckled lightly, tasting the hint of your chapstick. "That was..." he began, but you were too shocked to let him finish. What was happening? Why did it feel like this? You hit him on the arm, not too hard, but enough to make him wince. You tried to walk away, Jaemin snickered at your actions so he just followed your back. Then you ran to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

"Aigoo! Let me in!" Jaemin called from the other side of the door. "Why are you so shy? We're married, remember?", he said in a playful tone. That actually pissed you off, in a good way.

You slid down to the floor, your back against the door, and touched your lips. It was just a contract marriage, wasn't it? But why did it feel so different now? You flashbacked to the first time you'd met Jaemin, when you’d accidentally stolen his tattoo—the mark that connected him to his demonic powers. He had been furious, grabbing your wrist and demanding you return it, his eyebrows furrowed in anger, his eyes flashing with irritation. But now, those same eyes looked at you with a warmth that was completely unexpected. What had changed?

"Open the door!" Jaemin shouted, knocking persistently. "You know you liked it! Don't be like that!"

You sighed, unsure of what to make of this new dynamic between you. The kiss, the way he pulled you in, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you—all of it was a stark contrast to the cold, distant Jaemin you'd known at first. Were you falling for him? Was he falling for you?

"I'll sleep outside if you don't let me in!" he threatened, but you knew he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You whispered to yourself, "It's just a contract..." But your heart told you otherwise.

As Jaemin continued banging on the door, you wondered what the future held for both of you. Would you find a way to reconcile your differences, or was this just a fleeting moment? Either way, you knew one thing for sure: nothing would ever be the same again.

“y/n…let me in…” but you chose to ignore him.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! First of all I wanted to thank everyone who runs this blog, it's wonderfully helpful in a lot of ways, and it's nice to see so much information coming from direct sources all in one place. I have a lot of anxiety around accidentally harming people with my work, so finding such a wealth of references, opinions, resources, and discussion is very valuable to me. It gives me the confidence I need to move forward knowing that I won't get everything right, but I can avoid what I know to be harmful.

I do have a question, sorry for taking so long to get to it. I want to write a story featuring a physically disabled character from at least a semi-accurate historical lens (specifically 19th century England), but I don't want to rely on notoriously ableist doctor's accounts. That's potentially useful for understanding how the medical field understood various disabilities and the social attitudes surrounding them, but I want to know more about the day-to-day lives of actual disabled people before modern medicine/research, especially those who may not have had access to hospitals. My intent is this- I want to understand my character and her disability from a modern perspective, but within the time frame I know this character would not have access to the same information and so would approach her life differently than a person today with the same disabilities would. Do you know of any particular historians or research organizations that might have that kind of information? I apologize for the broad scope of the question, but I am very lost on where to actually start looking and any help would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for taking the time to read this ask, and for all the work you do in general, have a great day!

Hi,

Thank you for your thoughtful question.

I'll start of with the fact that disability history is painfully under-researched, particularly the further back in time you go.

Part of this is modern ableism, part of it is ableism from the past, part of this is scattered understanding of conditions in the past, part of it is that a decent number of disabilities need treatment for survival, and part of this is simply a lack of sources. There's other factors, of course, but these are all pretty relevant.

If I'm honest, I generally do my historical research in very sort of piecemeal ways and I get bits and pieces from various sources that I often lose years later, which I recommend to no one lol.

I usually end up reading scientific/historical modern articles that I go to like the third page of google to find, or try my best to find a period piece that will show me a sense of how a person with a certain condition could be treated,

However, let me point you towards some organizations that might help:

This is a page from Historic England that has a general history of disability from 1050 onwards. It's categorized in general time periods, starting with 11th-14th century and ending in the modern times. I like this resource and have used it often, and it's pretty accessible and easy to read since it's made for the general public as opposed to for researchers and historians. Historic England also has further Inclusive research, if you're interested.

The US's National Parks Service (unlikely source, I know) has a project named Telling All Americans' Stories, and has a section for disability history right here. It has a general overview, a section for places, a section for people, a section for education, and one for Franklin Delano Roosevelt's experience and impact re: polio and resulting disability. Of course, this source has more things connected to the national parks, given who is doing the research, but I still find it a pretty good source to start off with. It's also quite accessible since it's aimed at the general public and not historians or researchers.

The Minnesota State Government has a "Governor's Council on Developmental Disabilities," and this council has a general history of developmental disabilities resource right here. It's divided into pre-1950 and post-1950, but it covers a lot of ground while being pretty accessible. It's a pretty cool resource, actually. I'm pretty sure I've found relevant photographs here.

The Disability History Association was established in 2004 has a podcast and is focused on specificlly funding research of disabilities. They have a page right here with a list of recent books and articles about disability history. These are all 2016 to present and all seem to be English language. It also lists two upcoming research publications that are in progress. I haven't specifically used this for my research, but I recognize some of the articles it refers to on that second page I linked. It's entirely possible I've been on this site before without remembering, though.

All Of Us is a blog by the above DHA which seems to have multiple contributors. This one I have not used.

Inclusive Historian has a resource here on a sort of general disability history, and is aimed more towards historians themselves to use to write more effectively. I also see this as a potential tool for fiction writers, as it can be useful when it comes to combining historical accuracy (to whatever degree you want it in your fiction) with modern sensitivities for modern audiences.

Disability Social History project is a self-named newer project aiming to collect historical information about disability and disabled people. It has a resources page here as well.

The Missouri History Museum has a legacy website called Action for Access with a focus on the history of the disability rights movement. This is a narrower focus and earlier than the time period you're going to write about, but it has pictures to browse. I have not found a modern equivalent of this website. Be aware that this website might not fit accessibility standards more common today because it's a legacy website.

Anyway, sorry that this seems so broad and maybe less specific than you'd like — I still hope it helps you and anyone else needing a jumping off point to research.

– mod sparrow

[honeybeebard]

Helping You Remember (Enver Gortash x DarkUrge!Tav)

Summary// Ever since the crash Tav had been stripped of her memories, with nothing but her name and this violent urge inside her body wreaking havoc with every step she took. It was no small feat to control it, or at least tame it, and just when she thought she had gotten it under control a new foe, or an old ally, comes to remind her where she came from.

(I didn’t expect my first fic in the BG3 fandom to be about Gortash. In fact, I have several half-written projects of other characters but for whatever reason this man has recently taken a hold of me and I’m afraid I’ve sunk too deep. This was originally going to be a one-shot but it’s taken on a life of its own and will now be a multi-chapter!

This first chapter is heavy on angst but the next chapter will be better, I promise! I just imagine this is how your companions would react to the news as well as how Gortash gets his foot in the door of reclaiming you. I hope you like it! I normally write for ACOTAR so this was so much fun!) WARNINGS: Heavy angst, Mentions of past Dark Urge actions

It had been a long, painful journey to get to Baldur’s Gate but Tav had made it. Her companions had made it. Everyone was alive and mostly well, save for the tadpole in their brains, the end of the world, and the recent discovery of Tav’s family history. As they made their way to Wrym’s Rock Fortress it was the only thing her mind could focus on. Astarion, Karlach, and Wyll were all too happy to chat about being back but she couldn’t stop thinking about what she was. 

Bhaalspawn.

Parents throughout Baldur’s Gate told stories of her kind to warn their children of the dangers of the world. She felt all the sins of her kin crawling up her back, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze in fear that they would see her for who she was. A monster. It didn’t matter how hard she fought the Urge inside her… her fate seemed to be already written in the stars. How could she save herself from this? She hadn’t even realized they had made it to the doors of the fortress until Astarion gently nudged her arm, giving her a concerned look as she was torn from her thoughts. “Are you alright, darling? You’re looking a bit clammy.” His voice was smooth but she could see the worry in his eyes. He was the first one she had told when she found out, seeking comfort in his arms just as he had done back in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. They didn’t have an official title to whatever their relationship was, sometimes friends and other times lovers, but they were each other’s closest confidants. He understood her better than herself sometimes and he had assured her that whatever she was facing, he would be there to help. So it pained her to lie through her teeth as she mumbled, “Fine. Let’s just get this over with. Hopefully, we can kill two birds with one stone.” Astarion knew she was lying but didn’t press her further, his shoulders tensing slightly as he gave a curt nod and entered the building with the others. The air was buzzing with excitement as everyone awaited the coronation of Lord Gortash. His posters were everywhere, most people hailing him as a hero, but from what she had heard from Karlach he was anything but that. And especially after discovering him at Moonrise, netherstone in the gauntlet decorating his hand, she only felt that anger within her rise more at the ignorance of the city. There was something else too, like a flash of nostalgia, but it flitted from her mind before she could grasp it. Tav shook her head as they made their way up the stairs, preparing for anything as they arrived at the grand hall.

Rows of seats lined the sides as a dark red carpet decorated the ground, leading all the way up to where Duke Ravengard and Gortash stood. Wyll visibly bristled at the sight of his father, his hand steady on the edge of his blade while Karlach slowly began to grow hotter and hotter at the sight of her former friend. 

“I can practically taste his blood from here.” Karlach seethed, her fists clenching. Astarion gave Tav a worrying look, wondering if now, underneath the watchful gaze of multiple Flaming Fists and the Steel Watch, was the right time to pick a fight.

Tav gave him a reassuring smile, turning to Karlach with a solemn expression. “I know you want nothing more than to rip his heart out but here might not be the best place to do it. Let’s hear him out first.” She speaks slowly, hoping to calm the tiefling. 

“Hear him out? He speaks nothing but lies! There is nothing he could say that could be of use to us.” Karlach snarls, turning her heated eyes to her and frowning. 

“Just trust me on this, okay?” Tav pleaded. “I promise that you will be the first one to rip him limb from limb.”

She seemed to calm slightly at Tav’s reassurance, her flames dulling as she nodded once. “I’ll hold you to that, soldier.” Karlach says, following in step as the four of them begin to walk up the aisle.

Gortash is the first to spot them, his lips turning up in a smile as he spies Karlach first. “My eyes must be deceiving me! Karlach, my dear girl, come and be welcome.” His voice was dripping with arrogance, his arms spread wide in greeting. 

“I’m not your dear anything!” Karlach snaps, her hand immediately falling to her weapon. However, just as Tav tries to step in front of them, his dark eyes turn to her and widen in surprise.

“And with you, my, why it’s my favorite bhaalspawn!” He grins as he comes closer to Tav, eyeing her up and down. “I never thought I would see you again either.”

“Wait, you know each other?” Karlach frowns, turning to look at Tav with betrayal in her eyes. 

“I swear I have no memory of him Karlach. I would’ve told you.” She stresses, holding up her hands in innocence while shaking her head rapidly. 

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” Gortash says smugly, chuckling to himself. “Your memories are quite lost aren’t they? Orin told me she’d made a fool of you. And to think you two have traveled together all this time and she hadn’t the faintest idea that you were one of my nearest and dearest.”

This time it was Astarion who spoke, his eyes hard as his jaw clenched. “What do you mean nearest and dearest?” There was a sense of urgency under his tone, something that Tav felt as well as she tried desperately to remember what Gortash already knew.

The dark-haired Lord smirked, taking a deep breath as he turned back to Tav and began to tell fill in the missing puzzle pieces of her memory. “You and I initiated this plot. No one could stand against the Dead Three so, after obtaining the crown, enslaving the brain, and creating a false God to rule the masses, there was little to stand in our way.”

Tav stumbled back a step, her head throbbing and pulse racing. No, she couldn’t have. She couldn’t have formed this plot, couldn’t have worked with Gortash. It wasn’t who she was. Was it? 

“No. I would never.” She whispered, her eyes full of anger while Gortash ignored her and carried on weaving the tale. 

“In Bhaal’s name, you set your bloody dagger to cause panic in the streets, killing in the Absolute’s name,” He smiled again as if recalling a fond memory. It made her want to vomit. “It was all going well until you had vanished, Orin claiming to be the new voice of Bhaal and taking over. She, unlike you, couldn’t control herself. She made a mess of things.”

Her stomach lurched, her knees buckling as bits and pieces of her past flashed through her mind. The blood, the screams, the wicked smile of her reflection as she all but bathed in the slain bodies of the innocent. Astarion noticed her trembling, reaching out to steady her as she tried to block out everything. 

“Have you gone soft?” Gortash asked as he stepped closer to Tav, examining her guilt filled gaze with a disappointed look. “I find that hard to believe. One’s true nature will always rise to the top.”

“That is not my true nature.” She hissed through gritted teeth, rage heating her blood as she pushed out of Astarion’s grasp and walked towards the man before her. “Take it back. Tell me you’re lying.”

“I know you know the truth, Tav.” He coos as if talking to a startled babe. “I can see it in your eyes. That Urge deep within you, clawing at its cage to be unleashed. We had something great, are something great, until you were taken. I tolerated Orin, tolerated Ketheric, but I liked you. We can still finish this together.”

As he finishes his sentence one of his hands comes up to rest on her arm, an intimate gesture that sends feelings of disgust and warmth through her body. She hated this, hated him, hated how little control she felt. Once again she felt a battle in her body between the past and the present. 

“Don’t touch me.” Tav growls, pulling away from him as if she had been burned. “I want nothing to do with you, with this plot. If anything this has only solidified my plans to kill you.”

She could feel Karlach’s approval from behind her, could feel her own body tensing for a fight only to falter when Gortash barked out a harsh laugh. 

“Oh, my dear bhaalspawn, you have no choice.” His eyes were suddenly hard and his tone like ice as he gestured around him. “The quakes are a clear warning. Without all three netherstones ruling the brain, it will break free and complete the Grand Design. Your choices are to join me and rule or subject this entire city, yourself and companions included, to becoming illithids.”

All of her companions shifted uneasily, looking at Tav for guidance. She tried to run through all the scenarios, looking for an out that didn’t include digging herself further into her past self, but the choices remained the same. 

“Together though,” Gortash straightens, giving her a charming smile. “Together we can control the brain. Renew our old partnership.”

“What kind of partnership?” Tav asked cautiously, hating how weak she sounded. Astarion cleared his throat beside her, pleading with her not to do this, but she ignored him. If she was going to find another way out of this she at least needed to get all angles of the problem…and that started with hearing Gortash’s bargain. 

“Let’s discuss it somewhere more private, hm? Away from the prying eyes of both nobles and…your group.” He looked behind her distastefully. “Meet me in my office after the ceremony. Alone.”

And before she can say another word he struts back to the middle of the room, letting the Duke continue with the blasphemous ceremony. Tav immediately motions for her friends to follow her towards the back, ignoring the words of Wyll’s father as she finally takes a moment to breathe.

“You can’t possibly be considering partnering with him.” Astarion huffs. “Please tell me you aren’t that stupid.”

“Look at what he’s done to this city, to my father,” Wyll adds, crossing his arms. “An alliance with Gortash is like asking to be stabbed in the back. He cannot be trusted.” “You’re damn right he can’t be trusted!” Karlach fumes, gnashing her teeth together. “That man is worse than a devil, Tav! He’s just trying to get in your head!”

“Enough!” Tav snapped, rubbing her temples as the pounding returned. Everyone’s opinions, including Gortash’s, were starting to make her head spin. “I know this is…a lot. I can’t process it all myself-”

“What, that you and Gortash created this entire cult, this entire problem that is threatening the lives of millions of people?” Karlach’s voice was rising with each word, her flames growing by the second. “I knew you were a bhaalspawn but Bhaal’s chosen? You are half the bloody reason we are here in the first place!”

“Karlach-” Wyll tries to intervene but she brushes him off, stalking towards Tav and jamming a red hot finger in her chest.

“No, don’t Karlach me.” She snarls, glaring down at her. “Did you not hear what she has done? The acts she committed in Bhaal’s name? Amnesia or not, you all have to see how dangerous she is.”

“I’m not!” Tav protested, tears pricking her eyes as she felt their gazes on her. It was her worst fear realized. “I’m not a monster, I don’t remember doing any of those things. I would never…”

“And yet here you are, ready to make nice with the viper.” Karlach spits, standing to her full height while regarding her with revulsion. “I need time to think.” 

Before Tav can say anything or reach out to plead for forgiveness, she storms off back to the entrance. Wyll looks between the two of them, his eyes full of sadness before he simply shakes his head and follows Karlach. The only one left is Astarion who is staring at her with an unreadable expression.

“Star…” She whispers, throat tight as she tries to reach for him only to physically recoil when he moves away from her hand. It wasn’t much, just a slight sway to the side, but it was enough to make the knife in her gut twist deeper. “Please.”

“I…I need a moment.” He murmurs, bowing his head before following the same path as her companions. Tav can’t stop herself from sinking to the floor, her soul aching as she brings her knees to her chest and cries. She doesn’t care that she’s in a room full of nobles, doesn’t care that everyone is watching her finally break, she just doesn’t care anymore.

Her friends, her entire world ever since escaping that damned nautiloid, had abandoned her. They had found out who she had been and had left her here, alone. Tav wanted to hate them, wanted to curse them, and never see them again, but could she blame them?

She was part of the reason this was all happening in the first place. She had caused all this pain, all this death, in the name of her father. Even if she didn’t remember it that didn’t absolve her of the guilt. If roles were reversed, she would probably question her relationship with the person as well.

“It’s all my fault.” She whispers, pressing her palms against her eyes harshly. The tears were hot as they ran down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking. Tav was so caught up in her emotions she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching her.

It wasn’t until she felt cold, metal claws tip her chin up that she finally came to her senses, blinking up at the man who had just revealed all her immoral acts as if they were nothing. 

“My poor little bhaalspawn,” He purred, using his other hand to pull her up to stand. “All alone again.”

Tav sniffled, feeling vulnerable as he wiped a tear away with his thumb. Her entire body felt numb as he pulled her into his arms, shushing her with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Come.” He ordered. “Let me save you once more.” 

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hello!

May I request a Kinger, Jax, and Caine x reader where the reader is a classic romantic type of person. When it comes to affection, they are very touchy and kissing their s/o alot. Calling their s/o various nicknames like "dear", "my love", "sunshine"

As well as gift their s/o lots of gifts, just in general very loving and actually has a history of being not loved back. Like, when the reader gets affection back, they look hesitant and even uncomfortable even though they themselves is very affectionate.

Am I self projecting? Yes, but I do like the idea of the reader finally just explaining that even though they have no memory before their life in the Digital circus but they just know they used to have an s/o that didn't love them back so that's why they aren't used to affection themselves. Sorry it got so lengthy, I got really into it lmao Have a wonderful day/night!

Caine, Jax, and Kinger x reader who loves giving affection but doesnt like receiving

i did not have any cool ideas for a title so uh uh uhh long ass title... gonna speed run this because i gotta do some stuff tonight but i would feel bad if i only got like 2 requests done !! to the other anon that requested something (mime anon)!!) i see you, dont worry! i plan on getting to you tonight when im done with the thing!!

CAINE:

okay so i wrote kingers part first, but i think caine would follow the same sort of thing,... would reel himself back in and try to figure out whats going on. i think the only difference is that he wouldnt know exactly how gentle to be since youre his first proper relationship, as well as his first experience with love. now while kinger would be a little upset, i think caine would be genuinely angry. how dare your ex partner! youre a walking god/goddess who makes Aphrodite envious, and on top of that you have a kind heart to match. were they blind? stupid? heartless? whatever the reason, caine ensures that that lost affection is more than made up for

JAX:

i think he would use it as a point of teasing, unaware of your past and just assuming youre just shy about receiving affection. it wouldnt really be until you two actually sit down and have a talk about it, that it starts to dawn on him... but i think he wouldnt be as gentle with it as caine and kinger are.. i think, he would kind of have a "well im not your ex," thought process about it... i think it would take some time to gain a more.. sympathetic and understanding way of thinking but i think he would lay off the teasing a bit...

KINGER:

i think kinger would be over the moon with all the affection you give to him... but the thing is he himself can be very very affectionate, in fact he would rival you in terms of giving.. so this would be quite the predicament... i think he would reel back if he noticed you recoil from his actions, and just, quietly ask if theres something wrong. when you share your feelings, i think he would be fairly understanding... takes things slow, tones things down for you and tries to help ease you into it. he makes sure you know that he loves you a lot, and that he wouldnt follow the same route your ex partner did... in fact he seems quite upset about it, i mean, you are amazing, and you deserve to receive the same energy

[gojos-whatnow]

hii im from wattpad and i want to request :

Rui x reader (reader is afab), fsmut ig ?? both college students nd they both wanted to start a project but ended up.. yk 😭

HIHI WELCOME!! Honestly this ask is my entire rui sequel fic on wattpad (wink wink go read it and the prequel anyone who hasn't)

Anyway enough talking, let's just get into it ;)

⭒Synopsis: ^^

⭒Warnings: NSFW,

⭒Setting: College, so yall are anywhere from 18-22 or so

⭒Notes: AHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER TO GET OUT

"Alright, we have everything we need! I think..." You gazed over the messy pile of mechanic bits strewn across the floor, your boyfriend sitting in the middle.

"This should be all I need," he smiled up at you from the floor.

"Great! Then, let's get to work!" You hopped over onto your bed, starting to look through the brainstorming notes for just what kind of bot you'd use for this project.

That was over half an hour ago. So far, you had done nothing but add maybe 3 more things to your notes, and ramble endlessly. You suddenly stopped yourself mid-sentence, shaking your head in frustration.

"Noo, Rui, we're on another tangent..."

"Sorry, I knew this time, it just seemed like something you really enjoy talking about."

"Thank you, Sweetheart, but now's not the time to indulge my scatterbrain." You sighed, flopping back on the bed. "I still have no idea what this bot is even gonna do, let alone look like..."

"You have plenty of ideas down, I suppose it's just choosing that's the hard part."

"Are you sure the animated hologram is off the table?"

"That would take several months of research and work. You need this done by the end of the week."

You groaned and sat back up, slipping off your bed and leaning down over Rui's mess to cup his face and nuzzle his nose. "Thank goodness I have my pretty genius boy to help."

He chuckled softly, going along with your affection before standing up to stretch his legs. "I'll have you know, I didn't procrastinate on my homework this time, just to make sure it was done for when you get home."

You cooed, thanking him with a hug as he stepped out of his sea of silvers and metal. "Y'know, maybe a snack will help get us on track?"

"I don't think a snack is going to help you focus better."

"Awe, c'mon, we won't know til we try, right?" As you started walking out from your bedroom to the kitchen, you were tugged back by your shirt before the door closed in front of you.

"I know something that'll help."

"Hmn? And what would that be?"

Suddenly, you felt Rui pick you up and toss you onto your bed, jumping on you immediately after. He held himself up, hovering above you with a smirk on his face.

"If history repeats itself, this'll probably help out," he purred, before leaning down to start kissing and licking up and down your neck. You shuddered slightly.

"W-what in the world makes you think this is the solution?"

"You haven't noticed? You do much better work when you're... we'll say... relieved."

"What evidence is there of that?" You chuckled, resting your hands on his shoulders.

"I've witnessed it a time or two. Now, enough talking. That's what got us here in the first place."

You wanted to inquire some more, but refrained, instead just simply letting your breath shake with every exhale as Rui soaked your neck with growing impatience.

He wasted no time in slipping his hands under your shirt and pulling it up your body. His hands found their way to your sides, gripping and rubbing over your ribs, down to your hips. His mouth left your neck and pressed against yours, tongue slipping past your lips within seconds.

You kicked your legs up over his hips, squeezing his waist between your knees. He carefully pulled his face away from your kiss, smiling down at you darkly.

"Let's get this over with quickly, yeah? We shouldn't take too long when we have work to do."

"Yeah, you're right..."

His hands tugged your shirt all the way off, tossing it aside dismissively and going for your pants. Then his pants came off. Meanwhile, you tugged off his shirt, which he had neglected due to time. His leg pressed up between your legs so you could grind against it as your tongues licked together with hunger.

He felt over your body, squeezing roughly, grabbing at his favorite parts of you and feeling your soft, plush skin under his fingers. Fuck, were you irresistible, even with his eyes closed.

With the softest groan of frustration and impatience, he stuffed his face into your neck and shoved hastily at his all too tight pants. He sighed at the freedom once they were finally off, and paused before he made for his boxers. Rui lifted himself up and gave you a devilish look.

"Is my Darling ready for me?"

You let out a shuddering breath as his hand trailed down your stomach, dipping into your underwear and feeling across your folds. Just how easily his fingers slid told you the answer to his question. His smirk widened.

"Good."

With that, his fingers hooked into the leg holes and started tugging them down your thighs. Once they were off and discarded with all the rest of your clothing, you suddenly felt two of his fingers slide into you embarrassingly easily. You tensed, gasping, but huffed at the amused look on his face.

"I thought you said we shouldn't waste any time?"

"I wouldn't call this a waste. You aren't seriously asking me to just ram into you without a little preparation, are you?" He gave you a pouty look, to which you rolled your eyes and let him continue, stretching you out. Once he pulled his fingers out of you, sucking them clean before they wrapped around your hip, you mentally prepared yourself for what came next.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

He propped your legs up onto his hips and carefully slid into you. You let out a shaky breath as each inch slid in, filling you up how he always did. He groaned out happily, smiling as his lashes fluttered.

"Mmh, yeah... that's it." Rui sighed as he leaned down, pressing his chest against yours. His arms slipped under your shoulder blades and grabbed your shoulders. He rubbed his cheek against yours and placed a few kisses across it, grinning all the while. "I love you... Want me to start yet?"

You wiggled your hips slightly, listening to his breath hitch. Once you were fairly sure your insides had adjusted, you leaned back and relaxed, then nodded your head.

"Yeah, you can start."

"Okay, Honey," he sighed happily, then pressed his lips to yours. He started to pull back, then thrust back in slowly, breaths uneven. Your own breath was shallow as you kissed him, feeling how gentle and slow his movements were starting out. He continued at that same pace for a while, then pulled away from your lips to catch his breath as his hips began to speed up.

The feeling of his cock brushing against your inner walls and his tip hitting so deep in you gave you a wave of goosebumps, how it usually did. A few soft moans started to leave your lips as your head fell back against the pillows. Your vision was blurry with pleasure, but you could see as Rui looked over your face, his muscles tensing as a moan escaped him. He leaned back down, groaning softly as he shoved his face into the nape of your neck and started to speed up more.

It felt glorious, the pleasure making your brows furrow and eyes roll back. Your hands gripped onto his back, and with every moan of his that sounded next to your ear, you felt your insides grow hotter, until a knot started to form in your stomach. The most you could do was squeal out Rui's name, but in response, he sped up to a pace that had you wailing with pleasure.

You could feel your finale quickly approaching, but it's not like you could muster the ability to warn him, especially when his mouth met yours again and your moans mixed together. As you reached the edge of bliss, all you could manage was a frantic shove to Rui's shoulder, before your back arched and you cried out. He immediately slowed down, now back to focusing on his depth as his orgasm also neared. You clenched around him as you soaked his cock with your release, and those sweet sounds you were making made his cock more solid than stone. Every second his orgasm neared, it felt like you were driving him more and more crazy. He could just barely sense himself getting louder as he kept slamming deep into you, until his pleasure peaked and he let out a long, shuddering moan as he released inside you. You shuddered, yet another wave of goosebumps raising over your body. As his cum gushed into you, he held you tight, squeezing you with euphoria. When the feeling finally subsided, his whole body relaxed, almost going limp above you. He let out a sigh and started catching his breath at about the same pace you were.

The two of you spent a couple moments just basking in the relaxing, post-orgasmic afterglow, before Rui dropped his head back down to your shoulder, shifting slightly to get comfortable.

"Don't fall asleep," you warned with a chuckle.

"I know, I know. We still have work to do."

His words made you pause, before you groaned. "Awe, fuck."

[herejusttosufferalong]

(Re: About Joe Alwyn, Similarities with Nic, and Acquaintance with Luke Thompson)

Response to your shock about Ratty Healy : Hahaha as a swiftie myself I SIDE-EYED tay so hard when she had her rebound with him, like gurl he's nasty and disgusting with all of his past troubling behaviors no matter how sweet he might appear to you.

If you wanna know a glimpse of JoeTay relationship, it was officially started in September 2016 and ended in early April 2023.

They first met at Gigi's bday party (April 29th 2016, References: High Infidelity-Midnights, Gorgeous-Reputation, Dress-Reputation), then met gala (May 1st). She previously and was still dating Calvin Harris- long story short he was a D, she wanted to leave him. I didn't know what prevented things to go further between her and Joe but in met gala she also met Tom Hiddleston and danced together. They had a brief getaway car moment or rebound (Getaway car-Reputation), officially known to public from June to September.

Then Joe and Tay started their relationship on September 28th (Ref: September - Cover by TSwift).

2016-2017 was the hell of year for Tay because of the whole Kanye Kim drama and lies. The whole world turned their back on her and she was at the lowest point of her life. She disappeared for a year then came back with a new album Reputation released in 2017.

Albums that give us many insights about her life and love story with Joe are : Reputation 2017, Lover 2019, Folklore 2020, Evermore 2020, Midnights 2022, The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology 2024.

He had part of writing and producing some songs with Tay in Folklore, Evermore, and Midnights in the pseudonym of William Bowery.

In TTPD, songs about Joe are So long London, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart, loml, The Black Dog, How Did it End, and Peter.

I'm sad when people have to refer Joe only as Taylor Swift's Ex. He's a talented, low profile, and private actor. He's rarely active in SM. (Alwyn keeps his personal life private, which he described as a "knee-jerk response to the culture we live in". GQ labelled Alwyn a "notoriously low-key actor".)

Alongside with Paul Mescal, he is one the male leads of Sally Rooney Novel Adaptations. Paul in Normal People and Joe in Conversation with Friends. (I really would like Nic to have a project with him. Maybe another Sally Rooney adaptation would be great😭 *manifesting*)

Some of his projects are The Favourite (2018), Boy Erased (2018), Mary Queen of Scots (2018), Harriet (2019), The Last Letter from Your Lover (2021), Stars at Noon (2022), Catherine Called Birdy (2022), Conversation with Friends (2022), Kind of Kindness (2024), TBA projects: The Brutalist and Hamlet.

He is also friends with Lukey T. He ever talked about him in interview.

Similar with Nic, he is very vocal about activist/social movements and always stood on the right side of history. Nic came from her background as an Irish people and her late Dad with his humanity and military works to keep peace in middle east. Joe family also has deep connection to activism, particularly in Palestine, his late great uncle is a peace activist and patron of the Palestinian solidarity campaign. And both are private about their personal lives. But Joe is really silent and not chronically online as Nic.

I just love when Nic has so many connections and fully booked. She deserves it. And I would like the same things to happen to Luke too. They both deserve the best to not put their talent in waste. I wish my parents all the best.

DAMN ANON

Are you on his payroll????

No but seriously thank you for sharing 💜

I know nothing about the guy but I have seen multiple movies listed above with him in it

Will have to rewatch and check out some of his other work 🥃

[like-a-bantha]

Lost/Loss

Summary: Everything changed after Eriadu. Hunter becomes withdrawn, and you can't help but worry about him. You do what you can to show him you're there for him.

Pairing: Hunter/GN Reader (No Y/N, no descriptions of reader's appearance)

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, mentions of major character death

Word Count: 1.7k

AO3 | Masterlist

One week of radio silence. Our contact was supposed to get back to us five days ago with intel on Hemlock and his captives. Instead, we’ve sat around on Pabu tensely awaiting a holocall that we’re beginning to lose hope in receiving.

Phee was kind enough to offer us room in her home, and free reign of her holotable, to act as a sort of base. It’s been quieter since we were last gathered around this table. The usual boisterous laughter and interrupted rants replaced with worried silence broken every so often by a sea breeze that no longer carries the joyous sound of Omega and Lyana playing just outside. That mission, Hemlock, the Empire, took so much from us; it’s taken an incredible amount of effort from Hunter, Wrecker, and I to not allow these forces working against us to take our hope on top of it all.

Echo and Rex referred us to this contact not long ago, someone who they’d worked closely with during the war, someone they trust. I commed Echo. Hunter advised against it, said it wasn’t worth it, that all we could do now was wait. I snuck out to the Marauder to use the long distance com anyways. Of course, the conversation was brief, and he has as much information as we do. Sit tight. Waiting game. All that.

“How’re they holding up?” His voice low, even with the volume adjusted to its highest setting. He’d mentioned returning to Coruscant last time we spoke, it must be the middle of the night there. We always did have terrible sleeping schedules.

“Not well, but I mean…” I trail off, we both know the reason, we both hold some foolish hope that not saying it will make it less true, “They miss you.”

“But you don’t?” There’s that sass, that glint of normalcy I’ve both craved and feared these past two months.

A laugh escapes me as if on instinct, it sounds foreign, “Nah, thought I’d never shake you. So clingy.”

“You’re one to talk, you do realize it’s 0100 here?”

This, our shared brand of humor and sarcasm, too, feels so distant to me now. Slowly, it comes back to me, “Oh, I’m so sorry, did I wake you up? Were you sleeping?” 

“Like a baby.” His warm chuckle crackles through the com speaker, and mine through his. The silence that follows is warm, easing his way into broaching the question, “I take it he’s distancing himself again?”

I sigh, a deep sigh only brought about by reality, “I get it, I really do — and, honestly as bad as it sounds, I wish I didn’t because this kriffing hurts — but withdrawing like this, I don’t know why he can’t see it’s only making the feeling worse.”

“Have you told him that?”

“‘Course. He just says something about how we can’t give up and stares at the holotable. I don’t want to give up, I can’t give up, I just hate seeing him like this.” 

Echo hums, but just as he begins to respond, static and unintelligible voices play loudly through the speaker. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go. Good luck.”

I nod, wiping at my misty eyes as I reach for the switch to end the transmission, “Be safe. Talk soon.”

Silence. Mournful, somber silence echoes through the lonely hull of the once lively ship. Everywhere my gaze falls sits a piece of their history, our history; one of Tech’s unfinished projects, a drawing of the ship Omega had called extra credit, Echo’s favorite brand of instant caf. Unable to withstand the weight of these memories, I decide to take my leave and the silence follows me back to the cottage.

I return to a rare sight: an empty house. No Wrecker sitting at the kitchen counter disassembling and reassembling explosives. No Phee asking him to take it outside. No Hunter hovering over the holotable awaiting a call. No com to tell me to hurry back, mustn’t have been an emergency.

I make my way over to the holotable, fingertips gliding across its rounded edge as I approach Hunter’s usual seat. When I pull out the chair, I’m met with a sight that would normally make me laugh. His shredded scarf that he’s grown so attached to, destroyed on our last mission to gather intel, along with his prized bandana that appears to have shrunken in the wash. The best I can muster is a bemused huff, taking the bundle of abused fabric into my arms as I sit. Suddenly, I’m struck with an idea. It could be a very stupid idea, of course, but a very good idea doesn’t always equate to a very smart idea. It’s a perspective thing and seeing as the only perspective available at the moment is my own, I figure I may as well get to it before more perspectives show up.

After careful work, I neatly fold remaining fabric and stash it in my pack with my tools; as the designated mender of the group, I know firsthand there is no such thing as too many fabric patches. Returning to the table, finished product tucked delicately in my vest pocket, approaching voices grow louder and louder.

“I’m telling you, it looks good! Stop fussing, leave it… yeah, like that,” Phee’s voice nears the door, and I’m sure I hear Hunter grumbling about something. The door whooshes open and my eyes widen with surprise. When I meet Phee’s gaze, she seems to silently plead for backup, “You’re back! What do you think?”

She gestures to an unamused Hunter, visibly fighting the urge to fidget with the hat he’s wearing. It doesn’t look bad on him, very few things would, but he doesn’t exactly look comfortable. Unwilling to hold the spotlight any longer, he grabs the floppy brim and removes it from his head, tossing the garment onto the table as he takes the seat next to me. Unable to help myself, I lean forward with a smile and run a hand through his slightly disheveled hair.

“That bad, huh?” Phee sighs, Wrecker following closely behind as she heads for the kitchen.

“I liked it,” The glee still empty from his voice, even at something that would’ve garnered one of his trademark laughs a few months ago.

“Me, too, big guy.” Phee sets a crate of groceries on the countertop. Wrecker’s taken to cooking. Though he’s been much quieter these days, Wrecker seems like himself again when he’s preparing a meal.

Hunter��s gaze is locked on the table, silences between us were never tense like this. When he speaks, he doesn’t look at me. “How’s Echo.”

It isn’t a question, more of a remark, maybe even an I told you so if I really read into it. I answer it like a question anyway, “Good, but no word from the contact.”

He hums. The silence that follows deems the told you so unnecessary.

I reach into my vest pocket. Now’s as good a time as any. “I made you something.”

He hums again, gaze flicking away from the table for half a second in question. Right now, that’s probably the best I’ll get. I place an open palm on the table before him. After a moment's hesitation he rests his hand atop mine, palm up, and I look to his eyes as I delicately drape a band of maroon fabric with thin gold stripes across his fingers.

Hunter’s expression is unreadable, regarding the gift silently. I bite my tongue, attempting to hold in any preemptive apologies in fear that I may have overstepped. My flat expression shifts only when I see his eyes begin to well up, before the first sorry can push past the floodgates he turns to me with the faintest smile. A smile I haven’t seen in too long. His grip tightens around the bandana as he rushes to pull me into a tight hug. Instantly, my arms wrap around him, tears forming in my own eyes. “I love it,” his voice low, he places a kiss on my temple, “thank you.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do more.” My voice comes out a whisper, all of the words I hold back seem louder. “We’re going to get them back, Hunter.”

“Not without a fight.” He says grimly, holding me tighter, as if he’ll lose me the second he lets go.

“I know,” I pull back to look into his eyes, my hand coming up to cup his tattooed cheek, “but we fight as a team. We can’t keep bottling all of this up, we need to take care of each other, ourselves.”

Hunter rests his forehead against mine as he sighs, “You’re right.”

“I know. How’re you feeling?” He shuts his eyes as my thumb gently ghosts back and forth over his cheekbone.

He thinks for a moment before releasing me, opening his palm to look at the bandana in his hand. “Lost,” he turns the garment over, examining the back, “Loss. I couldn’t protect them. You, Wrecker, Phee, you’re all I’ve got now and I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you either.”

“Tech protected us. Omega, too. I think it’s cruel to put that duty solely on yourself, Hunter. It’s an impossible weight to carry on your own,” A tear falls from my eye, quickly sliding down my cheek before landing on my pant leg, “please, let me carry some.”

“Giving it away doesn’t sound easy, either.” His own tears threaten to spill over, I hope I never get used to the subtle, somber shake in his voice, “But I’d like to try.”

When he looks up with a sad, weary smile, I can’t help but lean forward and place a small kiss to his lips. I begin to withdraw, but Hunter’s palm cups my cheek and pulls me back in for a longer, gentler and tearful kiss. This time, the silence that follows is peaceful as he rests his forehead against mine once more.

His loose hair falls around his face and I accidentally pull a few strands into my mouth as I inhale. He chuckles a bit as I pull away, a sound I’ve missed dearly. I can’t help but let out a small laugh of my own, reaching up to once again run a hand through his curls, “It’s gotten so long.”

Hunter smiles, turning the bandana over once more before presenting it to me, “Do the honors?”

With a smile and a nod, I take the cloth from his grasp, delicately wrapping the fabric around his head and tying a single knot.

“It’s perfect,” He places a soft kiss to my knuckles, taking my hand in his, “thank you.”

The holotable chirps. Incoming transmission.

A/N: Someone pointed out Hunter's hair looks longer, plus the new bandana, I just had to get this out of my system. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think, comments mean the world to me! <3

[waitmyturtles]

Turtles Catches Up With Old GMMTV: He’s Coming To Me Edition

[What’s going on here? After joining Tumblr and discovering Thai BLs through KinnPorsche in 2022, I began watching GMMTV’s new offerings -- and realized that I had a lot of history to catch up on, to appreciate the more recent works that I was delving into. From tropes to BL frameworks, what we’re watching now hails from somewhere, and I’m learning about Thai BL's history through what I’m calling the Old GMMTV Challenge (OGMMTVC). Starting with recommendations from @absolutebl on their post regarding how GMMTV is correcting for its mistakes with its shows today, I’ve made an expansive list to get me through a condensed history of essential/classic/significant Thai BLs produced by GMMTV and many other BL studios. My watchlist, pasted below, lists what I’ve watched and what’s upcoming, along with the reviews I’ve written so far. Today, I’ll cover He’s Coming To Me, how this show centers Thai-Chinese/Asian culture, shipper culture, and the brilliance of Ohm Pawat and Singto Prachaya. THIS IS A LONG POST.]

I’m gonna have to hold myself down for this one. He’s Coming To Me. This kind of show. HCTM is ABSOLUTELY the reason why I created this project watchlist in the first place -- to watch this kind of show. This show cements my utter respect and passion for the work of Aof Noppharnach. This guy’s work needs to be taught in schools. 

I’m like -- after days of finishing HCTM, and furiously and hungrily rewatching episodes, I am still shaking my damn head at this show. I knew it was great, but y’all didn’t prepare me for ITS GREATNESS. (And to be watching it the same week as Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale of Thousand Stars -- it’s been an Aof-themed moment, and I’m a touch overwhelmed by EVERYTHING I’ve absorbed.)

I am actually contemplating -- I’m seriously contemplating this! -- if I like this show better than either Bad Buddy or Moonlight Chicken. I know, I KNOW. I’m not talking about the story, the structure, the filming, the writing and direction. I’m literally just talking about my own damn preferences. I might just LIKE this show better, for what it held, what it told, and how the show showed so much respect for its story.

And there’s a lot I want to touch on in this piece, so as usual, a little list for myself:

1) Where this show came from vis à vis the watchlist, and what I think it meant by way of previous BLs 2) The Asianness of the show and how it transcended the usual BL tropes 3) A celebration of Aof’s favorite themes, and how cool it was to see them being born in HCTM (including the theme of young/first love that I haven’t seen before in his work) 4) A hopefully brief and not angry reflection on shipper culture, homophobia, Ohm, Singto, and how that affected HCTM in the annals of Thai BL

Without having seen his My Dear Loser work, or his screenwriting for Gay OK Bangkok 1 and 2 (which I plan to watch after the OGMMTVC is over, in preparation for Only Friends): HCTM is the first full Aof vehicle to enter my watchlist. So just quickly looking behind me: I’ve had shows like Love Sick, SOTUS, Together With Me, Love By Chance -- shows that began to toe the line, then define the line, then sharpen the line of what BL was. As I wrote in my Love By Chance review last week, I felt that LBC was the first show on my watchlist that felt like a true derivative BL, complete with tropes that had been born during Love Sick and SOTUS, and sharpened over those first few years of the Thai BL industry growing.

So it’s 2019 now, and we get He’s Coming To Me, both written and directed by P’Aof. Tropes? No tropes. What a flip from LBC.

Instead, we get an absolute head-first dive into many of the themes that we see Aof continued to play with in his later works. For me, HCTM evoked Moonlight Chicken the most, especially for what I call the Asianness of this show -- Aof’s unabashed focus on Asian cultural themes and threads that create structure and movement for his characters.

Before I get ahead of myself, I want to thank @telomeke very deeply for chatting with me about how I could learn more about Thai-Chinese culture, because themes and behaviors related to Thai-Chinese demographics are clearly common in Thai BLs, and I’ve felt that it behooved me to learn more about the culture (or as much as I can from the internet) as I continue to review these shows. But @telomeke reminded me that a lot of the assimilation of Chinese cultures and populations mirror the cultural mixing that took and takes place in Malaysia, where a part of my family hails and where I’ve spent a good portion of my life. So I’m relieved that I actually understand more about Thai-Chinese culture than I gave myself credit for, BUT -- that’s only a caveat, because I still have so much more to learn.

I say this because I’m using this word, “Asianness,” to describe in part at least one impression I have about HCTM, which is taking seriously the theme of ghosts and what role ghosts play in a human’s life. We see very often in Japanese doramas the practice of praying at an altar honoring past ancestors -- ancestor culture and worship are big in Japan, and the doramas don’t shy away from that. We see temple trips all the time in doramas and BL doramas -- especially during New Year’s. (Our Dining Table being just the most recent one.) We see Buddhist temple culture in Thai BLs often -- in KinnPorsche, in Bed Friend, in Big Dragon, and very especially in Moonlight Chicken.

I think what I want to point out here, if I can say it eloquently, is that a Western viewer might find more notable in an Asian drama, than in a Western show, the inclusion of practices of spirituality. In the West, spirituality might be indicated by a trip to a church, or prayer. But it strikes me -- and maybe this is because I’m a first-generation Asian-American, my eyes open to ALL the differences between my culture and America -- that Asian dramas incorporate the practices of spirituality more seamlessly, because practices like lighting an incense stick and giving a quick prayer before breakfast is more culturally embedded in places like Japan or Thailand. The practice is there, and you just do it, because that’s what you do for your culture. (I often see a stick of incense lit and burning next to a plate of fruits in the early mornings when I jog past Thai restaurants. It’s just -- what you do.)

It struck me, and I still wonder about it, if Western viewers may have thought that Thun was going overboard with his interest in Thai-Chinese Buddhist practices, including being so diligent about offering alms to the passing monks, going to the temple for merits, and keeping electric incense sticks on him to make sure that Med wouldn’t disappear. An auntie on Whatsapp might cock a curious eyebrow, but also regard Thun as a “good boy” who’s devoted to the temple.

In any case, this struck me particularly deeply, because I think, if P’Aof had been a little more abashed, that he could have toned this theme down -- the theme of the everyday practice of Buddhism.

And he didn’t. He didn’t tone it down. He leveraged it as THE major theme of the drama: that ghosts exist in Thai-Chinese-Buddhist culture and practice, and that some people can communicate with ghosts, including both Thun and his mom. 

The ABSOLUTELY wonderful @telomeke​ affirmed this for me, writing so eloquently: “Underlying HCTM is an unshakeable belief in the spirit world, and it's also a given ... for a majority of people in SE Asia and Thailand in particular that the spiritual realm is as much a part of the everyday world as much as the physical reality of what we can see and touch.”

The reason why I’m hammering on this in particular is because it categorizes the show as one that is utterly representative of A SPECIFIC CULTURE -- just like Moonlight Chicken, with its commentaries on spiritual and economic practices of the particular place of Pattaya. @telomeke​, I know you have specific feelings about the ending of HCTM, which I’ll get to in a moment, but I think for me, the ending of HCTM is deeply satisfying BECAUSE of this connection to Thai-Buddhist culture, what it says about ghosts and spirits, and how they continue to be incorporated in the ongoing life of a young Thai adult like Thun. AND, I appreciated that the ending skirted, just slightly, what we might have expected about someone losing their lover (à la Eternal Yesterday). Thun only temporarily lost Med... but Med still doesn’t quite exist. And I think there’s layers there that I’ll hopefully get to teasing out, either here or in a future post.

Going back to BL tropes and structures... I mean, HCTM was just like, yo, I’m gonna play in another ball field. I’ll have more thoughts on this after I watch Dark Blue Kiss, but at least, as far as I’m aware WITHOUT having seen DBK yet, that it’s not until late 2021 that P’Aof begins playing in the BL sandbox, takes his toy dump truck, and turns the tropes upside down in Bad Buddy.

And I see, in HCTM, P’Aof laying the groundwork for the themes that he DOES love, that I happen to love, and that get repeated in his oeuvre:

- The theme of community: the need for young and old queer individuals to interact with other queer individuals (most recently depicted in OS2/BBS/ATOTS) - The theme of NOSTALGIA: Med having never left his moment 20 years prior, listening to the same music of Thun’s mom’s generation (nostalgia being most recently depicted in Moonlight Chicken) - The parable of 1,000 stars: what it means to be the last star on which to make a wish (most recently depicted in ATOTS and OS2/ATOTS) - The anguish of coming out: Thun, Uncle Jim, Li Ming, Pran coming out to Dissaya -- all heavy, all impactful, all different stories that carry heaviness and their own meaning to each of these incredible characters

And there’s so many more. But what I really want to do, to get up on the rooftops that P’Aof loves so much, and YELL TO THE AIR is:

THE GENIUS, THE SHEER GENIUS, of linking these themes -- many of these as ASIAN themes! -- to specific issues that face the queer community, such as coming out, and being invisible (like a ghost) in a majority cishet society. 

GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH. Oh, the pain in my heart. This is exactly what I wrote in my notes while rewatching the show: “This is the first time we get Big Cultural Themes outside of issues with the queer community -- and Aof LINKS the Big Cultural Themes WITH queer issues -- the brilliance of it all.” Just like he did subsequently in Moonlight Chicken.

What was so beautiful to me about He’s Coming To Me -- and how it was channeled with GENIUS TALENT AND GRACE from Ohm and Singto -- is that, unlike Moonlight Chicken, this was the story of one young man who needed to sort out his feelings. And there was another young man, a young man who was killed, who HAD begun realizing his feelings, but was trapped by station (from a rich family) and role (the only son in a family). Med even said, it would have been impossible for him to come out as the only son of his family.

As far as we knew, Med had only come out to Kwan, Thun’s mom, before he died. Med may have very well been attracted to other men before he died -- but we see him VISCERALLY attracted to Thun, and vice versa, and that burst of first love for both young men, IN THE CONTEXT OF Thun’s spiritual practice and abilities to BRING Med to “life” in Thun’s life -- I mean. I’m shaking my head. It’s a parable for manifesting what you want in your life, and making it happen. 

And yet, what HCTM also touches on, is that many times, you DON’T get what you want in life. Med WILL disappear one day. He will be reborn. It wasn’t his time at the moment of the ending, but it will be his time one day. Thun only has Med temporarily -- we don’t see the WHEN of that. 

BUT. I would posit (and @telomeke​ and @wen-kexing-apologist​, I wonder what you think of this), à la OS2/Bad Buddy, that P’Aof is OKAY with us not seeing this, and not necessarily considering the ending of HCTM to be a happy ending for Thun and Med. Because he knows -- and he knows that his Asian viewers know -- that Med WILL leave Thun one day. Not yet, though. Thun still has a little time to grow wiser and older and stronger. But Med WILL disappear one day. He had been hinting at it all throughout every episode of the series. He will have to leave Thun’s side. 

I think the way the show ended was graceful. It leaves that door open for Med to find his rebirth, because was a good kid and deserves to be reborn in a happy life. It allows Thun time to grow through his first love -- first love being such an important theme to this show. It’s COMPASSIONATE to Thun, very similar to me to the kind of compassion that P’Aof showed to Uncle Jim throughout Moonlight Chicken, and just now in OS2/ATOTS to Phupha. But it’s also rooted in the SPIRITUAL REALITY that Med WILL leave -- just not yet. And P’Aof is saying, I didn’t need to show y’all, because y’all Asians already know, Med’s outta here one day. 

The other thing to note about the ending is that P’Aof had already shown a tremendous amount of Thun’s pain. Thun wasn’t necessarily HAPPY in this show. He was curious, exploring, and loyal to Med. While Thun is clearly a young man who DEMONSTRATES happiness -- MY GAWD, the 19-year-old smile of Ohm Pawat!!! -- I wouldn’t say that he was a happy child. He lost his dad young. He was SCARED as hell for potentially letting his mom down. And: he had a lot of secrets to keep. The secret of being gay. The secret of being able to see and talk to ghosts.

“He’s coming to me.” Thun comes out, twice. He’s gay, and can see ghosts. 

Even though others can’t see ghosts, I can. Even though others aren’t gay, I’m gay. Mom: I’m different. 

When Thun sobs for Med while holding onto the jar of stars in his bedroom. When Thun spins around, looking for Med on the rooftop in episode five. When Thun calls for Med and Med isn’t there. Thun is alone. He is alone with his secrets, and Med is not there -- he is NOT coming to Thun in those moments -- and Thun is left alone, different and unique, as he has been his whole life.

I’d posit that that uniqueness is particularly difficult to deal with in collectivist Asian societies as in Thailand -- which led, in part, to Thun not knowing the language of his feelings as he came out to Med in episode five on the rooftop, and being SCARED, to his bones, to come out to his friends and his mom in episode six.

For 2019: I see this show as being ahead of its time, way ahead of its time. I have lots of theories as to why this show isn’t considered a more striking part of the canon of Thai BLs, and the incredible @bengiyo​ and @shortpplfedup​ have helped me to understand the magnitude of the impact that P’Aof made in breaking up the KristSingto ship to pair Singto with Ohm -- and how the fan shippers came for HCTM, and pushed GMMTV to hide this show for years before finally releasing it on YouTube with subs.

But besides that fucking bullshit, which I’ll return to in a second, I also want to note that maybe -- considering that we have more years now, after 2019, to consider the massive trove of Thai BLs that exist now -- the skirting of the still-nascent BL tropes framework was too early for many when this show came out. As I’ve demonstrated here in this piece -- this show’s complicated. There’s A LOT A LOT. I mean, I’m in love with P’Aof’s work because I LIKE HAVING A LOT in my shows. But you go a flip side and you get Together With Me and MaxTul with love bites and throaty kisses (in the words of Seinfeld, not that there’s anything wrong with that). 

HCTM is heavy. It carried a lot that wasn’t overtly sexual by nature, like many BLs at that moment in 2019 and right beforehand (randy Perth, randy MaxTul, etc.).

I understand from @bengiyo​ and @shortpplfedup​ that, because Ohm needed to move on from Make It Right and the OhmToey ship due to Toey leaving BL after MIR, and Ohm joining forces with Singto, that Ohm received massive criticism, and continues to be a subject of criticism and bullying today (some of which I’ve seen on this site). And that Singto was also the subject of online bullying as well.

With all of this in mind -- Ohm, Singto, and the unique nature of HCTM -- I’m continuing to mull over the issue of homophobia in shipper culture. If BLs are reduced down SIMPLY to the pairings that lead these shows -- and that there’s an EXPECTATION that the shows NEED to depict certain acts of queer sexuality, SPECIFICALLY among actors who identify as straight -- that seems straight up homophobic to me.

I can see HCTM being too ahead of its time to begin shifting that paradigm. I’ll see what Dark Blue Kiss does next in the Aof oeuvre from this purview, but what I want to get at is:

IT IS CRIMINAL THAT HCTM ISN’T MORE WIDELY KNOWN. This show is affecting me literally at the same level as Bad Buddy and Moonlight Chicken.

What HCTM HELD by way of Asian culture and spirituality, by the RESPECT IT HAD for the experience of first young queer love, by LEVERAGING the ABSOLUTE BRILLIANCE OF ACTING OF OHM AND SINGTO (omg, AND SINE INTHIRA, are you kidding me?!?!?), and, oh shit, by BRINGING THAT ALL TOGETHER? To TELL a story of queerness and spirituality in Thailand?

Fuck. I’m just shaking my head. If it’s too much for the shipper folk, then... okay, go off. Leave the good stuff to me and the fam that GETS IT — the fam that gets that what we’re watching is ART, and not intended vessels for fantasy and fetish.

Last notes. I just want to say that in my SOTUS reviews, that I theorized that Singto would be brilliant when paired with a really good actor, and HCTM proved it to me. If it weren’t for this fucking shipper bullshit, I would have liked to see Singto and Ohm paired again.

Ohm is probably the most prevalent actor on my Thai BL list. I get that he was nicknamed “the king of BL,” and that he’s been the target of bias for that label and his predilection for being utterly brilliant in telling queer stories (thank you to @bengiyo​ and @miscellar​ for helping to fill me in on this).

Let me just say that this man is a goddamn MASTER. @shortpplfedup​ nailed it in her Ohm appreciation post.  @absolutebl summarizes why Ohm is singular in this BL space. Shippers who want to bully the mans, bring him down or whatever, spread misinformation, I want to say, angrily and rudely -- fuck off, and be afraid of talent in y’alls lives. 

With the tangle of homophobia and cyberbullying that seem to have an overstated impact on the Thai BL industry, it is a damn shame that Ohm doesn’t get more of his flowers, because he makes shows better. I mean: this guy OWNS ROOFTOPS. Episode five of HCTM?! Episode five of Bad Buddy?! Get this guy on a rooftop and he will SLAY. Pair him with people -- Singto? Nanon? Perth? OHM MAKES THESE GUYS BETTER ACTORS than they ever were previously.

I say the following, in all honesty, with a touch of disdain, of condescension, and sadness, for the people who don’t watch this show because it doesn’t have pectorals or hot make-out sessions, and because it features actors that many fans might want to bully:

HCTM does not have the reputation that it deserves. It’s not just a good show. It’s an HONORABLE show. For me, it pays homage to Asian cultures and practices that I relate to. It features a story of queer revelations and love that is written with passion and respect. It features probably the best acting I’ve seen so far on my watchlist. And it features two actors who were willing to subvert expectations, at the risk of their own careers, to tell this story, as written and directed by one of of the most brilliant, subversive, experimental, and creative filmmakers I’ve ever watched in Aof Noppharnach.

I want and need BL fans to appreciate Asian culture more in these shows. And I want and need BL fans to appreciate human behavior development as well. Because P’Aof is telling stories out here, stories that can enrich our lives. I wrote in my Bad Buddy thesis that BBS will be required viewing for my children. HCTM joins that list. HCTM makes me want to be a better Asian mother, and to make a world for my children where the experience of first love and coming out can be regarded not with pain, but with celebration and joy.

[It’s going to take me a while to get over HCTM, but I’ve already begun Dark Blue Kiss, and am having a FABULOUS time with it. That opening theme! P’Aof and JOCKS! Yum. Another frappé, please.

Here’s the updated list! Much to the chagrin of everyone-I-know-on-Tumblr (I’M SORRY @shortpplfedup​), I’m adding a VERY fast rewatch of ATOTS. Blame it on Our Skyy 2. I’ll want to watch ATOTS after the cinematic affair that is ITSAY, and after I’ve seen P’Aof do his thing on two existing series in DBK/Kiss and Still 2gether. ATOTS was my very first P’Aof series, and I want to rewatch it in chronology.

Here we go. As always, I’ll take recs, comments, etc.!

1) Love Sick and Love Sick 2 (2014 and 2015) (review here) 2) Make It Right (2016) (review here) 3) SOTUS (2016-2017) (review here) 4) Make It Right 2 (2017) (review here) 5) Together With Me (2017) (review here) 6) SOTUS S/Our Skyy x SOTUS (2017-2018) (review here) 7) Love By Chance (2018) (review here) 8) Kiss Me Again: PeteKao cuts (2018) 9) He’s Coming To Me (2019)  10) Dark Blue Kiss (2019) and Our Skyy x Kiss Me Again (2018) (watching) 11) TharnType (2019) 12) Senior Secret Love: Puppy Honey (BL cuts) (2016 and 2017) (I’m watching this out of order just to get familiar with OffGun before Theory of Love -- will likely not review) 13) Theory of Love (2019) 14) Dew the Movie (2019) (not an official part of the OGMMTVC watchlist, but I want to watch this in chronological order with everything else) 15) Until We Meet Again (2019-2020) 16) 2gether (2020) 17) Still 2gether (2020) 18) I Told Sunset About You (2020) 19) Manner of Death (2020-2021) (not a true BL, but a MaxTul queer/gay romance set within a genre-based show that likely influenced Not Me and KinnPorsche) 20) A Tale of Thousand Stars (2021) (review here) 21) A Tale of Thousand Stars (2021) OGMMTVC Fastest Rewatch Known To Humankind For The Sake Of Rewatching Our Skyy 2 x BBS x ATOTS 22) Lovely Writer (2021) 23) I Promised You the Moon (2021) 24) Not Me (2021-2022) 25) Bad Buddy (2021-2022) (thesis here) 26) Bad Buddy (2021-2022) and Our Skyy 2 x BBS x ATOTS (2023) OGMMTVC Rewatch 27) Secret Crush On You (2022) [watching for Cheewin’s trajectory of studying queer joy from Make It Right (high school), to SCOY (college), to Bed Friend (working adults)] 28) KinnPorsche (2022) (tag here) 29) The Eclipse (2022) (tag here) 30) My School President (2022-2023) 31) Moonlight Chicken (2023) (tag here) 32) Bed Friend (2023) (tag here) (Cheewin’s latest show, depicting a queer joy journey among working adults)]