#because I meant the main manipulator but yeah it did make it sound like I was talking about Othello

[pointlesscandies]

Babe’s books, themes, and foreshadowing in THK

The Taming of the Shrew:

We can learn a lot from Babe's books. He started the series while reading the taming of the shrew: a clear callout because thk loosely follows its setup. That framing is still there, but we've moved out of the scope of the story told in the taming of the shrew. And so Babe has started a new book.

By episode 6 he's switched to reading Othello.

If you aren't familiar with the play. This is not good news.

Othello:

Othello is about deception, manipulation, and sowing distrust. It's about how easily people can turn on each other based off what they believe to be true: even when it's not the truth.

We're already seeing these themes play out in episode 6.

In Othello, a character manages to turn everyone against each other by preying on their insecurities and weaknesses. It's what the detective and Lily have been doing and so far it's working.

Othello does not have a happy ending.

But if Style, Fadel, Kant, and Bison are able to look past what they believe to be true and stand together despite the manipulation from all sides, they can start a new story.

[dootmoon]

Some thoughts on Ex Astris

Okay so the TL;DR is: Go play it if you're someone who is mainly motivated by gameplay, it's one of the most enjoyable games i've played in like 10 years (im not kidding). the story is not bad, but it's very poorly told and leaves a lot to be desired. I should also warn that i'll probably spoil a couple of things, mainly on the gameplay side (because yes, I do believe some encounters are better if you dont know the gimmick).

Where do I even start, I only watched like 2 trailers before playting, i had 0 idea of what i was getting into, all i really knew about the game was that it was a full game release by the AK guys and that it was a turn based rpg. I legitimately bought it out of morbid curiosity, I was not expecting to find my favorite jrpg in a literal decade.

I'll go over what I liked the most and then explain the couple of issues I have with the game, it might sound like i loved it (which i did) but it's far from perfect and i think there's room for improvement. I think the combat is the real deal in this title, for those unfamiliar with it: it's a classic turn based jrpg but it has layers. The main 3 mechanics that make it stand out from other games is that each turn you have AP (action points) which limit what you can do each turn, however you can directly manipulate them with a combo system that gives you back AP. The second one is a parry system, during the enemy turn you can directly parry their attacks, you have 2 colors for parrying, both colors have different properties and there's certain attacks that can only be parried with the respective color. And lastly, theres a stagger bar, similar to FFXIII or posture bar in sekiro, although i think it's more akin to stagger in FFXIII. Once you break said bar you can enter hyper time for a few seconds where you have unlimited AP so you can combo them for massive damage. The combo system is very enjoyable, you will be blindly experimenting your combos for optimal damage each time you unlock new moves in the skill trees. Theres a very satisfying feeling to landing a big combo on an enemy that feels like it was entirely something you came up with. This sadly comes with a downside, once you figure out your big damage combos, there's not much of a reason to try anything different. It doesnt mean it stops being enjoyable but this is a wall most of games with combo systems have. Now the parry system, while it's fun, it sadly makes the game too easy. Sure theres enemies that will mix their timings to throw you off and a couple of unparriable attacks. But really, if you get good there's no reason to ever get hit. "But what about the unblockables?" yeah about that... Theres really just 3 enemies in the game that had them, and 2 of them were bosses, which you get a hard counter to the unblockable in the first boss that has it. I wish the game had more ways to work around you to make it more challenging. The only time the game REALLY tries to fuck you up is the final boss (this is a good thing) however it was still too easy. She really just makes the screen black and white and makes you parry based on the icon, then she makes you parry based on the color of the attack. This was sick and i wish there were more moments like this in the game. Now the dungeons were great, they feel like they belong in an older 3d zelda game. Sadly they dont get too crazy on the gimmicks, they were just box puzzles where you have to move them in the correct spots or point lasers to certain switches. Apparently this game has plans for DLCs so if theres something i wish upon to get explored more it would be this in particular. The rest of the game is the towns and the sidequests inside them, they're very usual stuff for a jrpg so you know what to expect, i cant elaborate much on it. Overall I think the game is meant to be replayed, by the end you're only able to fully build 3 characters out of 5 party members, sidequests expire and there's a bunch of stuff to mess around to make a playthrough different from the last one. The game changes a lot when you already know how it works or what really happens in the story.

Now the elephant in the room, the story: Yeah it's kinda just there, it's very poorly told. However it's HG and i can tell there was a lot of thought put into the wold building, it's very well made. It's just a shame that i could barely care about anything happening in it, even though I was kinda invested by the final hours i dont think that excuses the really bad storytelling. However starting my second playthrough is when I noticed it was indeed meant to be replayed. There's a bunch of stuff that feels so incredibly cryptic or really make no sense, once you go over it already having context it all makes sense and you just go like "oooh so that was they were talking about". I'm not excusing bad writing though, this is bad, but at least the story feels better on a second playthrough. Anyways, i'm kinda upset this was a mobile game, maybe if it wasnt, 10 people would've played it instead of just 5. I cant stress enough how this is a phone game that is way better than most of modern jrpgs in the market. it's like the devs went back and asked themselves what was the main appeal of the genre and what they thought made them fun to them and made an entire game around it. This is probably gonna be the biggest surprise of the entire year for me and i'm gonna have brainrot about this game for a while.

[emmacantread]

First review!!

A Dark and Drowning Tide by Allison Saft

A Dark and Drowning Tide is a fantasy novel that came out on September of 2024 and even though I’d been waiting to read it for a very long time, I only got around to it now.

The story follows Lorelei, a folklorist, on an expedition funded by the king of her country, who wants to find a fabled magical river that is said to grant immense power. However, when Lorelei’s mentor and leader of the expedition is murdered, she has to take charge and find out who did it while also finding the river for the king.

This book was a big disapointment for me, which sucks because I really looked forward to reading it. None of it was particularly interesting or unique, and I found the final political message very troubling.

Spoilers ahead!

It started out well, the setting up of the world and the mistery were good, but everything kept worsening the longer I read. None of the characters or their relationships with each other were particularly interesting. Even though the main couple had some good romantic moments, the book is marketed as having a “rivals to lovers” relationship, and I thought the reason why Lorelei hated Sylvia (the love interest) didn’t make much sense at all, and it turned out to be one of those situations where the love interest was actually in love with the mc the whole time and the mc just didn’t notice, which made it kind of ridiculous.

Also, the magic system was very vague and unoriginal. Some characters have the ability to manipulate water because of a magical element found in it called aether, but it’s never explained whether this power is genetic or if it can show up in anybody, and not much is mentioned on how people learn to use it and develop different techniques for it. The magical creatures in the world were interesting, but mostly taken from real life folklore, so not very creative.

The mistery also wasn’t very intriguing to me, and a lot of the decisions taken in the story didn’t make a lot of sense.

What made me dislike the book the most though, is the message it seems to end with. The kingdom of the story is an empire that has conquered a lot of neighboring kingdoms, and the crew accompanying Lorelai is made up of the five heirs of these same countries that now have become part of the king’s reign. Throughout the story it is emphazised that the king isn’t a good person and that colonized people are greatly affected by the empire and at risk of losing their cultures and religions. Lorelei is part of a religious group which is meant to represent real life Jewish people, and it is stated several times that the king doesn’t care about her people being killed or used as scapegoats, and will only keep her close as long as she’s useful. Through the first half of the book, it looked to me like they were going to go against the king’s wishes and maybe plot agaisnt him but they don’t do that at any point. Lorelei and Sylvia find the river, give him its power so he can continue fueling his empire and start working for him like they don’t mind their people being colonized and discriminated against.

Furthermore, the two characters that want to sabotage the expedition and use the power of the river to defeat the king and liberate their countries are written as the villains and treated as such by the main characters.

By the end of the story it looked like the message of it was “yeah colonization is kinda bad but we should just leave it as it is because violence is never the answer.” I don’t know if this was the author’s intention or if she didn’t realize what the ending sounded like.

Overall, i thought the book was boring and unoriginal, on top of having a very questionable political message.

Rated, I would probably give it a 2/10

Thanks for reading if you got this far into my rambling!!

Emma 🎃

[andydrysdalerogers]

The Type You Save ~ T W O

Detective James Barnes hasn't seen the love of his life in three years. Since the night she was almost caught stealing a painting. He knows it was her and she disappeared leaving him confused and heart broken.

Alexandra Richards never expected to be pulled back into her old life two years after she left it. She had found love and a home and was happy. Until a note blackmailed her to take one last job. Three years later she walked into the last person she expected to see in San Francisco. Because he lived in New York right?

They always put family before everything. And he would do anything to get his family back. Because she's the type you save.

TW: mob, death, smut, rape intentions, angst, guns, family abandonment, dub-con, manipulation

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Previous : O N E

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Six years before… 

Alex Richards never had a care in the world.  She was good at what she did.  Never been caught, never been accused. She was going to keep it that way.   She skipped into the boss’s office, not having to wait for him to allow her to enter.  Once of the perks of being Christian Grey’s girl.  She waltzes in as he was on the phone and sat in his lap, her usual spot.  

“I understand that Walker, but it needs to be handled. Just take care of it.  I have an important package to open.” Christian slammed the phone down and ran his hands over Alex’s legs.  “Hello pet.”  

“Mr. Grey.”  

Christian growled at her response.  “How many times do I have to say don’t call me that in the office?”  

“Sorry baby.”  Alex planted a kiss behind his ear, knowing it would calm him.  He hummed his enjoyment.  

“What do you want Alexandra?” 

“I’m bored.  Thought you might need me.” She shrugged.  

“I do need someone to pick up a necklace from a lax client.  Think you can handle it?”  

“Sure.  Anything else?”  

“Yeah, Walker is going with you.  He needs to speak to the client.”  

Alex crinkled her nose.  “Walker really?  He’s so, I don’t know, rude.”  

Christian sighed.  “Baby, just get the necklace.” He flashed her the picture of the diamond necklace. “It’s in a safe in the office.  John will be look out for you.”  

She rolled her eyes.  “Fine.  But only because you asked nicely.”  She planted a searing kiss on him, leaving him breathless.  “We’ll finish that when I get back,” she whispered against his lips.  She got up.  

He adjusted his pants.  “Looking forward to it, pet.  Be safe. And don’t…” 

“Get caught. I know baby.  I got it.”  She winked and walked back to her separate office.  She closed the door and changed into her all-black suit, skin tight to allow her free range while she worked.  She put on her mask and flipped the googles to the top of her head, making it look like she had kitten ears.  She attached her tools to her waist as a knock on the door sounded.  “Come in!” 

John Walker or the Hand as he was called within the mob walked in, smiling as if he was the boss.  “You ready, Kitty?”  

“Don’t call me that.”  Alex’s code name was the Cat.  Fitting seeing as she was a cat burglar.  It really came from how her googles sat in her dark brown hair.  “Almost.  Just finishing up.”  She brushed out her hair to remove any loose hairs and then tied it back. Not getting caught meant taking every precaution to not leave evidence behind.  

She grabbed her gloves and faced Walker again.  “What’s with the smile?” 

“Nothing.  Just ready to be done tonight.  Have a date.” 

“Poor girl.”  

“Hey fuck you, Alex.”  

“Christian already does that Walker, don’t be jealous.”  She started to walk to her bike.  

“Nuh uh. We’re taking my car.”  He grabbed Alex and pushed her to his black Camero.  

“So boring Walker.  At least Nate rides next to me.”  

“And Nate is a kiss ass. He’s just trying to get in your pants.”  Walker smirked.  “If he flirted any harder, the Boss will eat him alive.”  He waved his hand.  “Tell the Snake to slither away.”  

“He’s my best friend Walker so mind your manners.”  

Walker shook her head.  “Whatever you say Kitty.”  

Alex grounded her teeth.  Dealing with Walker always tested her limits but she would do anything for Christian.  They made it to a wealthy home outside of Pittsburgh.  Walker pulled to the back of the house to stay hidden of the main road.  

“Ok, our client should be home in about 20 minutes.  That gives you 15.  What’s your plan Kitty?” 

“The safe is where?” 

“Office, second floor.”  

“Well, I think I will just use the front.”  

Walker gave her an exasperated look. “There are cameras on the front door.”  

“I didn’t say I was using the door.”  She smirked, flipped her googles down and exited the car.  Walker followed to keep looked and watched as Alex shot a rope up to the roof, out of the eye of the camera.  She climbed swiftly to an open window on the third floor. She slid in, not moving a thing.  Walker was impressed with how quick and smooth she did that.  There was a reason she handled the tight spot robberies.  

Alex walked smoothly through the home, not a sound made, her googles in night mode.  The house was quiet, unsettling her but she thrived on the tension. She thought back to her start. Christian only asked for her help so that they would do what’s right.  If her brother could help, so could she.  She found the office and started to work on cracking the safe.  It was pretty standard until she heard a door open and voices floating up to her.  She hid in the cupboard until the voices passed. She made it to the safe and got the necklace out, leaving the safe locked again as if she had never been there.  She made her way back out when she heard Walker’s voice.  “You shouldn’t have crossed Mr. Grey, Mr. Williams.” 

Alex crept down to see Walker by the front door, holding a gun to his side as he spoke to Mr. Williams.  

“I understand.  Please I don’t want to make a scene.  My son is just in the other room. I’ll pay anything.”  

“You should have thought of that when making a deal with Mr. Grey.”  Alex watching in horror as Walker raised his weapon and shot Mr. Williams in his head.  She covered her mouth so she wouldn’t let out her scream.  The little boy yelled for his father as Walker simply wiped the blood of his face and walked back out.  

Alex wasn’t going to get in the car with him.  She climbed down on the other side of the house and into the garage.  The man had a dirt bike, no plates; she hotwired it and took off.  She made it back to the warehouse before Walker and went to Christian.  

Christian looked at her impassively and reached out, motioning for the necklace.  “Thank you pet.”  

“Why have me steal it if you were going to murder him?”  

Christian stopped and stood up in front of her. She tried to keep her stance as he stalked towards her. “Don’t ask questions Alexandra.” He grabbed her by her hair and held her in place. “I run my business as I see fit. If you don’t like it, go, leave.  See if you can survive on your own.”  He let her go, shaking her in the process.  

Five years before… 

It’s been a year since the incident with Christian and Walker.  Alexandra ended her relationship with Christian and he treated her like one of his lieutenants.  She did jobs, avoided Christian and John as much as possible.  She stayed close to Nate, code name the Snake.   He could blend in anywhere, slithering his way into places with just a smile.  They were on the roof, looking at the stars.  

“You’re thinking of leaving, aren’t you?” he asked one day 

You turned your head towards him. “How did you know?” 

“The way you’re acting.  You’ve been giving equipment to some newbies, training that chick in your methods.  You’re leaving.”  

“I have to.  I just can’t keep doing this when I know that Christian is murdering innocent people.  We had a code, you know.  No kids, no women, no innocents.”  

“When are you planning to leave?” 

“Dunno.  Pittsburgh has been great, but I need to get lost in another city.” She could feel her eyes stinging. “I don’t want to leave you.”  

“Hey I understand.  You gotta take care of yourself and staying here with Grey and Walker isn’t taking care of yourself.”  Nate stoke her face.  “When?” 

“Tonight.  After Chris and John go to sleep.  I parked my bike in the woods with a bag.”  

“Do you need anything?” 

“Nah.  Got a couple of grand in cash.  I’ll get a job, go straight.” She looked back up towards the sky.  “This will be good right?” 

“The Boss will be pissed.  You keep your head down alright?” 

“Thanks Nate.”  

It was quick, the getaway.  She slipped from her room, leaving a note, promising to never talk about Christian or the mob ever.  Alex made her way to the only large city she knew she could get lost in.  It took a few hours but finally she saw the cityscape coming into view. New York.  

Four and Half years before… 

“Alex, these plates!” 

“Got it Joe!”  Alex scurried to pick up the hot plates and make it to the tables.  Going straight was not easy.  But Alex was happy.  Happy that she was one her own, earning money, studying to pass her exam with Bishop Security.  

 It was early Saturday morning, the club rush finally gone, the early morning cops making their way in to the diner. The regulars greeted her while she served their coffees.  They were friendly, generous tippers, the rookies hoping to catch her eye.  She smiled but declined, not ready to be involved yet.  Until he came in.  

James Barnes was a new detective to the 107th precinct. He had only been with them for a few months along with his best friend Steve Rogers.  He had heard that Joe’s had the best food and the best coffee in the neighborhood.  Having finally gotten an early shift, they made their way down to the dinner.  

“Buck, all I’m saying is, you need to not be so intense sometimes.  The guys will warm up to you.” 

“I just feel like the rookies disrespect me.”  

“They don’t.  It’s in your head.  They can’t see the rod in your arm so why bring more attention to it.”  

James hated to be reminded of the rod.  One accident, a stupid one at that, caused him to have the titanium rod and four screws into his left arm. Took a year away from the force and nine months of physical therapy but he made it.  He got to be a detective in the NYPD.  He rolled his shoulder. “Fine Steve, whatever you say.” They slid into a booth.  

“Anything I can get you boys?” he heard as he looked up.  His jaw fell slightly as he took in the dark-haired beauty in front of him. “C-coffee please.”  

“Coming right up.”  Alex never looked at the guys but could already tell they were from the precinct.  She grabbed a couple of mugs and poured the inky black drink.  She headed back.  “Here ya go,” as she set them down and was hit with the most gorgeous blue eyes she had ever seen.  “I, umm, sorry, did you want to order anything?”  

The blond took her attention.  “Yeah, scrambled eggs, bacon, toast please.”  

“Sure.  And for you?” She turned back to the brunette. He was gorgeous as sin, dark with just enough scruff that she knew it would feel good. His suit was tailored perfectly to his shoulders, dark blue with a crisp white shirt and black tie.  

“Same as my partner,” he managed to answer while trying not to obviously check her out.  

“Let me get your orders going.  Holler if you need anything.”  She tried to walk away calmly and not look back at the man.  Her partner this morning, Sandy, had no problems checking out the detectives.  

“Ooo, new ones this morning,” she said as she flicked her eyes over them.  “Did ya get a name?” 

“I got their order.  Didn’t get a name yet,” Alex said, trying to breathe again.  

“Well, they are yummy, and the brunette hasn’t stopped staring at you.”  

“Shut up Sandy, no he isn’t.”  

“Well, you can take the brunette and I’ll take the yummy blonde.” She licked her lips.  “Go get more details.”  She pushed the coffee pot at Alex.  

“Fine, fine.”  Alex walked back over.  “Refills?” 

“Thanks,” the blonde said. “Alex, is it?” He read her name tag.  

“Yeah, Alex or Alexandra, but I don’t go by that unless my momma is mad at me.” She smiled at her joke which got a chuckle from the pair.   

Steve looked at James to try and get him to talk.  When James remained frozen, Steve subtly shook his head.  “I’m Steve and this is my partner and best friend James.” 

“Nice to meet you both.  You work in the 107th?”  

“Yeah, just transferred as detectives.  You work here long?” 

“Just a few months, moved from Pittsburgh.”  Alex turned when she heard Joe yelling for her.  “Excuse me fellas.”  She left and Steve smacked James in the arm.   

“What is wrong with you, Buck?  Beautiful girl making conversation and you’re just sitting here like an idiot.”  

“Oh god,” James lowered his head onto the table.  “I just didn’t know what to say.  She’s gorgeous and…” he shut up as Alex came back with their plate.  

“Here you go, eggs, bacon toast.  Let me know if you need anything.”  She turned to walk away when she felt a hand on your arm.  Alex turned to see James touching her.   

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.  It’s just, you took my breath away.” He offered a crooked smile that made Alex weak in your knees.  “I’m James.”   

“Alex.  It’s nice to meet you.”  

“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”  She flushed and smiled. “I wanted to ask and not be disrespectful, but could I have your number?  Maybe we could grab a coffee or a drink?” 

Alex hesitated, her criminal instincts taking over for a second, but she shook it from herself.  “Sure.”  She took a receipt slip and wrote out her number, handing the slip to him.   

“Thanks doll.” He folded it and slipped it into his pocket. “I’ll call when my shift is over.”  

“No problem.”  She flashed him a smile.  “But don’t call me doll.” She walked away, stunning him.   

He sat back down and looked at Steve who had his mouth wide open.  “What?” 

“Where the hell did that come from?  I haven’t seen you like this since Dorothy.”  

“Yeah well, I guess it takes the right girl to bring it outta me.”  James smiles and dug into his food. “Eat punk, before it gets cold.”  

“Whatever jerk.”  Steve looked back at Alex and Sandy.  “Think you could help me with her friend?” 

“Let me get though the first date man.  She may hate my ass.”  

“Doubt it but sure whatever.”  

As promised James called as soon as he was out.  Alex happened to be at home, curled up on her couch, drinking wine.  “Hello?” 

Is this Alex? 

“Who’s calling?” 

It’s James, from the diner.  

“Oh, hi.”  

Hi, is this a bad time? 

“No, no, just hanging on my couch. How was work?” 

Not too bad, not as much crime as usual which was nice.  

She could hear him smile through the phone.  “That’s good.”  

Yeah.  He cleared his throat, so listen, a drink, tomorrow? 

“Sure, I’d love to.”  

McHenry’s at 8? 

“Perfect. So, talk tomorrow?” 

Well, maybe we could talk now?  Seeing how I just got home, and Steve is hogging the shower.  

Alex giggled.   “Partners, best friends, Roommates.  Something you need to tell me, Detective?” 

Only that his punk ass needs a girlfriend.  This got a laugh from Alex.  

They spent an hour on the phone, just talking about whatever came up.  He was a local, growing up in Brooklyn with a sister. He and Steve had been best friends from elementary school.  Alex told him about growing up in San Diego and moving east for school.  She didn’t mention that she moved to New York to get away from her past.  Seemed like too heavy a topic for a first phone call.  

The drinks the next night lasted until dawn the next morning.  When James finally walked Alex home, he asked for permission before kissing her sweetly. She leaned into it, his kiss nothing like Christian’s.   

“Can I see you again?” 

“Yes.  Tonight?” 

“Absolutely doll.”  

“Don’t call me doll.” 

They were happy for a year and a half.  Until Christian Grey came knocking on her door and rocked her world on its axis.  

NEXT

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

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@amiquette

[theabstruseanon]

I'm so tired and I made the mistake of wading into 🎲2️⃣0️⃣ discourse posts so dont expect the following to make much sense LOL

I do get the narrative critiques of it not feeling like the themes of rage/interrogating rage/countering rage are being engaged with on a sliding scale from effectively to at all (idk if said interrogation of rage mechanically was hinged on only the rage tokens but thematically yeah I do get the critique re ep19 there).

For example it's like on one hand I did like how quickly they shut porter down because yeah his ideology is the kind that sounds justified on paper but then in praxis all he's doing is selfish destruction. On the other I really wish they had a philosophy-off with him about one of the core central themes of the season LOL. Also navigating the fandom balance between [it's interesting mechanically that trg fight was so one sided as commentary on how trg cut corners while still 'acting entitled' (tho tbf. This is really only kippelilly)] and [god I wish the fight had more juice or narrative payoff because of the role trg were set up to play as rivals and foils who gave into rage].

Re trg, Im just musing on how it feels like the banality of 'evil' is actually applying to them at this point. They were manipulated teens who were unfairly forced to accept a horrifying cosmic deal. Theyre characters who are selfish and jealous and willing to hurt others and gave in to these base emotions for personal gain which is the aforementioned banality. Their emotions are being heightened by the rage.... We're pretty sure? Again we only really actually see this in action with kpl, which is unfortunate and I think one of the main reasons why this is such a hot bed LOL (that BC they lacked on screen substance ppl are filling in the gaps with stronger narrative hc's that they're now attached to which makes sense. Fanon Buddy you will always be legendary to me LOL).

Trg really are in a strange narrative position to me too BC like ppl have pointed out even despite the bad rolls it wasn't for lack of trying that the players tried to engage with them earlier on before switching focus BC of a combination of bad rolls and the NPCs being rp'ed as hostile/uninterested. It's like how much of a role (not just plot wise but mainly thematically wise) were they actually supposed to play. So significant yet insignificant unfort.

But regarding the themes of rage yeah, it's been kinda all over the place to me narratively. I think the start of the end was when the players were like. Won over by Porter's teaching for a while like 'wow he did make sense' msmsmsm like noooooo 😂. The rage thing is so pervasive yet also feels so disconnected often which yeah improv hard to juggle themes and u can't edit things for clarity and adherence of narrative but overall I do wish they had more time to engage with this overarching season theme. It's certainly no TUC American dream for me.

I want to say that the diff btw Tbk rage and the general 'rage bad' is that we're meant to see Tbk rage as being protective, but that's just me projecting a layer of meaning on it 😂. I'm not as broken up about how the narrative theme feels kinda weak but I do see where this critique is coming from. It's like, on the meta narrative level it feels disconnected/unsatisfying that the rage of trg is narratively punished but the rage of Tbk is so far narratively neutral or rewarded when the theme specifically is /rage/ regardless of who has it, regardless of whether there is dnd combat going on or not, and BC trg were set up to be foils to tbk. The fundamental basis of the critique is different between the people using in-verse explanations and the ppl making observations about the overarching meta narrative. I know I reblogged posts that counter the critique (well mainly focusing on trg discourse) but personal enjoyment aside yeah. Things I would edit if this was a script LOL

The final thing is the perennial critique of the violence inherent to dnd and the more academic literary critiques of the fetishisization/glorification of violence but to that I am taking off my critical analysis hat because I like dumb shounen action violence in stories sorry for being a bad leftist 😔 (big neon sign that says: I am being tongue in cheek). I get that it's coming up a lot again esp for this season cause it's the "we should self reflect on the nature of rage" season but yeah.

[snowieluna]

The Discord I'm most active in decided to add a poetry channel. So that got me looking back through some old posts on my main. Poems and stream of consciousness and things tagged "love" that are old and even from before I married my ex.

In response to the last reblog: I probably reblogged it in anger. Because how dare he not choose me. And I guess I kind of touched on this recently, that I was most mad that I lost him as a friend. That "husband" was kind of label that I felt "might as well" about. "This might as well happen. It's expected."

And yeah the wedding was exciting, but to me, it almost felt more like a celebration of the time we had spent as friends. Like that slideshow I made. It had so many photos involving (our) (old) group of friends, (our) families. Because I had appreciation for all of them, and the memories we had made as a group.

But weddings are supposed to be ultimately about the couple, right? We had photos and cute stuff, but I barely remember anything we said in the vows. They felt almost like an afterthought. And that's what I'd do with cards, right? I'd say what I thought I was supposed to, and I thought I believed it enough. I cared, but I had to make it more "romantic" or it wouldn't be enough.

And getting back to the reblog. I thought I was choosing him. He was a good friend who I ended up in a relationship with, and I made all these other friendships through. I was content enough until he'd bring up what he needed more of. More talking, more effort, more care. And I didn't get it because I didn't care enough about what he wanted because my needs were mostly met. That sucks. I sucked. He wanted me to choose him as my most important person, but I never understood how I could ever do that. Because I cared about loads of people a lot and he had the shiny special label. Didn't that count?

It doesn't. It didn't. Because we didn't match like puzzle pieces from the clay. Because it was fun being friends and experimenting and hanging out, but I couldn't love him how he needed. I was choosing him as a friend, but I still wasn't even that great of a friend for him. (And I guess to her, too.)

You can have good intentions, but if you still hurt the other person, you still messed up. And I didn't always have good intentions. Sometimes I played around with him because it was interesting to see what would happen. I would do something I knew he didn't like. I'd say something I knew would hurt. See how much you can fuck around until they break, then cry because oops I didn't mean to go that far.

I know sometimes I intentionally did that shit. And sometimes it just happened. Like looking back, I really was manipulative at times without even realizing it. (This is what I wonder about, with possible diagnoses.) I would push enough almost as a test to see if that would be the thing to make him leave. Because I was always thinking I wasn't good enough, and "You deserve better than me," and "I'm so fucked up. How do you even like me?" But be terrified of losing everything. Losing him as a friend I thought meant losing everyone else, too.

I guess that's sort of happening? And I'm processing, but relieved since overall, it's a learning experience.

I'm realizing and accepting that I'm not a perfect friend. There's that weird back and forth between "depression me" that would think I'm completely horrible and "semi-arrogant me" that goes "You're fine. It's everyone else that's the problem." And then there's the me that's trying to be realistic. People are flawed and that includes me, and it isn't world ending. I can't bounce completely to the "You're shit and don't deserve anyone" side when I get criticism because that just puts the focus back on me. Oh hey, narcissism.

I don't keep in touch as much as I should, but I get mad at others for doing the same thing. I'm not always great at focusing on what others are saying. Whether it's because of external distractions (sounds, movement) or internal (what do I say next?, I'm hungry, this is boring but I should be polite, is that person over there thinking badly of us?, do I smell?, I'm so tired, oh wait that's interesting, ooo I want to hold onto this info, hey I have something to add, is it relevant still?, look for a pause in the conversation and check.) I'm forgetful. I get overly self-conscious, or just stop caring. (Is that what masking is? Worrying so much about if I'm doing the right thing?)

(Is that why it feels so comfortable with you? Because I really don't feel like I have to overthink when we're together, and when I do, you help ground me. It's like that YOI line: You meet me where I am. To me, it feels like the kind of love we each have is enough both ways. I think you agree? But if I'm wrong, tell me.)

Folks in my old group who still want to interact, cool. I'm fine with surface level fun, but I kind of have a guard up. Because at the end of the day, I am The Bad Guy to some of them now, and that's something I've gotta just accept and stop trying to make myself the victim, now that I'm more aware of that tendency. I wasn't great to him or her at times, and neither were they to me. He isn't the AH, she isn't the AH, and I'm not the AH. ESH in the grand scheme of things. But if she's got to make me the AH in her story, so be it, I guess. I don't know where I am with him. I'm hoping it's accepting we both were kind of shitty together.

Going through all this, I guess I worry about making the same mistakes again. I know I'm selfish. ...and my brain started spiraling for sec. Stop that. Trying to be a flawed but "good" leaning person is hard.

Okay done dwelling on this. I've been rambling for a while.

[abbysreverie]

Just saw this film today and I’m so happy that I did!

Just wanna share a short backstory of how I discovered this movie. And you’ll definitely gonna find this hilarious and weird. So I just got bored yesterday, and I wanna watch something but couldn’t figure out myself what I wanted to watch…. So I thought of a bright idea since I couldn’t decide of a genre or something. I thought, why not look for a movie where one of the main characters has the same name as me (Abby), and so here we are! It was either this film or Let Me In, but since I’ve already seen Let Me In 7 or 8 years ago, I decided to opt for Life Itself instead. I was actually hesitant at first because it gave me an impression that it’ll just be about life and will only get boring halfway. Thankfully, I did not allow myself to think of it that way and gave it a chance. Can I just say that before I even watched this film, I am completely unaware of its story, I just checked the trailer yeah sure, but I tried so hard to refrain myself from reading the synopsis and even reviews from people who’ve seen it to avoid some great spoilers. And it actually helped!

As cheesy as it sounds, I will have to say this: Life Itself took me to an emotional roller coaster ride. The turn of events—the shocking self execution (sorry this is lowkey a spoiler), the plot (which was really amazing) did actually made me appreciate life in how the way it is right now. We’re so invested in making our lives perfect but really, no one knows what would happen next, right? Not your best friend, your dad, your mom and even yourself. Which is why I understood their concept (from Abby’s thesis) that life itself could really be the greatest unreliable narrator of our life!

The concept about life was not the only thing that turned me on in this movie, it’s also the way they portrayed that there are still things in life that are really meant to happen (fate/destiny), and that we cannot simply call them “coincidence”. You see, it brings us back to the idea that that’s how life really works, and that no one can ever control or manipulate their future, even the present. It’s all natural. It’s simply life.

Finally, I love how profound this film is, it may not have the best cinematography in the world of cinema, but the literary and storyline of this film is what made me appreciate it more, and not just as a viewer, but it really gave a huge impact on me literally in a personal level. And when I let out the word “PERSONAL” I mean it and it really changed how I see my life. Guuurl, this is kinda deep. It’s really weird when I find myself say serious stuff like this haha.

Final Verdict: 8/10

Life Itself (2018)

Director - Dan Fogelman, Cinematography - Brett Pawlak

"Abby, I'm waiting for the right moment cause when I ask you out, there's not gonna be any turning back for me. I'm not gonna date anybody else for the rest of my life. I'm not gonna love anybody else for the rest of my life. I'm not gonna really care about anything else for the rest of my life. I'm waiting for the right moment, Abby 'cause when I ask you out, it's gonna be the most important moment of my life. And I just wanna make sure that I get it right."

[twiceasfrustrating]

Excuse me, I read my ask in your archive and I'm sorry I wasn't clear. I meant Mammon lived with his child and raised them, he was the one who told his child he only has only dead sister and the brothers were the one who asked about Mammon. Mammon ran away from home and the brothers just find out Mammon didn't wan't want them to be a part of his new life. I'm sorry

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Brothers, Main Character

Additional Tags: angst(?), fluff, fluff turns into angst, GN!MC (they/them)

Summary: The exchange student gets to talking about their family.

A/N: oops! Now that I reread the request, yeah that makes more sense. I don’t know why my brian read it the way it did. I assume because I often work on requests really late at night and I must have been tired that day.

Word Count: 959

Of course Mammon ran away. His brothers didn't respect him. No demons took him seriously. He was the second born, yet everyone treated him like he wasn't even family. So, yeah, he decided to get out while the getting was good. It wasn't like anyone noticed. Being absent for a few years isn't that big of a deal for beings that live longer than even the stars. By the time his absence finally started to concern the other brothers, all traces of him had vanished and they didn't know where to look. He was gone.

Many years later, Diavolo started the exchange program and invited a human to the Devildom. It was a very rocky start to say the least. They had to win over the demon brothers entirely on their own; a difficult job but made slightly easier with Belphegor's manipulative help. 

It was actually a casual conversation at dinner one day (after the weird time shenanigans) that started to tip them off. It was the first time everyone had really sat down together to get to know one another in earnest. 

At that point, the exchange student had of course learned about Lilith. They knew about the fall. They had gotten through Belphie's more homicidal tendencies. Lucifer had even made a pact with them. All that was left was to finish out the exchange year.

"You know," they laughed, "I'm glad I came here. My friends are never going to believe this."

"Aren't we your friends?" Beel asked with confusion.

"I meant my friends back home. Besides, I think you guys are more like family after that mess. Speaking of, my folks are going to flip when I tell them." They picked up their demonus and gunned the entire glass; it was practically juice to them, unfortunately. "I am not looking forward to the lecture Dad is going to give me. He was already upset I decided to do this in the first place."

"I don't believe you've ever spoken of your family before," Lucifer said with interest.

"Yeah, well, it's not like it really ever came up." They shrugged.

"On a scale of one to Lucifer, how strict is he?" Belphie laughed even as Lucifer glared at him.

"Pffft, not at all. Mom is the strict one. Dad likes to dance and play cards. That's why it's scary when he's the one giving the lecture. Actually, he's usually the one getting lectured. He's got a bad gambling habit and Mom has never tolerated it." That's why they kept separate finances. Even so, he always found a way to spoil them and their mom rotten. If they didn't know better they'd think their dad was in the Mafia.

"Sounds lame," Leviathan complained, but there was a twinge of sadness in his voice; as if he was recalling a distant memory. 

"Hey! Don't make fun of my dad. He could kick your butt."

"We're demons," Belphie reminded them.

"And my dad is the strongest person I know."

"You know us."

"I know what I said."

"Your dad sounds," Satan hesitated, "interesting."

Beel grumbled, "He sounds familiar."

Beel wasn't the only one to think their dad sounded very similar to someone else they knew. It was strange how many traits aligned with their lost brother.

"Do you have a photo of your parents by chance?" Lucifer finally asked, hoping he and his brothers were just imagining things.

They did. They had a few, in fact. It was important to them that they kept family photos close since their actual parents couldn't be there with them.

When they pulled out the collection of photos and displayed them on the table, the brothers couldn't believe their eyes. That was definitely Mammon. He didn't look any different than the day he left, except he looked happy. There was a photo of him holding them on his shoulders when they were much younger, one where they were in a matching outfit to their parents, and a much older one where it was him actually reading a book. It was like Mammon was living an entirely different life.

"Isn't he the coolest?" They loved their dad.

No one knew what to say. It'd been so long since they'd seen him, and their first clue about him was coming from his child; their nibling.

The only one who could think to say anything was Lucifer. "Your family looks happy."

"Well, yeah. Mom and Dad always did their best for me."

"By chance do you have any other family?" He had to know what Mammon had said about them.

"Hmm… I don't have any siblings."

"What about other family?"

"Uhh… I have an uncle on Mom's side and two cousins. They're both way younger than me though so we never really hung out."

"...and Ma- may I ask about your father?"

"Oh, umm," they paused to consider their words carefully. "I guess there's Aunt El? Dad said her grave was far away though, so we never visited. He said grandpa was a jerk though."

"Is that all?"

"Dad… always said Mom and I were the only family he had left." 

Of course they were. Mammon never regretted falling with his brothers, but he regretted sticking around for as long as he did. They never respected him. they never saw him as anything more than a failure. Leaving was all he could do. He wasn't sure how, but he found a more loving family with humans that didn't even know who he was. Somehow, they thought the world of him. He didn't need to go back. He didn't need to drag his new family into his old one.

And his kid didn't need to know they were walking straight into the lion's den with all their uncles.

[shipskicksandgiggles]

Title: Written in the Roses

Pairing: Harley Keener x Peter Parker

Summary: When he is running away from an abusive ex-boyfriend, Peter Parker ends up in Rose Hill, Tennessee. As he tries to build a new life for himself, he meets someone new. Someone who can help him heal.

Warnings: past abusive relations, past manipulation, anxiety

A/N: this is the valentine's day fic that decided it needed to be longer than it was supposed to be. based on the song Mr. Rose by Spence Hill

AO3 Link

~~~

The day Peter moved to Tennessee, he felt like he could breathe for the first time in years.

He loved New York with all his heart, it would always be his home. He was raised there, with his parents, in May’s apartment, alongside Ned and MJ and-

It took months of convincing from May and Tony to make him believe he wasn’t running. Of course he wasn’t running, this was for the best.

He didn’t need New York anymore, and he would be better off literally anywhere else.

So he left. Tony was ready to help him set up anywhere he wanted, so Peter threw a dart at a map and it landed in Tennessee.

No one expected Peter Parker to go to Tennessee. It was perfect.

His plan was foolproof. Change his number, get a new computer, ditch his clothes, adopt a new style, take an untraceable car, and drive until he was far enough from New York that he couldn’t be followed. Not even Tony or May knew exactly where he was going, so no one could track him through them either.

Don’t take major highways, follow all the rules of the road, avoid security cameras, and start taking random turns when he thought he was being followed, turning into police stations if he got too paranoid.

He stepped out of his car at one of those roadside pull-offs and just stared at the mountains. The air was clearer than he ever imagined.

Finally, he let himself drop to his knees and cry. He was free.

~~~

Rose Hill was a small town, but not small enough that he couldn’t find an apartment. It was above an abandoned storefront, which was really a shame because it was cute. The whole street was. A coffee shop, post office, craft store, a diner, a bar, and a flower shop, all spaced out along the main road.

Living in New York meant there were too many things to count in a couple blocks. This was practically quaint.

Still, it felt like there was something missing.

It occurred to him one night when he was just about to go to bed.

“Kid? Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just. You know how bookstores always seem to just exist? Like no one knows where they come from but all the books are well loved, and there’s always a cat?”

“Sure, what about them?”

“How do you think they really start?”

There was a moment of silence as Tony thought. “I’m not sure. Maybe they just had too many books and didn’t know what to do with them, so they decided to share them with the world. Seriously kid, what’s on your mind?”

“There’s an empty shop below my apartment. Town like this could use a bookstore.”

Tony sighed, but it sounded affectionate. “Does May have any of your old books? I can pull out the ones I don’t read anymore and put out some feelers for more and start sending them to you. See what you can do about getting the business license and a cat.”

“Okay. You can ask May, but I don’t know what she saved. I’ll call you in a few days.”

“You got it kiddo. Talk to you later.”

“Wait, Tony-”

“Hmm?”

“What about…?”

“He hasn’t figured it out yet,” Tony assured him. “As far as he can tell, you’re dead in a dumpster somewhere, and is getting angrier by the day since he can’t find you.”

He sucked in a breath. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Kid, don’t worry about it. Repeat after me: you’re safe.”

“I’m safe.”

“You’re loved.”

“I'm loved.”

“And you did not deserve any of this, but you’re going to do great.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Goodnight, Pete.”

“Night.” The line clicked, and Peter stared up at the ceiling for a while until he eventually got tired.

His bookshelf only had a few books on it. Just his favorites that he couldn’t bear to leave behind. Maybe this could be the way he made a new life.

~~~

Getting the business license proved to be the easy part. The day after he called Tony, he walked down to the courthouse and talked to someone who claimed to be the mayor.

“That place hasn’t been anything in years,” he said. “The problem is no one wants to deal with all the fixin’ up it’s gonna need.”

“What if I said I would?”

He lowered his glasses and looked Peter up and down. “You new in town, boy?”

“Yes sir.”

“Figured as much. The accent gives it away, but no one in this town’s ever given a rat's ass about that place.”

“Call me a bleeding heart, sir, but I can’t stand to see a place like that go uncared for.”

The mayor raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Alright then. Stay there, let me go get the paperwork and I’ll send you on your way.”

Peter walked out a few minutes later with a stack of files and the mayor’s number in case he had any questions. Now to find out if this town had a humane society.

~~~

All said and done, it took four months.

Convincing the bank to let him buy the building when he had effectively no job or steady income was difficult to say the least, but he showed them proof of a significant amount of savings and they let him have it.

Peter walked out with the deed, a set of keys, and a ‘good luck’. Everything he needed.

Opening the door revealed a lot of dust and cobwebs, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He ran back to his car to grab some of the things he’d picked up from the store on his way home, and came back with a mask, gloves, and garbage bags.

Time to get to work.

He started by dragging all the old furniture to the curb, and then throwing away all the trash that was left behind.

The floors needed work, and there was no counter to speak of, much less bookshelves, but with a lamp here and maybe a record player there-

Yeah, Tennessee was right for him.

Pulling everything out had been the right move. He had to sand and completely refinish the floors, not because the old floors were ugly, but parts of it were splattered with paint, and that just wouldn’t do.

Since he couldn’t be in the building for a few days, he took the opportunity to go out and find shelves and a desk he could use as the checkout counter, as well as some paint samples. He wanted something blue, maybe some red accents.

Predictably, the biggest obstacle was the books themselves. Tony couldn’t very well send them since Peter still couldn’t give him his address, plus most of Tony’s friends were in the public eye, and a shipment like that would draw too much attention from anyone who might be paying attention.

Not even May could come down, just in case he was still watching. He couldn’t risk it, not when he’s come so far.

His saving grace came in the form of one of Tony’s coworker’s wives who the general public had no idea existed. It took a bit of doing, but he trusted her enough that no one would figure out where he was, even through her.

“Laura,” she introduced herself, setting a box down heavily on the floor. “Laura Barton.”

Together, they dragged boxes upon boxes of books out of a moving van, and by the end of the day, Peter sat surrounded by a mountain of books, all ready to be sorted and shelved and priced.

~~~

His cat’s name was Data. She had a bed under the desk, but preferred hanging out on the higher shelves or even on top of piles of books when she couldn’t be bothered to climb all the way up.

Everyone loved her. Especially the little old ladies that came in. They thought she was darling.

Little old ladies were his primary clientele, which he was not going to complain about. He also had a lot of younger people come in, including some teenagers who offered to redesign his ‘Donations Welcome’ sign.

There were soft chairs set up around, and he kept soft music playing so it didn’t feel too much like a library.

Pen and Paper Used Books was meant to be welcoming for anyone who came in.

On one slow, fateful day, Peter looked up from his own book when the bell above the door rang to let him know someone came in. It wasn’t one of his regulars, but he glanced around a little before heading towards the counter.

As he approached, a couple of small children crossed his path, and he reached into his pocket to pull out what looked like flowers for the both of them. He handed each of them the buds and waved as they ran off again, quick as they appeared.

Peter was entranced.

He shook it off quickly so the man wouldn’t notice him staring. He removed his reading glasses and hung them over his collar before greeting him.

“Welcome to Pen and Paper, anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“I need a gift?” the man said, but it sounded like a question. “Sorry, I’m not sure where to start.”

“That’s alright. Who’s it for?”

“My mom.”

Okay. The guy was probably around his age, so he thought about what May would read. “Do you know what she’s usually interested in? Romance, thrillers…?”

“She likes humanity,” he said. “Stories about people being people. She also likes music if that helps.”

Humanity, music-

Right, he could work with that.

“Have you heard of Mitch Albom? Writer, journalist, had a lot to do with sports for a while?”

“I don’t really pay attention to sports,” the guy confessed.

“You don’t need to,” Peter told him. “He wrote this book about a musician that a lot of people liked. Went around with the women I grew up around faster than most books did. It should be around here somewhere…”

He hooked his ankle around a ladder and wheeled it closer so he could reach one of the higher shelves.

“Aha!” He grabbed the familiar cover and handed it down.

“The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto?” The guy scrunched his nose. “Sounds cheesy.”

“Yeah, but read the summary. I’ve read that book multiple times and it never gets old.”

He did so as Peter jumped down. “This actually sounds exactly like something she would like. Thank you.”

“Not a problem. That all you’re looking for today?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

They walked back up towards the counter so he could pay.

“Not much of a reader then, I take it?” Peter asked, just to make conversation.

“Nah, growing up I was more into building things. You?”

“Part of why this is my life, for sure. Still, I feel you. I practically grew up in a chemistry lab.”

“Man of science then, I see,” the man laughed. “Am I allowed to ask what got you into books?”

“Found a few good ones and then couldn’t get enough.” He put the book in a bag and handed it to him in exchange for the cash.

“I wish I could do something like that.”

“You probably could, you just haven’t found the right book yet,” Peter told him.

“Really? What would you recommend?”

Peter glanced at his copy of Fan Art just below the countertop. “Depends on what you’re looking for. Some people like having their hearts ripped out, some people just like seeing the good in the world.”

“I am definitely the latter,” he chuckled. “Can’t stand movies that are too serious, I feel like it would be worse with books.”

Made sense. “What kind of diversity are you looking for? Straight, gay-”

“Gay. I’m gay,” the guy blurted, and then promptly covered his face. “That’s not what you asked.”

“No, but I think I know what you’ll like,” Peter winked, and he blushed furiously. He pulled the bookmark out of his own copy and handed it to him. “It’s a little more on the YA side, and definitely dated, but it’s one of my go-tos when I need a fluffy pick-me-up.”

“Oh. How much?”

“No, call it insurance. Bring it back when you finish and tell me what you think.”

He looked hesitant. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. Now go before I change my mind.”

“Alright. See you around.”

“See you!” Peter said cheerfully.

The guy gave him a little wave that Peter returned as he walked out the door.

It wasn’t till after he was down the street that Peter realized he left a red rose on the counter.

That wasn’t likely to be an interaction he would forget any time soon.

Even May could tell over the phone that night that something was up.

“You seem a little spacy today, honey. Everything alright?”

“Fine, May. Long day, that’s all.”

“Is that so? Any interesting customers?”

His thoughts floated back to the guy again, and May took his silence as an answer.

“So, were they cute?”

“Who says I met someone?”

“The day you met He Who We Do Not Speak Of, you were quieter. Like you were sitting at the table doing your homework, but you weren’t all there. Call it an educated guess.”

Peter sighed. “Fine, so there was a guy. Handsome, kinda dorky, accidentally came out to me, just my type.”

“I’m happy for you, Peter. You’re moving on, that’s a good thing.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, like if he was too loud he’d scare the giddy excitement away.

“So,” she said after a moment, “what’s his name?”

He hadn’t asked his name. “Uh.”

“You didn't get his name, did you?”

“No? But he said he was coming back, so I can ask then.”

“How can you be sure he’ll come back?”

“I recommended him my favorite book and he promised he’d come back and tell me whether or not he liked it?”

“He must have been really cute then,” she laughed.

“I’m hanging up now, bye May, I love you!” he called.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she stopped him. “Have you gotten out at all?”

“Barely. I’ve been busy trying to set up a life here.”

“You should start exploring the town. Who knows, maybe you’ll spot him around.”

“I will do my best to do so,” he conceded. “Love you, May.”

“Love you too, bugger. I can’t wait until we clear this whole mess up and I can bring you home.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They said their goodbyes, and Peter thought about where he could go the next day. He typically closed the shop for an hour or so in the afternoon so he could get lunch and make sure the cat still had water.

The coffee shop was a good place to start. He really did need to get out more.

~~~

How long does it take to become a regular somewhere?

Given that Peter had hardly walked through the door before Adora, the barista that always worked this shift, was handing him his order, he guessed after about two weeks of going to a place consistently.

“One of these I’m going to change my order just so you’re not prepared,” he snarked

“You do that, sweetie,” she returned, with an equal amount of sass.

He handed her his money, already pre-counted, because she wasn’t the only one prepared. “I mean it.”

“I know.”

It almost made him laugh how much these interactions reminded him of Queens. He would have had this same conversation with Delmar once upon a time, and yet here he is, hundreds of miles away.

“Did you finish that book on the history of animation?”

“You betcha. Wes was so excited when he realized I understood what he was talking about.”

“Wait until we get you into the more technical stuff.”

“Perish the thought, I think the history is far enough for now. That son of mine will start thinking I’m a cool mom, and we can’t have that.”

“Oh never, ma’am.”

“Run along and eat, honey. You’re already too skinny, I’m not going to be the one that lets you starve to death.”

Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m fine, Adora, stop worrying so much.” Then something in the counter caught his eye. “When did you get flowers?”

“Just yesterday. The boy from Mr. Rose came down and dropped ‘em off. I swear he keeps rose buds in his pockets just to hand out to kids.”

Rose buds. Peter wondered if there was any relation to the man from his shop a couple weeks prior. The guy hadn’t been back, but new readers always take longer to finish a story, even with smaller books.

“I wonder if that shop of yours could use a pop of color to brighten it up,” Adora continued, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I bet some sunflowers would look cute on one of those side tables.”

“I’ll think about it,” he told her. “What are the hours like?”

“They close about an hour after you do, so don’t you dare think about missing lunch,” she scolded him.

“Never in a million years,” he promised. “See you tomorrow, Adora.”

“Bye, Peter!”

He took a sip of his coffee as he walked out the door.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would see if the guy had any connection to the flower shop.

~~~

Mr. Rose looked like someone had smashed a house into a greenhouse and still somehow made it work.

Walking in the door proved his point as Peter was immediately misted by one of the many sprinklers dotted along the ceiling.

It took a minute to locate the desk underneath everything else, but eventually he made it to where the man from the bookstore was sitting, writing something down in a large notebook.

“Are you Mr. Rose?” Peter asked to get his attention.

His eyes snapped up and widened. “I- um- no? Well, yes technically because I own the place but I’m not- that’s not-” he sighed, defeated. “Can I start over?”

“Be my guest,” Peter teased.

“I’m Harley Keener. I didn’t name this place Mr. Rose, my mentor did, and for the record, his name wasn’t Mr. Rose either. The people in this town just think they’re funny putting Rose in front of everything.”

Harley. It suited him. “I’m Peter. So the builder takes care of flowers, I see.”

“And the chemist tends to his books,” Harley shot back.

“Which flowers do you think would go best with books? Just out of professional curiosity.”

“Well, if it’s professional curiosity.” Harley’s eyes twinkled with mirth as he moved from behind the counter to lead Peter around the shop. “I’ve always been a fan of vines tangled among bookshelves, but a sunflower or two in the children’s section or orchids hear the murder mysteries wouldn’t go amiss. Neither would roses in the romance section.”

He made a dramatic show of handing Peter a rose he plucked from a display.

“Tell me about them?”

“The roses?”

“Please?”

Harley took a deep breath. “This may be one of the most appropriate places to use rose in the name.” He gestured all around them. “We’re in a valley with a river at the bottom. When this town was settled, it was surrounded by a field of roses. It’s smaller now, but I cultivate it as best I can.”

“You cultivate them yourself?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I got into horticulture in high school, I’m very multifaceted.”

“Of course, I should have known.”

There was a beat of silence before Harley spoke again. “I was actually going to come see you tomorrow.”

Peter hummed.

“I have your book here to remind me. I finished it yesterday.” He reached under the counter and pulled out the familiar cover.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like it?”

“You know what? I did.”

“Good. I’m glad. I’d like to hear your thoughts when you get the time.”

Harley paused, having started to hold the book out to Peter. “Are you doing anything for the rest of the day?”

“I can’t say I have any plans.”

“How’d you like to spend the rest of your afternoon with me? I’d like to show you the greenhouse, and we can talk about the book while we walk.”

He felt butterflies bloom in his stomach. “Okay.”

“Okay. Let me put up the closed sign and lock the door and we’ll be good to go.” A pair of keys jingled, and Harley made his way back where Peter had come from. Fortunately, Harley actually knew the layout of the building and was back with Peter within a couple minutes. “Right, onwards and upwards, shall we?”

This time, Harley held out his hand without the book.

Peter took it without hesitation. “Alright.”

“Prepare to be amazed.” Harley led him towards another door and opened it with a flourish.

“Holy cow.” Peter was, in fact, amazed.

Rows upon rows of greenery sprawled through the space. Harley started walking them through the nearest section, pointing out unique details about the plants, even while he was talking about the book.

“I mean, I get it, walking into a GSA meeting is like being branded, but did they have to make them all art kids? Come on, I want some queer STEM representation- oh, check out these marigolds, they really came into bloom this year- some queer STEM representation in these stories, you know?”

“Congratulations, you just became my favorite person,” Peter said. “What are those?”

“Those would be Cécile Brunner roses. They’re a variety of climbing roses, some of my favorites.”

“But they’re so small.”

“Yeah. Supposedly they’re popular because they’re tea roses, but honestly their biggest selling point is that they’re easy on the allergies.”

“No kidding? And I need to know, what did you think about the meddling art girls?”

“Listen okay, my sister was an art kid, I love her to pieces, but I was so ready to fight them. Shipping real people is honestly annoying, and they were awful about it.”

“Right? One of my best friends was an art kid, and she would pull inspiration from real life, mostly with character design, but she would never make up stories that could genuinely hurt them.”

“I get that. I’m glad it ended well, but god, what a book.”

“That's why it’s my favorite.”

They came to a set of barn doors at the far end of the greenhouse. “I know I said you would be amazed by this, but behind these doors is the real attraction. I don’t take most people back here, but I think you’ve earned it.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, you showed me one of your favorite things, it’s only fair I return the favor. You ready?”

“Sure.”

Harley pushed down on the handles, and the doors opened outward into a field of roses.

The sight took his breath away. A field of roses under golden hour sunlight was more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen before.

He walked out slowly, spinning in a circle until he was facing Harley again.

“Incredible, right?” Harley grinned.

“I don’t know what to say,” Peter laughed giddily.

“Wanna run through them?”

“What?”

“You’re telling me you’ve never thought about running through a field before?”

“Not really? There weren’t many fields where I grew up.”

“Then you’re missing out, city boy.” Harley grabbed his hand again and started walking them towards the lip of the valley. “Ready?”

“For what?”

And then Harley took off.

Peter was admittedly not the most athletic kid growing up, but when he grew out of his asthma, he wasn’t a terrible runner.

That being said, unfamiliar terrain plus not being prepared to run so suddenly had him tripping over his own two feet moments later and pitching into Harley, causing them both to roll down the rest of the hill.

When they finally came to a stop, Harley was somehow underneath him, and their noses were almost touching. They were both smiling and laughing like idiots, and Peter couldn’t believe how happy he was. He hadn’t felt like this since…

Since…

He couldn’t remember.

“We should get coffee sometime,” he rushed out, just so he wouldn’t lose his nerve.

“Bring another one of your favorite books and it’s a date,” Harley said.

A date. Yeah, he could go on a date.

~~~

They went on more than one date. Six to be exact.

Well, they were on the six one now.

Harley asked him to go on a picnic on one of the hills that overlooks the town, and Peter brought along a book to read after they ate.

It was actually the same book he brought on their second date. Harley took one look at the length of The Hobbit and was immediately doubtful that he would like it, but Peter offered to read it to him instead.

On their third date, Harley came into the bookstore while Peter was working and brought him coffee. He got him to sit down for the first time all day by asking Peter to read to him.

Peter put up a sign to say they were hiring that same day.

A couple of people had interviewed, but he still had to be in the shop with any new hires for the first little bit, which meant they were doing this on his day off.

In Rose Hill, almost everywhere was closed on Monday, so Peter followed suit. It meant he could do this. Here. With Harley. The man who was perfectly content to lay his head down in his lap and listen to him read.

God, what a life.

He was describing Mirkwood when Harley tapped his hand.

“Take a break?”

“Sure. Everything okay?”

“Yeah I can just feel myself zoning out and I don’t want to miss anything.”

“Okay.” Peter bookmarked the page and set it off to the side before bringing his hands back to play with Harley’s hair. “You like it though?”

“Love it.”

“My uncle read it to me when I was a kid. I think it’s better if it’s read to you.”

It was rare that he volunteered personal information, but in moments like these, it felt natural.

“Was coming to Tennessee like an adventure for you? I know you ain’t from here, but I hope it suits you fine.”

He thought about it for a moment. “It was a bit of an adventure, yeah. Might qualify more as a quest in Tolkien’s eyes, but for all intents and purposes, adventure works.”

“You never talk about how you ended up here,” Harley noticed. “This is a far cry from any city I’ve been to.”

“I needed a change of pace. Cities are loud and packed and there’s too many people who might know too much. So I came here.”

Harley sat up slowly, untangling Peter’s hands from his head as he went. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but what were you running from?”

Peter stayed silent.

“You’re safe here, you know,” Harley told him. “Half this town would defend you in a heartbeat, and lord knows I’m with them. You never have to tell me what you went through, but I know you’ve been hurt, and whoever did it must have done something awful to you.”

“That obvious huh?” Peter sniffed.

“Only to someone who knows something about pain.”

Neither of them said anything for a moment, but Peter felt something come undone in his chest.

“I want this, you know. Us.”

He nodded, waiting for Peter to continue.

“The person who hurt me made me scared to ever want a relationship ever again. I know we’ve been going slow, and I’m sorry-”

“Hey,” Harley interrupted. “I’m okay with slow. Slow is good.”

Peter gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

“This goes only as far as you want it to go,” Harley told him. “If you want to just hang out like this, me nearly falling asleep on your lap on a grassy hilltop, then I’ll be perfectly happy.”

He could control their pace. Harley was willingly giving that power to Peter, seemingly with no intention of using it against him later.

“And if I ever want to take it further?”

“Then I’ll follow your lead.”

“If I want to kiss you?”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

The butterflies in his stomach were turning into birds. His eyes flitted down to Harley’s lips.

“I think so.”

“Alright. Consider this an open invitation to kiss me then.”

Peter reached up and caressed Harley’s cheek, using what little leverage he had to pull him closer and bringing their lips together gently. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but Harley kept his hands to his sides and let Peter have complete control.

It was more like breathing than it was kissing.

He pulled away slowly, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did.

Harley was smiling. “Do you want to be done reading for the day, or do you want to keep going?” he asked.

“My voice is a little scratchy, I won’t lie,” Peter said. “I can help you pack up and walk with you to the road.”

“That’d be nice, thanks.”

They finished packing up, and Peter held out his hand for Harley to take. He wound their fingers together, and they began their descent.

Once they reached the base of the hill, Peter was hesitant to let go, but Harley squeezed his hand tighter and raised it to his lips.

“What do you say about taking a long lunch on Friday? We can get lunch at the coffee shop, you can keep reading if you’re up to it. I want to know what happens next.”

“It’s a date,” Peter said.

Harley placed a light kiss on his hand before he had to drop it so they could go their separate ways.

“I mean it by the way. You’re in control here,” he said. “If I ever do something to hurt you, say the word and I’ll stop immediately, no questions asked.”

Peter nodded and thanked him before turning back towards town.

The dart he threw at that map must have been really lucky.

~~~

It shouldn’t have surprised Peter that Harley meant what he said. He really did let Peter control the pace.

Not to say they didn’t take it up a notch. Peter let Harley take him out to dinner, no books between them, and at the end of the night, Harley walked him home and kissed him at his door.

“A true gentleman,” Peter laughed.

“Mhmm. This is how we do courtship here in Tennessee.”

“Courtship huh?”

“If you have me.”

“Keep this up, and I just might.” Peter kissed him one last time. “Goodnight Harley.”

“Goodnight Peter. I’ll see you later.”

“See you.”

Peter waved him off, unlocked his door, and walked up the stairs to his apartment. He always stayed close by a window, just to watch Harley walk down the street, and to see if anything else might happen. It never did, but it didn’t hurt to make sure.

A fact that was reinforced a few days later during his weekly phone call with Tony.

“Peter, he paces around outside your old apartment building and around SI. It’s not obvious to anyone who’s not looking, but he thinks you’re hiding here.”

“It’s been over a year,” Peter whispered brokenly. “Why won’t he give up?”

“I don’t know, kiddo. I know you didn’t want to, but I really think we should open a case on him.”

“But that statute of limitations-”

“Won’t have any impact on this if he’s still stalking you, which we have proof of. You have witnesses ready to speak for you, all we need is concrete evidence from you.”

Peter took a deep breath. He had a feeling he knew what was coming next. “What do I need to do?”

“I need your permission to go through your old phone.”

“You’re not going to like what you see.”

“I know. We’re going to go through it with a lawyer present, but I need you to know we won’t judge you for whatever we find. Please just say yes, Peter. We miss you, and I would imagine you miss New York.”

“It’s not so bad here,” he said weakly. “Honestly I would be fine with staying, but maybe I can come visit New York on weekends.”

“Is that a yes?” Tony sounded hopeful.

Maybe it was time.

He was ready. “Yes it is.”

~~~

There was no word on the matter for another couple of weeks. Then Peter got a call in the middle of a work day.

Pen and Paper was hosting an event to encourage people to read, and Peter was reading to a circle of small children when his phone rang.

Hardly anyone knew his number so he knew it must be urgent. He handed the book off to Harley who picked up where he left off seamlessly.

“Hello?”

“He’s in custody. The police picked him up this morning.”

“What?”

“You ex. He’s done. The case goes to trial in a month, and not even I could make the bail they set for him.”

“You’re joking.”

“I would never joke about this. I’ll fill you in on the details next time we talk, but I thought you should know.” He could hear Tony’s relief loud and clear through the phone.

“Okay. Okay. This is… a lot. Thank you for letting me know.”

He hung up and looked over at Harley who shot him a worried glance, but never faltered in his reading. It was amazing to see the same boy who’d walked into this same shop just a few months ago confused, now perfectly at home, and even contributing to the bookstore.

Peter never wanted to let him go. He studied his posture, how animated he got when he became a character, and Peter understood what it was like to fall in love with reading all over again.

Harley could take it from there. Peter was feeling restless after he got the news, so he decided to make himself busy elsewhere just to give himself something to do.

Nearing the end of the day, business slowed until it was only him and Harley in the shop.

“What do you say you close early today? I think we can finish the last couple chapters of The Hobbit before it gets too late. Maybe it’ll help you relax.”

They’d gotten a little held up on finishing it, but now that they were almost done, Peter couldn’t wait to reach the end. Plus Harley was right, he was on edge, and reading one of his favorite books would help.

“Sure. Go sit and I’ll meet you over there in just a minute once I find it.”

“Way ahead of you.” Harley held up the book. “I was really hoping you’d say yes.”

“Dork,” Peter snorted, letting Harley pull him onto a couch.

“Hey now, let’s remember who introduced this book to who,” Harley pointed out.

“Whatever. Hush, let me read.”

“Oh no, don’t let me get in your way.”

Peter stuck his tongue out at him, but started reading nonetheless.

By the time they finished the book, it was nearly dark.

They sat in silence for a while, letting the ending settle over them, but Harley moved under him.

“I should get home,” he said, not making much of an effort to get up. “Maybe you can start thinking about the next book we’ll read?”

“As much as I want to keep reading Lord of the Rings, I kind of want you to read the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy first.”

“You’re the bookkeeper,” Harley teased, dropping a light kiss on the top of his head. “I really should get going though. I walked here, and the sun is about to set.”

He was safe. Peter was safe. He didn’t need to be worried about going out at night anymore.

“Let me walk you back?” he asked.

Harley’s reaction was instantaneous. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” Peter reassured him. “Please?”

“Okay,” he smiled.

It was infectious. Peter smiled back. “Let me get my keys and we can head out.”

When he was grabbing his keys from behind the desk, he put the book away and checked Data’s water bowl. Satisfied that there was nothing left to do, he turned off the lights and met Harley at the door.

He locked the door behind them, and found Harley’s hand to hold. “Lead the way.”

“If it were later I’d point out all the constellations to you,” Harley told him as they walked. “You can see a couple peeking over the horizon, but it’s hard to tell what they are yet.”

“We’ll have to go stargazing one of these nights,” Peter responded. “I’ve never been.”

“Oh, you’re missing out,” Harley emphasized. “There’s a great spot out near where my mom lives that’s amazing for stargazing. Almost no light from the city gets in your way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

As they walked, Harley would tell him about memories from his childhood, and it struck Peter, not for the first time, how different his life was growing up.

Finally, they reached a quaint house on the outskirts of town, and Harley drew to a stop.

“This is me,” he motioned to the house. “Thank you for walking me home.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Peter wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do here, so he leaned up and gave Harley a light kiss.

Harley took a sharp breath in. “Do you want to come in?”

Such a simple question, yet Peter almost couldn’t answer without his words shaking. “I would love to.”

He turned to unlock the door. This was Peter’s last chance to run.

No. Harley is good. Harley is safe. He can do this now.

“It’s not much, but it’s just me here.” Harley flipped on the lights and waved Peter inside.

There was a vase of odd flowers on his table, the rejects he couldn’t sell, Peter knew. The art on the walls are all done by his sister who moved to the city, but comes back to Rose Hill a few times a year to visit.

It’s lived in, comfortable, and all too much like Harley.

“It’s nice,” Peter said. “Better than any apartment I’ve ever lived in.”

Harley snorted. “I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“Definitely a compliment,” Peter assured him.

“Good.” They stood staring at each other for a moment before Harley snapped to attention. “The living room is through there if you want to make yourself at home. Can I get you anything to drink? There’s coffee, apple juice, water? I might have a bottle of wine from the last time I had my mom over, but I don’t like the stuff. Gives me a headache. Oh god, that made me sound old, didn’t it?”

Peter laughed. “Only a little bit. Plus I don’t drink, so I’m alright for now.”

“Just let me know if you want anything,” he said, dropping onto the couch next to Peter. “So…”

“So…” Peter mocked. “You never told me if you liked the book or not. I want your thoughts.”

“What can I say?” he asked. “I loved it. Really and truly, I’m so glad you read it to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harley confirmed. “Maybe it’s your voice, or the way your body language changes subtly when you speak for different characters, but I’ve never read a book like it.”

“I’m glad,” he said softly. “I like being able to share my favorite books with people.”

“I’ll have to find something I can share with you. How do you feel about getting flowers every week?”

Peter’s breath hitched. “I’d love that, but you don’t need to. All I ever want is to spend time with you.”

Harley brushed a thumb over his knuckles. “I want to do things like that for you, but because I have to, but because I like seeing you smile. I’ll never forget the look on your face the first time you saw the rose field, and if I have to spend the rest of our time together trying to make you feel like that again, then I will.”

He had no words. There was nothing he could say that would adequately describe how he felt, so he pulled Harley into a deep kiss.

It was messy, and Peter suspected that he was crying a little bit, but when Harley gripped at his hips, his mind blanked, and he moved to straddle him.

His new position made it easier to deepen the kiss. It always amazed him how warm Harley was, almost like years of being outdoors had a permanent effect on his internal temperature.

Harley’s hands were still on his hips, just resting there instead of grabbing at anywhere he could reach.

“This okay?” he asked, leaving a trail of wet kisses down Harley’s neck.

“God fuck, Peter, yes,” Harley moaned as he ground down on him. “Baby, please-”

“Show me. Show me what else you want.”

“We gotta find a bed before we have that conversation,” Harley panted. “Can I take you to bed?”

If only because Peter didn’t want to stop kissing him, he said yes, and stepped backwards so Harley could lead him towards the room.

“We don’t have to go any further than this if you don’t want to,” Harley reminded him. “If you just want to keep making out, that’s fine, but a bed would be more comfortable either way”

Peter pulled him into another long kiss, and Harley groaned. “Bed,” he said. “Bed sounds good.”

“Amazing.” Harley tugged on his hand, and they stumbled through the house until he managed to get his bedroom door open.

“How- how is this going to work?” Peter asked, suddenly nervous.

“However you want it to,” Harley reminded him. “What’s gonna make you most comfortable?”

“Making out with you while wearing jeans feels wrong, but I don’t want- I don’t want to-”

“So then we don’t,” Harley shrugged. “You’re wearing boxers or something, right? I’ll just keep my hands above your waist.”

He stood back and stared at him. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I am. If you’re uncomfortable, we can stop at any time. I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

“Incredible,” Peter breathed. “You’re incredible.” He surged in again for a kiss, thumbing at the hem of Harley’s shirt. “Can I see you?”

Harley’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Holy shit. Go for it. I sleep shirtless anyways.”

Taking off his shirt revealed tanned skin and an abundance of freckles. He was warm to the touch.

He’s always warm. Everything that surrounded Peter now was warmth.

It was hard to separate so he could undress himself, but they got there eventually. Harley pulled him down onto the bed, laughing all the while.

Eventually they settled down with no shortage of giggles, and Harley turned to face him.

“You’re beautiful.”

Peter scrunched up his nose at the compliment, but Harley kissed it away. “You can’t seriously tell me you don’t know you’re beautiful. Your voice, your heart, your gorgeous face, all of it.”

He hid his face in Harley’s shoulder. “Shut up,” he muttered.

“Fine, whatever you say. At least let me see you so I can kiss you goodnight.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Peter said, raising his head. Harley rewarded him with a languid kiss that left Peter wanting for more, but his exhaustion was winning out.

“Goodnight, angel,” he said with a yawn, turning so he wouldn’t accidentally elbow Harley in the night.

“Night, sweetheart,” Harley returned, letting Peter determine their closeness, and positioning himself accordingly when he was settled.

Peter drifted off to sleep easily, happy with where he ended up.

~~~

When he woke up the next morning, still tangled in Harley’s sheets, he realized that was the best he’d slept in a long time. The man whose bed he was in was still soundly asleep, just barely illuminated by the cold, dawn sunlight. He studied him for a moment, admiring how his hair draped across his forehead and how his lips were slightly parted as he breathed.

Harley’s arm was draped over his waist, but it wasn’t holding him there. He could get up and leave if he wanted to.

It shocked him a little to realize that he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay here with Harley, at least for a little while longer.

The world could wait a little while longer for Peter Parker to get out of bed.

~~~

A few weeks later, Tony called him again.

“I’m not saying you have to, but we’d like you to come testify.”

“Would it help?”

“Almost definitely. We could probably nail him without you there, but it couldn’t hurt.”

He thought of what his ex would say if he wasn’t there.

‘Coward!’

‘Couldn’t stand up to me when we were together, why should you be able to now?’

‘I should have double checked that the windows were locked that night, then none of this would have happened!’

“When?”

“The trial is next week. How soon could you get here?”

Peter made a mental checklist of everything he would need to do before he left. He could leave with the couple of employees that had a solid handle on things, and Adora would probably be willing to take Data for a bit. The last person he had to worry about was Harley.

“Give me a couple days. I’ll need some help getting back to New York.”

Even with all the preparations made and safety measures taken, he knew he wouldn’t fully be able to relax until a guilty verdict was read and his ex was sentenced months later.

~~~

All said and done, he wasn’t able to get back to Rose Hill for almost three months. Three months away from his bookstore, his cat, his favorite coffee shop.

His Harley.

As much as he loved New York, something about the small town had grown on him.

“You want to go back?” Tony asked, stunned. “I thought you wanted to be in New York.”

He considered this for a moment. “I think in the beginning I did, but I built a life in Tennessee, and it’s time I got back to it. At least I can come visit now. We were fighting for my freedom, not just so I could go back to how it was before. Nothing is going to be the same now.”

Tony sighed. “Have you talked to May?”

“She had about the same reaction you did, but I got her to cave.”

“Will you at least let us take you back down? I want to see that bookstore of yours.”

“Yes, you can come down with me. I think you’d like it there.” Peter rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“I don’t know either, but I love you kiddo.”

“Love you too, Tony.”

He cleared his throat. “How soon do you want to be out of here? I can have the plane ready to go first thing in the morning if you want.”

“I’d rather drive, actually,” Peter told him. “You can fly in after and I can pick you up from the airport.”

“You really aren’t the same kid you were a few years ago. Good for you. Mind if we drive with you?”

“Not at all,” Peter said. “Not at all.”

~~~

They drove into town on a snowy February day, and Peter pulled into his usual parking spot behind his building. “Let me bring you around front. I have something I need to take care of, but I can leave you in the capable hands that work here.”

Tony ruffled his hair affectionately, and May kissed him on the cheek.

“You don’t have to worry about us,” Tony said confidently.

“I’ll keep him out of trouble,” May told him. “Take your time, honey.”

“Thanks May,” he called as he ran up the stairs to his apartment.

What he was looking for should be around somewhere.

It was on his bookshelf, next to a pen and some sticky notes. He uncapped the pen and got to writing.

Harley,

I never got to thank you. The day I met you, I was captivated by your presence, and I knew I needed to see you again. I found you again through flowers, and I never expected anything else to bloom, but here we are.

The odds of me coming to Rose Hill were slim, but thank God I did. This town means more to me than New York did, and it’s all because of you.

Thank you for leaving this rose on my desk the first time we met. Thank you for letting me share the books I love with you. Thank you for showing me the rose fields. Thank you for being understanding and never pushing me further than I wanted to go.

You made Rose Hill my home, Harley Keener, and I’ll love you forever for that. You made me feel like the boy I was when I was a teenager, while making me a better man.

Yours,

Peter Parker.

The note was written on the inside cover of Fan Art, the dried out rose from the day they met marking the entry.

It took all of his self control not to run all the way to Harley’s. He shouldn’t be working right now, he always took Monday afternoons off. Being the only shop that stayed open on Mondays gave him some leeway in his schedule, so one of his employees would be there in his place.

When he finally reached Harley’s door, he knocked three times. It took a minute for Harley to answer, but when the door flew open, Peter grinned.

“You’re back. You’re really back,” Harley said, clearly out of breath from running to the door.

“I’m back,” Peter confirmed. “I wanted to give this to you.” He held out the object in his hand.

Harley looked between him and the book.

“Does this mean you’re not staying in Rose Hill?” Harley asked carefully.

“Oh, no, I’m staying,” he said. “I just realized I never got to say thank you. Or I love you.”

Harley nodded slowly, setting the book on the end table by his door.

Peter opened his arms and waited. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Harley to launch himself at him, and wrap Peter in the tightest hug he’d ever experienced.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered.

“I know,” Peter said, pulling back to kiss him soundly. “God, I know. These last few months have been hell.”

“At least you could go home,” Harley said.

“That’s true,” Peter admitted. “I’m so glad I’m back.

“But what about the city-”

“I’m not so sure New York is home anymore,” he said. “How about you walk back to town with me? I will say there’s a couple people I want you to meet.”

[grayintogreen]

Maybe this is obvious or has been talked about before, but I've been thinking, does being the Nonagon actually mean anything? Like, aside from maybe the legendary actions Lucien's powers were powers anyone could get with the eyes. He's not the only one who can get into Cognouza since Cree and the Nein got in. I guess he's the only one who could open the portal? Idk.

I feel like the whole Nonagon "chosen one" thing was mostly bullshit made up by the Somnovem so they could manipulate someone into helping them.

DING DING. We have a winner!

I mean "aside from the legendary actions," which are nothing to sneeze at, but Lucien's legendary actions pre-Neo Somnovem weren't really that impressive, so if you consider that Lucien was NEVER supposed to have the power he ended up having, yeah. Yeah, being a Nonagon just sounds like being a normal Champion and those are a dime a dozen. Like hell, Uko'toa is out there throwing balls at people and never claimed There Can Be Only One.

I haven't actually talked about this AT ALL despite it being one of my main headcanons about the Somnovem. CR2 had a lot of stuff about old corrupt people in power and how they use the ambition and desperation of the young to get what they want by manipulating them, and I don't think Lucien's situation was any different.

Now I don't just say that because LOOK FREE LUCIGAST PARALLELS. It's kinda OBVIOUS, at least to me, that Lucien was being groomed (he was some punkass kid with ambition and brains and a desperate need to be accepted) and that his only job was to get the crests and move the city. Once he did that, he was done for. What other use would he even have? The whole world was about to go to shit.

And here's the thing- Lucien figured it out and flipped that "minion gets betrayed" narrative on its head. He had a lot to be pissed about being stuck in Cognouza with the Bitchiest Hivemind Ever, but I think peeking behind the curtain made him realize that the whole Nonagon thing was shit TO THEM, but to him? To him, it was everything. So he held onto it, even after it became clear that he didn't buy into THEIR idea of the Nonagon, because if he dismissed the title outright, he would have to admit that he wasn't special. He just found a book. (I say all this because Lucien WAS attached to the title and not just because of his long con. Like he may have turned on the Somnovem, but the significance of EVERYTHING stuck with him- he just decided he needed full control if the Somnovem weren't doing it right, otherwise he would have just nuked them and walked the fuck away.)

But that's the thing- the Nonagon is just the first person who finds the book and takes up the mantle. The Nonagon is an errand boy with special perks. The Nonagon is not CHOSEN, like Lucien clearly, CLEARLY needed to believe it was (lest we forget he gets genuinely choked up when he talks about the Somnovem "choosing" him- this meant something to him).

So yeah, I believe to the Somnovem, a Nonagon is just anyone who reads the book and takes their blessings and does their bidding and whatever they say otherwise is just fluffing their patsy up. Vess could have easily been the True Nonagon, and that's probably why he's so testy about her taking the title. There was LITERALLY NOTHING separating her from Lucien except that he was just a bit more vengeful and he got the drop on her. But fortunately, he has this handy narrative he can spin in his favor, which can go one of two ways:

1. The Somnovem put him back together so therefore he is clearly meant to be the True Nonagon and Vess is an icky bitch and they confirmed it.

2. Lucien made all of it up to make himself feel better.

Now I have mentioned that I think the Intended Usurper prophetical aspect Lucien spouted didn't sound like the Somnovem at all because that sounds like a lot of work for The World's Worst Group Project to conjure up, but it could be. I do think that they went out of their way to pull Lucien back together, not because he was The Only True Nonagon, but because they probably didn't WANT Vess as any sort of Nonagon and she was the one with the book, so no other Nonagons could exist. Like if Joe from Balenpost found the book and was easily manipulated, Lucien would probably be out on his ass, scattered to the winds for an eternity, but Vess is another wizard and wizards are notoriously like territorial cats. PLUS they're not gonna be able to groom a middle-aged half elf wizard who works in the government. She'll want more for her money and call them out, but this scrawny street kid who just wants someone to pat him on the head and tell him he's special? Yeah, they can keep him on a leash forever. That's a good investment. They need to keep him around.

And, unfortunately, that was a mistake, because he read them for filth and usurped the shit out of them, which WIZARD HUBRIS STRIKES AGAIN.

[pretoriafics]

If I wasn't a goddamn werewolf

I simply needed to do something with Talia. I think the pack dynamics would be so wonderful with her, with Laura, and with Cora. Should I do a part 2? Let me know <3

Talia just came back from the dead, and she is just trying to figure out what is happening with her son. But when she met you, everything becomes clear. Word count: 1.757 Pairings: Reader x Derek Contain: Pure angst!!; Derek being a dick; Warnings: English is not my main language <3 PART 2 TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST

Things were a true mess these days. The starting point was a resurrection. Nobody knew exactly how Talia arose from the dead, but everyone was trying to find out. Well, after so many years out of the Beacon Hills life, Talia was trying to fix in and absorb what had happened during the time she was dead. Peter had tried and failed to kill his daughter Laura, Cora comes back to the city, and the Hale's had rebuilt their pack with three new members: Boyd, Isaac, and Erica. Derek was happy with the presence of Talia - actually, everyone was - but as a mom, she knew something was pretty wrong. He was being a little bit... sad.

Talia caught Derek thoughtful during the night several times. Sometimes he just simply took his car and disappear. He was also taking time for himself, staying alone with his own thoughts. Talia just simply couldn't figure out what the hell was going on with her son. But when she has begun to think that maybe all of that was just something created inside of a mother's mind, she finds out about everything.

Talia, Derek, and Laura were doing some groceries at a supermarket. Talia and Laura were chatting about the city while taking a few things when suddenly, both of them heard a female voice greeting Derek in the corridor next to them.

"Hey, Derek."

It was you. Laura recognized your voice immediately. Talia's older daughter took her mom's wrist and took her to spy Derek, making a sign with her finger on her lips to her mom stay quiet. When Talia and Laura look at you and Derek, they notice all the signs of a couple in love. Your hearts were beating fast, and your eyes were shining like a thousand stars. You were pretty anxious, like a teenager talking for the first time with your crush. And your voice was so sweet... The air seems to completely disappear from Derek's lungs.

But despite all of the signs of love, Derek didn't reply to you. Actually, seems like the soft expression of love simply disappeared from his face - which was pretty severe and cold now. His facial expressions seem to let you even more anxious. You begun to regret to had the stupid idea to talk with him.

"Uh..." You started to talk, with his lack of answer "I..."

Without saying a word to you, Derek takes a can from the shelves and, simply, walks away from you. It was like you even weren't there. And, God, it broke your heart. Alone in the corridor and without becoming aware that you were being looked closely for Laura and Talia, you let escape a tear that ran through your face. Trying to compose yourself, you breathe in and swipe the tear away. You need to be strong.

When you just simply walk away from that corridor, Talia looks at Laura, pretty confused.

"Is that his ex?"

"No, she is just a girl he met. They started to become friends, but things evolved. Derek had decided to fell apart from her when Kate threatened to do something with her. You know, she was trying to manipulate him. But Derek thought that she would be safer without him. She doesn't know anything about supernatural, so..."

"It's dangerous for her."

"Exactly."

"How long ago did this happen?"

Laura drums her fingers on her chin, thoughtfully.

"I think it's been a year..."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah, I know. You would love to meet her." Laura and Talia walk close to the candies session, looking at you. "Her name is (Y/N). She's a great girl."

"She seems like one."

Laura, Derek, and Talia were putting the groceries into the car - the place where Cora was waiting for her family. Talia was pretty thoughtful, thinking about the issue between you and Derek. Despite thinking that Derek did the right thing, she felt sad about the whole situation. It was pretty clear to her that Derek likes you a lot, and so do you.

Talia was torn from your thoughts when she listened to Cora's voice.

"Oh, I didn't saw her coming into the market."

Derek arches his eyebrows at his sister, walking in the driver's seat direction.

"Who?"

Cora indicates you with a nod in her head, and Derek's sight runs in your direction. Now Derek was looking at you for a distance he could saw you properly. Damn, you were so beautiful... He was pretty sure you did something with your hair, who made you more beautiful than ever. His heart began to race, and his face softened. You were like a sedative for him, with the power to take all of his angry away.

Unless you were next to another guy. In this case, you would stoke his fury just like the gasoline feeds fire. That was the case now.

You were walking in a man's direction, close to an expensive car. Despite being upset and heartbroken, you forced a smile on him, and he gave you a soft and slow kiss. Derek's chest vibrated in a low and threatening roar.

Laura looks at Cora.

"Who's that guy?"

"Well, he's her boyfriend. They're together a few months."

"He's hot. And seems like he's rich too."

Yeah, he was perfect. Derek didn't hate him just because he's the one who touches you now. Derek hates him because that guy was perfect, and better than him in so many aspects. He was rich, handsome, and a perfect gentleman. And he has you.

Oh, God... Derek wants so much for being under his skin for one day... Derek could simply forget all the supernatural bullshit and stay with you without worries. Damn, he wants so much to touch you again and kiss you again. He wants so much to say to you how beautiful you were with whatever you did with your hair, how you smell good, and how sorry he is for hurting you because he would never do that if it weren't for your own good.

If Derek wasn't a goddamn werewolf, he could take that vacation on Hawaii with you that you wanted so much. If he wasn't a goddamn werewolf, he could wake up by your side in the morning - something he never was able to do because of all the supernatural crap in the city. Derek could wake you up with kisses and breakfast in the bed too. If he wasn't a goddamn werewolf, he would take you to live with him on his loft. You would never cry of sadness, just of happiness.

If he wasn't a goddamn werewolf, Derek would give you a ring and would ask if you want to be Mrs. Hale.

Instead of all of it, Derek was forced to broke your heart for your own protection. He was forced to tell you not to talk with him anymore because he never felt anything for you. You were nothing more than a one-night stand, his little toy.

Derek remembers that day like it was yesterday. You were crying like never before while you listened to his sharp words.

"What do I did with you that made you thought you were so special?"

"You are nothing to me."

"I just wanted some fun. You can't blame me."

"Stop acting like a stuping teenager in love!"

It was hurtful to say those words to you. None of them were true. Derek just wanted you to hate him as much as someone could hate. With it, you would stay away from him and all of the danger. In fact, you said that night those three words he wanted you to tell him.

"I hate you!" You yelled, with your face wet in tears. "You are the biggest mistake I could ever make in my entire life!"

Despite saying horrible things to you that had hurt Derek as hell, your words hurt as much as his own. But even with all the emotions conflicting inside himself, Derek even could hear your heartbeat failing. It was the sound of your lie.

Despite all of that, you didn't hate him. You didn't think he was the biggest mistake of your like.

That broke him even more.

Derek just wants to feel you in his arms again and say to you how much he loves you - because, yeah, he really loves you, and he really thinks you are the one. Instead of it, he gives up on your love to keep you alive and safe.

Suddenly, Derek listens to your boyfriend talk with you. He was still with his face close to yours.

"I'm so lucky to have you as my girl." Your boyfriend smiles at you "I love you."

Your heart ached one more time that day. Oh, if those words were from Derek's mouth... But no, you think he hates you. Determined to move on and forget about Hale, you force a smile on your boyfriend.

"I love you too."

Your heartbeat sound failed, and the Hale family on another side of the parking lot could hear your lie. You didn't love your boyfriend but, oh, you really wish you could. He was perfect.

However, you always thought about how boring perfection was and, actually, you would love to be imperfect with Derek.

Your boyfriend gives you a sweet smile and gets into his expensive car. You walk towards the passenger's seat door and, before getting into the car, you look in Derek's direction.

He was looking at you with those beautiful and glacial green eyes. It was pretty hard to pretend he didn't love you because he does so much. While Talia was watching the entire situation, she noticed that yours and Derek's eyes were yelling a silent, dangerous, and forbidden I love you - the one who could let anyone with no air in their lungs.

Then, you breathe in, trying to contain yourself. You got into the car and, then, you and your boyfriend were leaving the parking lot and Derek's sight. If getting away from him and being in another man's arms meant you were safe, then Derek could handle it. However, after looking at the whole situation, Talia was not well with it. Well, Laura and Cora weren't either. They knew about his brother's sincere feelings, and Talia knew it that moment either. The gears inside her brain were already working to find a solution for all of that.

Derek, however, could only think of how much you would never really be his.

[jayoctodot]

The Silent Patient vs The Maidens

I will start by saying that I understand the appeal of these novels as page-turners. They are easy to read and if you want a twisty reveal at the end, you will probably be entertained and satisfied. That being said, I am SO CONFUSED by the near-universal adoration of The Silent Patient and the reasonably positive reception of The Maidens. The weaknesses of the two are strikingly similar, as well, which doesn’t give me much hope of seeing improvement from this guy, though I am intrigued to see whether he keeps repeating the same (apparently successful!!) patterns. These books were at least super fun to hate.

(For context, I read The Maidens for a bookclub I'm in, because several of the members had read and loved The Silent Patient, and one of them gave me a copy of the latter to read on my own time. I loathed The Maidens and then read The SP for comparative purposes. And because I'm a masochist, apparently.)

SPOILER WARNING! Do not read on unless you've finished both books (or unless you care not for spoilers). Sorry if it gets a bit shouty.

Here are the similar weaknesses I noticed in both:

PSEUDO-PSYCHOLOGY

-> Weirdly similar “group therapy” scenes early on where a cartoonishly unstable patient arrives late, disrupts the meeting by throwing something into the middle of the circle, and is asked to join the group after the therapist(s) speechify on the importance of boundaries (HA! None of these therapists would know an appropriate boundary if it kicked them in the ass) and debate whether to “allow” the patient to join. Both scenes are so transparent in their design to establish the credibility/legitimacy of the narrators as therapists, but instead both Theo and Mariana come off as super patronizing. The protagonists are less and less believable as therapists at the stories progress (though at least Theo’s incompetence is explained away by the “twist” at the end; Mariana, on the other hand, is confronted in the opening pages of the novel by a patient who has self-harmed PRETTY extensively, and rather than ensure he get proper medical attention, she essentially throws him a first aid kit and tosses him out the door so she can pour herself a glass of wine and call her niece... and it devolves from there).

-> Ongoing insistence throughout the narrative that one’s childhood trauma entirely explains the warped/dysfunctional way a character behaves or views the world, which is why the books go out of their way to give EVERY potentially violent character a traumatic childhood; when Theo insists that no one ever became an abuser who hadn’t been abused themselves, I wanted to throw the book across the room. (That is a MYTH, SIR. GET OUT OF HERE WITH YOUR ARMCHAIR PSYCHOLOGY.)

-> Female murderers whose pathology boils down to “history of depression” and “traumatized by a male loved one/family member.” Because, as we all know, depression + abuse = murderer!

-> The “therapy” depicted in both books is laughable and so so unrealistic, mostly because neither narrators function as therapists so much as incompetent detectives, obsessively pursuing a case they have no place pursuing (or skill to pursue - both just happen across every clue mostly by way of clunky conversation with all the people who can provide precisely the snippet of info to send them along to the next person, and the next… until all is revealed in a tired, cliched “twist”). Their constant Psych 101 asides were so tiresome and weirdly dated (also, the constant harping on countertransference got so ridiculous that at one point during "therapy" Theo literally attributes his headache and a particular emotion he feels to Alicia, as though the contents of her head are being broadcast directly into his mind... and I'm PRETTY SURE that's not how it works???)

CHARACTERS

-> Psychotherapist narrators with abusive fathers and pretensions of being Sherlock Holmes, which results in both characters crossing ALL KINDS of ethical lines as they invade the personal lives of everyone even tangentially connected to their cases (and, in Theo's case, violate all kinds of patient confidentiality. Yeah, yeah, by the end, that's the least of his offenses, but before you get there, it's baffling that NO ONE is calling him out on this).

-> All female characters are either elderly with hilariously bad advice, monstrous hulking brutes, or beautiful bitches (except for ~MARIANA~, who is Bella Swan-esque in her unawareness of her own attractiveness, despite multiple men trying to get with her almost immediately after meeting her. I'm so tired of beautiful female characters being oblivious to their own hotness. Are we meant to believe all mirrors and male attention have escaped their notice? If it’s to make them “relatable,” this tactic really fails with me).

-> All characters of color are shallow, cartoonish side characters, and most of them are depicted as unsympathetic minor antagonists (the Sikh Chief Inspector in The Maidens continuously drinks tea from an ever-present thermos, and his only other notable characteristic is his instant dislike of Mariana, whom he VERY RIGHTLY warns to stay out of the investigation that she is VERY MUCH compromising… the Caribbean manager of the Grove is universally disliked by her staff for enforcing stricter safety regulations at the bafflingly poorly run mental institution, because HOW DARE SHE. There's a very clear vibe that we're supposed to dislike these characters and share the protagonists' indignation, but honestly Sangha/Stephanie were completely in the right for trying to shut down their wildly inappropriate investigations).

-> "Working class" characters (or basically anyone excluded from the comfortably upper-crust, educated main cadre of characters) are few and far between in both stories, but when they show up, he depicts them as such caricatures. We got Elsie the pathologically lying housekeeper in the Maidens, who is enticed to share her bullshit with cake, and then a TOOTHLESS LEPRECHAUN DEALING DRUGS UNDER A BRIDGE in the SP. I kid you not, a man described as having the body of a child, the face of Father Time, and no front teeth, emerges from beneath a bridge and offers to sell Theo some "grass." I was dyinggg.

-> There are no characters to root for. Anywhere. Partly because they’re all so thinly drawn — and because we’re clearly supposed to view almost ALL of them as potential suspects, so they’re ALL weird, creepy, or incompetent in some way.

-> The flimsiest of flimsy motives, both for the narrators and the murderers. Theo fully would have gotten away with his involvement in the murder if he hadn't gone out of his way to work at the Grove and "treat" Alicia and his justification for doing so is pretty weak; his rapid descent into stalking and murder fantasy and his random ass decision to "expose" Alicia's husband as a cheater with a spur-of-the-moment home invasion and staged attempted homicide is ONLY justified if the reader hand waves it away as WELP, HE'S CRAZY, I GUESS (after all, he DID have an abusive father and a history of mental illness, and in Michaelides novels, that's ALL YOU NEED to become a violent psycho). I guess we're lucky Mariana didn't also start dropping bodies (because the logic of his fictional universe says she should definitely be a murderer by now... maybe that'll be his Maidens sequel?). But she especially had NO reason to randomly turn detective - and she kept trying to justify it by saying she needed to re-enter the world or that Sebastian would want her to (??), even though she had no background in criminal psychology... or even a particular fondness for mysteries (really, I would've accepted ANYTHING to explain her dogged obsession with the case. WHY were Sebastian and Zoe so certain she would insert herself into the investigation just because one of Zoe's friends was the first victim? WHY?). As for Zoe and Alicia, their motives are mere suggestions: they were both abused and manipulated, and voila! Slippery slope to murder.

WRITING STYLE

-> Incessant allusions to Greek tragedy and myth, apparently to provide a sophisticated gloss over the bare-bones writing style, which opts more for telling than showing and frequently indulges in hilariously bizarre analogies. Credit where credit is due — the references to Greek myth are less clunky in the SP, and I liked learning about the Alcestis play/myth, which I hadn’t heard of before - but OMG the entire characterization of Fosca, who we are meant to believe is a professor of Greek tragedy at one of the most respected universities on the planet, is just absurd. His "lecture" on the liminal in Greek tragedy is essentially the Wikipedia page on the Eleusinian Mysteries capped off with some Hallmark-card carpe diem crap. The lecture hall responds with raucous applause, clearly never having heard such vague genius bullshit before.

-> Super clunky and amateurish narrative device of interludes written by another character; Sebastian’s letter reads like a mashup of Dexter monologues and Clarice’s memory of the screaming sheep, but by FAR the worse offender is Alicia’s diary, where we’re supposed to believe she painstakingly recorded ENTIRE CONVERSATIONS, BEAT-BY-BEAT DIALOGUE, even when she’s just been DRUGGED TO THE GILLS with morphine and has mere moments of consciousness left… and even before that, she literally takes the time to write “He's trying the windows and doors! ...Someone’s inside! Someone’s inside the house! ETC ETC” when she thinks her stalker has broken in downstairs. WHO DOES THAT?)

-> Speaking of dialogue, the dialogue is so bad. Based on his bio, Michaelides got a degree in screenwriting, which makes his terrible dialogue even more baffling.

-> HILARIOUSLY rendered voyeur scenes where the narrators spy on couples having sex. Such unintentionally awkward descriptions. First we had Kathy’s climax sounds through the trees and then the bowler hat carefully placed on a tombstone before the gatekeeper plows a student. Again, I died.

PLOT/"TWIST"

-> The CONSTANT red herrings make for such an exhausting read. Michaelides drops anvils with almost every character that are so obviously meant to designate them as suspects in our minds. There is absolutely no subtlety in his misdirections.

-> The “crossover” scene between the SP and The Maidens makes no sense - when in the timeline does Mariana’s story overlap with Theo’s? They confer just before Theo starts working at the Grove, obviously (though Mariana appears to be the one who alerts Theo to the job opening there? Whereas in the SP, Theo has been obsessively tracking Alicia since the murder and had already planned to apply to work there?), but then are we supposed to believe that while Theo has been psychotically pursuing his warped quest to “help” Alicia, he’s also been diligently treating Zoe, so invested in her case that he repeatedly reaches out to Mariana to get her to visit Zoe and even writes Mariana a lengthy letter to convince her to do so??? And then a couple days after The Maidens ends, Theo is arrested???

-> But the thing I really did hate the most is how Michaelides treats his female murderers (who are both also victims themselves) as mere means to deploy a “twist”; there’s no moment spared to encourage our sympathy for Zoe, who was groomed and manipulated by the only trusted father figure in her life, and even after spending a decent amount of time getting to know Alicia via her ridiculous diary, where it’s so apparent that she’s been demeaned, objectified, manipulated, gaslit, and/or used by EVERY man in her life, she’s sent packing to spend the rest of her days in a coma… HOW much more satisfying would it have been for her to succeed in exposing Theo and reclaiming her voice? But no, she basically rolls over when he comes to finish her off (SPEAKING OF — ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THERE ARE NO SECURITY CAMERAS IN THIS INSTITUTE FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE????), writes one last diary entry, and drifts off forever. And then a couple pages of nothing later, the story is over. GOODNIGHT, ALICIA!

Both books kept me rolling throughout (by which I mean eye-rolling but also rotfl). Maybe I will check out his next effort — I’m morbidly curious what he’ll turn out. It does leave me wondering whether I should give up on thriller novels entirely, though. Are many of the weaknesses of these novels just characteristic of the genre? Maybe I'm just holding these books to unfair standards? I'm mostly only familiar with thriller films — many of which I think are amazing — but maybe you can get away with more in a film than you can in a novel.

...I really only intended to write a handful of bullet points, but more and more kept coming to mind as I wrote, to the point where subheadings became necessary. Whoopsie.

[princecharmingmendes]

Heart by Heart | Chapter X | Raul Mendes

                                               *secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Hi, this chapter is finally here, it's a bit shorter, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for that long anymore and on the cliffhanger, and this was also important for the story development. Anyway, this is the tenth chapter of this series, you can find the first ones here. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don’t feel comfortable with the contents listed on the “warnings” section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the “fic rec” hashtag on my blog. Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like. Happy Reading! 

                                                previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 2K+

*Warnings: cursing, violence towards the reader, blood, kidnapping, hostage situation, angst.

Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings.

*Posted: September 16th, 2021.

                                                  -*-

Raul was a mess as soon as he was able to get into an empty room. 

He allowed himself to finally let the severity of the situation hit him. He had no idea where Y/N and Tom were, if they were alright or what could Geonoff could possibly win with this. He certainly would’ve tried blackmailing them to get something in return of the two agents he had in his hands. 

He’s been pacing back and forth in the tiny room as he tried to remain calm enough to keep his rationality so he could still be helpful. Raul just wanted to punch his way into that base and get the kid and his girl back, but he knew that was completely stupid, even for him. He could practically see the frown on Y/N’s face if she ever heard his brilliant idea, and the vision alone was almost enough to bring him to tears. Instead he shook his head, knowing that letting his feelings take control would only be a waste of time in this situation, and that’s something he learned a long time ago when he first started working with his best friend. 

She was a really rational, and maybe even a bit cold on the field. Always with a sharp remark on the tip of her tongue and a thousand of extra plans in case something failed, she could easily slip into the role of the Professor in Money Heist. Constantly analyzing and thinking. And while she was clearly the brain of their duo, Raul was clearly the heart, not thinking twice before jumping head first to save someone or get and intel. And that’s why they worked so well, he pushed her to be more spontaneous while she kept him in his place (and alive) most of the time. 

He needed her more than ever right now. 

The sound of hushed whispers and two pairs of shoes approaching him, made Raul sharply move in the direction of the door, still on edge, and waiting for it to reveal his visitors. As soon as the handle turned, he was met with his triplet and Celine wearing the same saddened and worried expressions. He might’ve come down to help with the investigation as fast as he learned about his best friend. 

Peter sighed taking in the sight of his brother. Raul looked like a lost puppy in distress, eyes on his face but his mind was clearly somewhere else, shoulders sagged and curls a mess from the constant nervous tugging habit he had. One look was enough for him to know he was carrying all the guilt and having no clue how to fix it. It’s the same look he gave his younger self when he accidentally broke his brand knew camera. 

“We’re going to find them” was the first thing he said and Raul nodded, looking unconvinced “It’s not your fault” he then added and at that, his gaze finally seemed to snap into place as he stared his brother dead in the eye. 

“Whose fault is it then?” his voice sounded a lot smaller and less threatening than he pictured. 

“Geonoff’s” Celine mumbled “but not yours, you did what was best, what was right”

Raul shook his head in response, mumbling a quiet ‘yeah, right’ under his breath, but Celine was quick to take three steps closing the distance between them and placing both hands on his shoulders. 

“Cut this shit right now” she snapped, catching both him and Peter by surprise “you and I both know I’m not your biggest fan and never truly got what everyone else saw in you, but this past months changed my perspective of things and you’re actually a decent person, a great friend and an amazing agent, and you did the right thing” she said squeezing his shoulder for great measure “and you and I both know Y/N would’ve wanted you to do the same thing, she’d be proud of you”

Raul nodded slowly and Celine let him go at that, as he was still processing her words. Peter finally reached his brother, placing his hand on his shoulder as he turned to face him “I know you’re going through a lot right now, but we need you to help us find her, we need you to hold on a bit and try to think of the places they could possibly take her, everything you heard  or saw on the past month is useful”

He nodded again “yeah, okay, I can do that”

“Good, come with me then” Peter said patting his brother’s back “she’ll come back to us, you and I know her enough to know she’s probably making their life a living hell”

Raul snorted a little laugh, that didn’t quite reach his eyes and nodded along, as they dragged him back into the main room. He needed to do what Y/N would in his place, shut his feelings off and analyze every every they took.

                                                 -*-

Y/N starts slowing coming back into her senses, feeling her muscles burning, her arms stiff and head hurting, the dark place she was situated doing little to help her regain her memories. She tried looking around to see if she could find something useful to recognize the place, only noticing a slim frame still unconscious close to her. The person had its back to her, but from their clothes and body type, she was able to recognize them as Tommy.

Tommy who was still breathing and almost at arms reach.

That was a good sign, or as good as it could be in this situation. But he was there, breathing and no signs of big blood loss around them, so no external wounds that needed to be taken care of urgently. She tried to reach for him, but the heavy chains attaching her wrists to the cobblestone floor kept her in place.

She tried locating their belongings, or anything that could help them get out of there, but it was all missing. Raul was also nowhere in sight, which probably meant he wasn’t there and probably the info was delivered safely. At least that’s what she hopped with no signs of him around them. 

There? Where the hell was there?

That’s when it finally clicked to her, she had no idea where they were or how long was she out. They could be across the ocean as far as she was concerned. She had to get them out of there. But before she could start planning their way out with absolutely nothing and Tommy still out, she heard the grating of the old and rusty hinges coming from the only way in and out of that room, a heavy iron door. 

Coming from the source of noise that snatched her attention was the man responsible for all of this. Geonoff Reyes himself. Wearing a button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled back, and a pair of dress pants, and a smug look on his face. He took lazy long strides getting close to her, crouching down in front of her. 

Geonoff smirked at her “You know, it’s pretty hard to fool me and you almost got away with it, if it weren’t for your stupid boss you’d be home by now”

Y/N just blinked at him, a completely neutral facial expression on as she stared up at him, making him tsk.

“By the way, how is your little boyfriend? Does he know this relationship is just an act or you manipulate him as well?” he asked and she didn’t even flinch at his statement, noticing that her silence was doing more at getting him upset than clapping back “it must be sad, being such a pathetic agent and letting his little girl and friend get caught as he fled, and in the end discovering this was one sided”

Her gaze shifted quickly to Tommy and then back to Geonoff’s face, that was too close to hers for her taste “don’t worry, he’ll live for now, need him to get you to cooperate” and Y/N felt a little lighter knowing that, taking all the self control she had to not let that show on her face “you know they’ll never find you, right? Thought about sending a little photo as a gift for them, but might do it whenever we move to our next location, better lighting and stuff”

“What do you want?” her voice was hoarse, but she was able to keep her tone steady enough to not seem frightened.

“Oh, sugar, missed that sweet voice of yours, it matches your pretty face, just wish I could see that beautiful smile again, but we’ll get to that” he said patting her cheek with his long fingers, making her insides turn in disgust and she had to swallow the sudden wave of nausea down “I want something simple, just know all the info you’ve been feeding your precious little team for the past weeks, you’re smart enough knowing I wouldn’t mind hurting you to get what I want”

Y/N only stared back at him watching his brow twitch in annoyance “don’t want to hurt your pretty face, so cooperate with me and I might even let you go safely”

But her silent response seemed to be enough for him to loose it, because he took a deep breath before slapping his hand across her face for the first time. The pure shock of the action almost made her react, but she held her face up as she kept staring at him, her face burning but she wouldn’t give him the little taste of a small victory at breaking her neutral mask of indifference. 

“This could be so easy” he mumbled slapping the other side a little harder “you didn’t have to do this, you could be free by now” the third one was stronger than she was expecting, making her face turn with the pure force of it, the loud sound coming from the aggression echoing on the empty room and down the large corridor, the echo making her realize there wasn’t much down where they were, mostly just blank empty walls without doors to divide the sound. 

“What is it? Anything you’d like to say?” he asked grabbing her chin and yanking her face to look up at him, but her mouth remained closed “well, your choice”

After a few consecutive hits, one being so strong making her face collide with the wall when it turned, and she felt the sticky liquid running down her face. Her skin probably breaking with the brisk contact with the stone wall, cutting her cheek in the process. The seemed to please him, since he let out a loud boisterous laugh, making her lean her head so he could see it better mumbling a quiet “vicious bitch” under his breath “stop fighting back” before going back to it. 

After a couple more minutes, her right cheek numb already, Geonoff said grabbing her face roughly in his hands, forcing her to look up at him “Come on, sugar, you’re really stressing me out here”

“I’m truly sorry you had to kidnap and keep two agents hostage to try and prove you’re better than your sister” she said blinking at him monotonously and that seemed to hit a nerve, because Geonoff squeezed her face harder in his palms before pushing her head against the wall. 

Y/N felt her limbs giving out as her vision got blurry, her vision going dark before she felt her body leaning to her side and hitting the floor with a dull thud. The sound of shoes hitting against the rocks and the door being shut closed again a sign that the man lost his patience and left them behind. She tried fighting the numbness getting ahold of her body, but ended up succumbing at the end. 

The sounds of waves breaking somewhere near them and the constant throbbing of her head dragging her back into unconsciousness. 

                                                  -*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

[starshipsofstarlord]

What Happens in Morocco , Stays in Morocco | Luke Skins

Warnings; drug use, mentions of genitalia, flirting, nudity, mentions of sex, making out

The boys awaited as the girls climbed down into the ‘shower’, which in reality was an empty pool. The girls covered their bodies with their arms, aware of the peering, interested eyes that gazed upon their curves and sides.

“It’s not so bad.” Y/n spoke as it was her turn, enjoying the combined sensations of the sun’s ambient glare and the trickling of the hose. “I find it to be quite freeing, after all we were all born naked, there’s no reason that any of us should be ashamed of seeing one another in such a natural state.

As Rich went to turn to cast a peek at the nude young woman, Grace lightly hit his arm, scolding him. He rubbed the skin, second to keep his eyes in the opposite direction. “It’s honestly fine guys. There’s no reason for anyone to be embarrassed, I mean Alo has a massive cock, and that isn’t meant to sexualise him. Everyone and their bodies are different, and that is more than okay, in fact, it is just lovely.”

“She’s high as fuck.” Nick sighed, no one exactly surprised by his conclusion. Even in Bristol, the girl was resourceful, after all she had learnt from the best. Her name was Cassie, and whilst she wasn’t around anymore, having disappeared, y/n still felt her presence. It was like a mother’s guidance, walking her though the plains of liked, and into the warm embrace of this vacation.

“Time’s over.” Frankie informed the girl, who carelessly climbed up the rail, towards her towel that was laying on one of the sunbeds, elegantly wrapping the small material around her body, leaving little to the imagination.

“Do you hear that?” Y/n asked the gang, her head curiously tilting at the sound of an appearing engine. Her question was granted no answer as a car pulled up, a pack of lads getting out and walking towards the new tourists. “Hi!” She exclaimed, her arm raising in a wave as her towel shivered a bit around her chest.

It averted the attention of the boys towards her silhouette, Frankie could only scoff, coming to wrap her arms around her spaced out friend and try and walk her out of their eyeline. But y/n poured, even more so as her eyes scanned her new options.

There were plenty of options for the Bristol girl, however the leader of the quipped and well dressed group was practically a wet dream to her. He had these expressive eyes, that were hazed in intrigue as they ran up the lengths of her exposed legs. She wanted him, even it be only for a night.

Her kid wasn’t clear, but that was, and then his transfixed perspective landed upon her pupils, and he recognised their glazing far too well. “I think your friend may be a little over her own head.” He spoke, freeing the information that he was not from around here, and that he was like them.

“We’re well aware.” Mini protectively bit back, they had met this lot prior, when y/n was meditating in her room and inhaling the fumes of a godsend grace. “And we can handle it, so please, to put it simply, fuck off.”

“Do you want us to fuck off darling?” He navigated his choice of words towards the y/h/c girl, his head shifting as he stalked slowly towards her like a predator. Y/n giggled, seeing his faded outline, and raising her head to beam at the sheltering sky.

“I wouldn’t mind if one of you were to fuck me. It was my intention to get with a Moroccan anyways.” Rich sighed at her shortage of neurons, he knew how weed and whatever else she had consumed worked. He took hits quite a bit, but it appeared as though y/n lived off the plantation, he had heard the rumours of her intellect, but he had never met them face to face, because she was always smoking something or popping pills.

The friends of the blonde whistled at her flirtatious advances, one also chuckling at her misinterpretation, but saying nothing to correct her. Luke went to speak, however was interrupted by the farm boy, who could not help himself but be inclined to correct her.

“He’s British y/n/n.” Alo facepslmed, watching as her face creased in confusion. “Whatever.” He sight, knowing that he would not be able to get through to her.

“Let’s go and get you some water, yeah?” Grace managed to convince her to come inside of the small building that they had rented, which had not at all met any of their expectations. It was a bit of a shithole, and there wasn’t enough room for everybody, but they had managed to escape Bristol for the summer, and that was the main thing.

“Bring her around later, she seems fun.” Luke smirked, walking backwards as he thought of the girl that stood out amongst the others. “And the rest of you can come to the party too, you know, so you don’t miss your little bubble head too much.”

He was slow to stalk away, however to the relief of the entire group, he eventually did. “I don’t know about you guys, but a party does sound like fun.” Mini prompted, which was how they had ended up in another rental place, with a conjunction of bodies pacy any route inside.

Luke was fast to see the newbies wondering in the mazes of people. But he cared not for the presence of the others, only got the one airy girl. He noticed keenly how she snuck off from the herd of her friend, and ended up overlooking the voyage of trees and lights of the town.

“You want to be careful around here.” He spoke, although the girl did not turn, instead she swayed her head to the sound of his voice, only glancing when he had come to stand beside her. “There’s a lot of dangerous people around here.”

“And I suppose that you’re one of them.” She observed with her flickering eyes, licking her lips as she spoke whatever came to mind. “Because I don’t care, I like adventure. The thrill of something is like sitting on a rollercoaster, however even if you think yourself as strong as manipulative, I’m not interested. Alo told me that you’re not actually from here.”

“Well I’m not going to lie and say that I am, but I have something that may sweeten the deal and entice your impulses.” He pulled a clear bag from his pocket, the white pills rattling around inside. Her pupils widened at the sight, her tongue sticking out in hunger for them. “One kiss, and they’re all yours.”

Luke hardly had a moment to breathe before she pushed their mouths togegher, her tongue broke inside of his mouth, drunkenly swirling inside and counting his teeth. He shut his eyes, enjoying the moment , and dropping the product to rake his fingers through her messy hair.

She became forgetful of the drugs, continuously engaged in a primal desire of lust, and Luke was her victim. There was no escape, even when this holiday was over, for they eoukd both return to the same city, oblivious to the footprints of the other.

But for now, the inevitable and impending notion of having to go home didn’t matter, for they temporarily had this freedom, and were to lull in it until the sun rose.

[kashimos-hajime]

sawdust and plastic | g.t.

summary: you learn two things from your first real fight with goro. 1) he apologizes through cooking. 2) he hates it when they argue.

WARNINGS: spoilers for the gimme danger main job, swearing, slight angst, theye just communicating pairing: goro takemura x fem!street-kid!v word count: 2.2k

a/n: written with a fem!street-kid v who used to be a corpo kid. also dont yell at me but i rearranged v's apartment so the couch goes on all 3 sides bc comfortable :^) crossposted on ao3! enjoy :) 

part of the tales of a two-bit thief series

Sitting down on the couch, you kick up your feet for the first time in what you feel like has been ages. From Jackson Plains to reconnaissance on the Arasaka warehouse, you haven’t eaten shit besides the yakitori Takemura had ordered at that booth which already felt like ages ago. It’d been good—better than the trash you’ve eaten as a kid so you don’t really get picky—but you can’t help but recall the disgust on Takemura’s face when he had taken a single bite.

“Sawdust and plastic.”

You snort, running hands over your face and tilting your head back. Stupid fucking Japanese man with an endearing sense of dry-humour and… zero tolerance for your cheeky smiles. 

Then he had to go ahead and bring up Jack.

His words, cold, callous, echo in your skull like a goddamn radio and you squeeze your eyes tight, raking your hands down your face and melting into the couch. No matter how much you wanna stop it, you can’t help hearing it over and over and over.

Grabbing the remote, you’re about to switch on a channel in hopes you catch something that cna take your mind off everything when there’s a knock on your door.

For a moment, you truly debate telling them to fuck off but then, there is a pause.

“V.”

Eyes widening, your body goes rigid at the sound of his voice.

“V, let me in before I look anymore foolish.”

In the back of your head, you tempt the idea of just leaving him out there, pretending like you’ve fallen asleep, but then you get up anyway against your better judgement. You drag your feet over the floor, picking up old takeout boxes you haven’t had time to clean up and tossing clothes into a hamper to make your apartment look more like an organized mess than the dumpster fire you know Takemura will scold you for.

When you reach the door, you let him in without a word and you note the bags he holds on, hoisting them over to your living room counter.

“What’s this?” you question wearily. “Goro, I’m not hungry.”

“I realized I must apologize for my harsh words.” Beginning to pull out the groceries, you walk over and peer inside the bag, frowning. All the stuff inside is cheap synth shit, nothing you haven’t eaten before, but you’re still confused as to what’s going on since you don’t exactly have a kitchen in your place, but then out of one of the thicker bags, Takemura pulls out a big box.

“For saying them?”

“Yes." He sets the box down before continuing with groceries. “Earlier, I told you if I had time and resources, I would cook onigiri.”

“With cod, or grilled salmon. Or umeboshi plums, because they were Saburo’s favourite,” you finish and he sends you a look that could’ve been a smile if his lips had curved more and his eyes meant it. “I remember.” Helping him with the big box, you cut it open and find a rice cooker within. Eyeing the contraption with an arched eyebrow, you can’t help but ask: “Where’d you find this stuff?”

“It was difficult. I had to lower my standards.” 

“Lowering standards,” you echo dryly, unable to help your empty smile. “Yeah. We do that a lot in grand ole NC.” He doesn’t seem amused by you even trying to help as you sit down on the couch, twist to watch him work. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

“I am cooking to apologize. It would not be honourable for you to help me,” he replies shortly and you nod to yourself, turning back around to watch the news. Nothing about a break-in with the floats, nothing at all indicating… anything.

For some reason, it makes you uneasy. The last time you snuck into an Arasaka building, everything went to shit and it made its mark. The lack of visible ripples makes you feel like nothing’s happened at all. Like it’s all been a fever dream, and you and Takemura didn’t sit on that roof for hours, watching the cat, just… talking.

Jesus, you need to get laid.

“Still don’t know why you bother cooking,” you say. Takemura noticeably stiffens and even though you don’t see it, you can almost feel the way he manipulates the air he stands in. He has that power—pure corpo power—and you clench your jaw. “Why waste time on someone so lazy as me?”

“V—"

“Nah, my bad. Arrogant. Hell, you probably see all the takeout around here and think I’m taking some easy route to food.” The bitterness is enough to puncture holes in steel as you stare blankly at the screen. “After all, I dirty my hands for money,” you quote. Your chest tightens as you hear his voice echo in yours, the way he had said it so coldly. Stomach turning, you shake your head. “Not in the name of some fucking principles.”

There’s a silence on his end and you close your eyes, swallowing through the bruising in your throat, a telltale sign you’re holding back tears. Just the mention of Jackie makes you want to spiral and you take a deep breath, trying not to react.

For the first time, you think Johnny might be right.

“Damn right, I am,” a voice says and you open your eyes, gaze fluttering to the side to see Johnny lounging against your couch. You turn around to see Takemura’s moved to the bathroom, probably to clean rice… however the fuck you make onigiri. You don’t know. You’re too tired to care about food, or feelings, or anything. “Never can trust a corpo. They all want one thing.”

“I don’t need to remind you that I was a corpo kid, do I?”

“Not anymore. It’s about principles.” Johnny’s tone is wry and you scowl at him. “What? If there’s one thing you might be able to relate to is that you both have ‘em. His might be wrong as shit, but…”

“Yeah, whatever.” 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna forgive him. This guy’s got you wrong, V. You don’t waste time on people like that.”

“I don’t have time to stay angry with him,” you argue. “The fact is, I’m dying and he’s gonna be the only one who can save me.” Johnny sits up straight, leaning on his knees and you sigh, shaking your head. Resting your arm along the back of the couch, you fit your hand to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fuck.”

“Stop. Don’t do it, V. It’s not worth it,” Johnny warns, standing up and you wrench your gaze up as you shift your feet on the floor and lean forward, burying your face in your hands. “I can feel everything you are feeling, and if I have to deal with your indecisive debates on whether or not it’s worth it to become attached to this corp piece of shit, I’ll kill myself.”

“You’re already dead, Johnny.”

“Let me live a little.” He stands and edges around you as if he were real and you rest your chin in your palms, watching as his holographic imagine crosses you before glitching back into view again across the table. He sits down. “The truth is, you’re gonna have a hell of a problem.”

“I know.”

“So, stop.” Johnny says it like it’s so easy and you chew on your cheek as the faucet turns off and you turn around to see Takemura begin to leave your bathroom. His pale eyes catch yours and you turn around only to see your brain tumour’s gone and left you alone. It’s eerily quiet in your head and you stand, clearing your throat.

Takemura slips the clean rice into the rice cooker before closing it and you cross your arms below your breasts, squeezing yourself tightly. You feel bare in your clothes despite wearing your scuffed jacket. He regards you warily, and then he sighs, gesturing to the couch—a silent ask.

 You nod, stepping back and letting him take where you were sitting earlier. You retreat across from him, where Johnny was sitting and he glances around your apartment. You wonder if he’s judging even more of you, but then he looks into his hands, swallowing visibly. 

“V—"

“You’re not the only one with principles. Just because I kill for money don't mean I'd do anything for it,” you begin coldly, leaning back and studying him. “And nothing about my life has been easy. When I said you did what you had to do to keep food on the table, that wasn’t me judging you. That was me getting it, alright, Goro?” His eyes meet yours and you arch an eyebrow, scoffing. “Not my problem if you don’t believe me. Yeah, I oppose corps, because they ruined my life, and so many other people’s lives no one can count 'em, but that doesn't mean you're any better than me. You don’t get to make assumptions about me. You never get to make assumptions about Jackie.That is all I have to say.”

He nods, accepting your harsh tone and you bite your tongue, trying not to burn down the bridge anymore than you need to as you prop a foot up against the table. Takemura doesn't say anything for a hot moment and you think you've wasted your time. Your knee jiggles. He doesn't even look at you.

Then: “I must again say that we are both still grieving. We ache to lash out. That is why I said what I said, and why, I presume, you say what you say.” He steeples his fingers and regards you with those eyes, gorgeous in their own right. “I understand what I said was callous. You have been nothing but understanding to my own loss.”

“No shit.”

“And I understand Mr. Welles was your friend.”

“He was like my brother,” you correct icily. “He’s been there for me since the beginning, I—I can’t forgive you saying something like that about him so easily, Goro.”

He dips his head. “I understand. It is why I cook for you. It is how I best express myself." The corner of his mouth tugs up faintly in a mirthless facsimile of a smile before he exhales sharply through his nose, looking at you again. "I confess I have not had time recently to cook, but I will do my best.” Johnny’s link comes to life at the mention and your own stomach squirms silently. “We are in this together, V. I do not wish for you to be angry at me.”

“Don’t do it, V. Don’t take it.”

“Fuck off, Johnny. I’m starving.” Aloud, you say: “I’ll be angry for a while. Just… let me sleep on it and we'll see from there.” He nods and you let your arms fall to your sides as you sit up. “It’s been a long few days, so I just… I just want to not think about anything for a while, you know?”

“I understand.”

He says that a lot, you notice. 

“Thank you for apologizing, at least,” you continue grudgingly. “Thanks.” You stand and gesture vaguely around the place. “Make yourself at home. I’m… I’m going to shower and scrub this grime off.” Dried blood, sweat, dirt, et cetera. He nods and stands as well, returning to the tiny cooking station he’s made for himself. You head to your closet, managing to pick out a clean shirt that’s a bit big and a jacket you ripped off a 6th Street goon a few weeks back. You just picked it up from the cleaners.

Heading for the bathroom, you set your crap on the toilet cover before poking your head out. Spotting Takemura sitting in front of the table, carefully sharpening a knife, you wait until he’s noticed you staring and he prompts you silently to ask.

“How’d you even know where I live, anyway?” 

He turns his gaze back on the blade.

“Ms. Olszewski marked it in my map, should the need arise.”

“This was a need?” you ask, curiously sardonic. Takemura doesn’t smile back and again, you get that impression he either doesn’t know how or he doesn’t do it often enough to remember. For some reason, that makes you sad. "Could've left it well enough alone. You know that."

“Oh, come on, V,” Johnny murmurs in your ear. “Don’t wax poetics on this guy.”

You ignore him.

“I do not enjoy the thought of a rift between you and I,” admits Takemura. He sets down the knife and sighs, eyes flitting to you briefly. Your hand wraps around the doorframe and you press your lips into a faint frown. "I... I have grown used to you."

You nod despite the words punching into your chest. “I don’t like it when we fight either.” At least, that you don’t have to fight twice to figure out. Your expression eases and your shoulders drop. “I’ll just hop in. Help yourself to whatever you can find. Really.” He accepts your offer with another nod and you close the door. It locks and you press your back against the metal, tipping your head back.

“For the love of—“

“Shut it, Johnny. Just… just give me a second.”

And on one of the rare occassions that he listens to you, Silverhand says nothing about how your heart doesn’t feel like wrought iron anymore.

[script-nef]

No need for jealousy, sweetie | Kageyama Tobio

Category: fluff

2k words; Is it a famous idol? Is it a high-skilled setter? Nope. It's his own son.

Everyone knows Kageyama Tobio, the genius setter of Japan’s national team and a member of The Monster Generation, is a love-struck fool. It’s not that hard to find out, seeing how his normally rigid and scowling face immediately turns soft and full of tender affection as soon as his wife is mentioned. His reaction is the same when his son, who celebrated his first birthday just a few months ago, becomes the topic of conversations as well.

The news of his son’s birth was posted all over Japan’s news as it consisted of a video uploaded onto his SNS account where you were beaming like a sun with your newborn baby in your arms while Tobio was silently crying his eyes out. He then moved to embrace you, words of thanks and love spilling out in between hiccups and cries. You joked that he cried more than you during the labour and everyone in the room was either laughing or comforting him.

You once attended one of his matches with Hikari in your arms, cheering for your husband and his team. As soon as the match was finished and congratulations were given, he zipped to your side and took the baby off of you. Hikari, recognising his father, gurgled joyfully and snuggled deeper into his embrace. As you started talking to Tobio, they both looked at you with an identical expression, like it was copy-pasted, that fans nearby took hundreds of photos. It’s one of the highlights in compilations of “Kageyama in husband mode” videos. (Other popular uploads include interviews where he doesn’t shut up when asked about your health or questions about your relationships. A lot of his fans started liking him thanks to YouTube’s wacky algorithms.)

Tobio is the embodiment of a devoted husband and father. Despite his odd memorisation skill which seemed limited to all things volleyball related, he never once missed an anniversary, birthday or doctor’s appointment. He even excused himself from practices for you. You can still hear how Hinata screamed “You’re skipping volleyball practice? You?” when he delivered the news. Interviews and commentaries after matches were cut short, much to his company and team officials’ dismay, because he couldn’t waste a second returning back to your side. He always repeated “[Name] is waiting. Goodbye.” with a bow and took off. He also wakes up practically instinctively to the baby’s cries even after he’s wiped out due to his rigorous training. The amount of superhuman stamina he has made you jealous since you’re half-dead after exercising a bit while he’s fit as a horse. He says any exhaustion he has evaporates as soon as he sees his son’s cute little face. A weird and floppy smile appeared on his face whenever he took the minuscule hands in his.

Hikari is practically a carbon copy of his father. Same piercing black eyes which look odd but strangely suitable on a one-year-old, smooth black hair growing in tufts and a round face with baby fat filling out his plump cheeks. Tobio sometimes pokes his chubby cheeks while he’s sleeping, hands trembling like he’s about to touch a priceless artifact. If you took a photo now and compared it to one of Tobio’s childhood ones, even he would be confused. They’re just that much alike.

When his teammates and friends visited to celebrate Hikari’s first birthday, their reactions were… quite interesting. Apparently they didn’t expect the child, a genetic offspring from Tobio and you, to have the similarity percentage lopsided to 99 and 1. Hinata argued 99.5 and 0.5 which caused another fight to explode between him and your husband. 

It was very childish, the arguments thrown around being the equivalent of “Look at him! Are you sure you didn’t just split into half like that thing with the cell?”  “Mitosis, idiot.”  “Why are you still so mean, Tsukishima?! But yeah, mitosis!”  “What the hell do you think you’re saying, dumbass? He’s so much like [Name]!”  “Only you can see that, Mr Wife Idiot!” and so on. It was cut short when Hikari started crying due to the influx in noise and Tobio’s Dad Mode kicked in.

In your eyes, it’s absolutely adorable. Two copies of your favourite face in the world to wake up to and fill your life with. While pregnancy was a pain, right now is paradise. Especially since Hikari is a quiet and calm kid just like his father. By now, you should be concerned if they’re clones rather than father and son.

But recently, Tobio’s kind of miffed at Hikari for some reason. That doesn’t mean he’s neglecting his child, he would rather die than do that. He’s as attentive as ever, if not even more so than usual. Using his overpowered athletic skills to respond to Hikari’s whines or cries much faster than you, he drops everything and runs out at the smallest indication of discomfort. It’s also not because having a baby is a handful, they’re meant to be like that.

No, he’s just incredibly jealous of a one-year-old because “he’s taking up all your time and affection when you promised to love me most in the world”. 

When he first said that, your initial reaction was to double-take because you thought you heard him wrong. The thought of “Well. My hearing is failing now” echoed in your head. But no, this dork was being possessive and filled to the brim with envy over his son. His own. Son. As unbelievable as it sounds, it’s kind of in character for Tobio. Tobio who has various epithets like:

King of the Court

Volleyball Idiot

Number 1 Wife Fan

Mr “I have two brain cells and one’s for volleyball and one’s for my wife. A third one is sprouting for my son.”

And plenty of other variations.

So far, the attempt to make him understand the needlessness of his concerns and jealousy haven’t gone well. Generally, it starts with your defence of “Tobio, I love you and Hikari equally.” “You said you would love me the most in the world!” “Fine then, I love you the most in the world.” “I know you’re lying!” “Sweetie, please.” Rinse and repeat.

He turns dejected after every single “fight” and curls up into a ball, refusing to talk to you unless you hug and kiss him. He thinks he’s sneaky and manipulative. He really isn’t, you have him playing in the palm of your hands.

But it’s going to become a real problem if he’s going to be jealous with the tiny tenant who’s going to be around for at least another 2 decades. And the worst thing is that you can’t regularly find advice since his closest friends aren’t… much of a help.

Hinata looked at you like you were crazy in one of your rare meetups. Tsukishima acted like he was actually getting sick from your concerns, that salty bastard. Yachi, kind and helpful and sweet Yachi, was the only one who made valuable contributions with Yamaguchi. It’s such a shame they’re so busy that they can barely have a social life nowadays.

“Hmm… I mean, he stills loves Hikari, right?”

“Yes. Endlessly.”

“Well then… how about treating him exactly the same as you did before Hikari came, if not more affectionately? That’ll show him that his son, his one-year-old son who doesn’t even understand the concept of jealousy, is not a quote-unquote threat.”

“Just threaten to leave him alone for like, a month if he keeps on being possessive. That’ll wake him up.”

“Tsukki!”

“Oh hello, Satan, didn’t think you'd be contributing. How’s roasting the souls of the innocent going?”

“It’s going fine. Would they really be innocent if they’re in Hell?”

“It’s a joke, Sea Salt. Also, that would crush him!”

“That’s the whole point.”

“I think you’re using this just to annoy him.”

“You’re thinking correctly.”

“Back to the topic at hand! [Name]-chan, just reassure and spend a lot of time with him.”

“That’s literally what I’m doing right now! Ughhh what should I dooooo…”

“You know it’s really annoying when lovestruck couples come and complain about their relationship like it’s a problem when in reality you’re happy, right? Just saying.”

“Tsukki, she has a real problem here!”

“Eh, does she though?”

And of course, that line of conversation took off before you could object and continued for the rest of the visit. So all in all, the two-hour lunch date with your friends resulted in a public commotion which nearly got you kicked out of the café. You were about to return home with no solid solutions when Hinata grabbed and stopped you.

“Hinata?”

“[Name]-chan, I’m sure it’s going to be fine. I think he’s just like this because he spent his entire life looking at either volleyball or you, and now that a third party has entered, he’s just not used to it. Time fixes everything or something like that, right?”

“It’s already been a year though…”

“Yeah, well… I’m sure he’s getting better. I remember when we visited you on Hikari’s okuizome, he was literally looking at you for the entire time. The entire time. When it was his son’s 100th day anniversary.”

Yes, Tobio spent the whole 5 hour party/ceremony with his eyes glued onto you, until everyone berated him for his lack of attention. Hinata literally flung a rubber band at his head and he didn’t even flinch. It was the main topic of conversation in your friend circle for the next month or so.

“But when we came again for his first birthday, Kageyama was all over Hikari! I think the transition of his love for you to Hikari is a bit slow, if that makes sense. He probably thinks the love you have for him is getting smaller compared to his love for you. Our Kageyama’s a bit of an idiot like that, right?” You don’t really know whether to nod or shake your head. “The fact that you’re hesitating kind of says everything, [Name]-chan. It’ll get better when his love for Hikari matches yours, okay? Hang in there!”

With a swift but warm hug, Hinata ran off to do his training. 

The entire walk back home was filled with ruminations. Hinata was probably right. Kageyama’s attitude was slowly, but surely changing now that you’re thinking back. The ratio of his time with you and Hikari was 9:1 when he was just born, but recently it was more like 8:2. It should be concerning that this is the progress after a year of living together, but it’s better than nothing. You probably have nothing to worry about.

“Tobio, I’m home!” Silence welcomed you back. “Love? You home?” It was one of his rare days off and he said he would be taking care of Hikari so you could enjoy some free time while he can sleep in for the day. Also because his team instructor forbade him from meeting with Hinata since it always ends with a 3 hour volleyball match. 

“In here.” A tiny reply emerged from the nursery. He always came running as soon as the front door creaked open like an overgrown puppy since you started living together, so this was surprising. Quietly tiptoeing in, you were met with your baby sleeping soundly in your husband’s arms, sucking on his thumb and sleep-babbling intermittently. Tobio’s face was one of love and pure happiness as he watched Hikari snoozing away like he didn’t have a care in the world—the same face he made when he stared at you. When he raised his head up to look at you, his eyes were filled with joy and warmth, crinkling in the edges. 

“He’s so small.” He whispered, careful not to wake Hikari up. You joined him by his side, gently nudging your child’s chubby cheeks and revelling at its softness. “I have this… this feeling in my chest whenever I look at him… the same one whenever I see you.” Tobio’s hand came up to cup your face and he pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

“I love you both so much.”

Yeah, you have nothing to worry about.