#we need to much exposition for the regular reader

[demacianpuppet]

Honest, I probably will make fun of Mel as "supposed" empath for quite some time because Arcane, a serie which a) is everything but subtle and b) the embodiment of show, don't tell, simply doesn't show any idication this to be true. Which annoys me to death because if they would say this thing about Viktor, I would believe it. However, his magic feels like it can do everything all at once anyway.

The question of a possible Caitlyn backstab would only happen if she mets with Vi again, because Vi absolutely would not stand at Caitlyn's side in the actual Martial Law. And Caitlyn, despite everything, knows Viktor as Jayce's partner. The commune per definition wouldn't be a threat in Cait's eyes because they keep to themselves. However, if we add Vander back into the mix we probably could create a similar scenario, where things go horrible wrong again.

I don't really think you can imprison Viktor that easily at this point, expect he maybe completely deployed all his energy in an attempt to heal Vander.

And even Viktor doesn't do the process to reach his final form, I think no matter that happens he will be consumed by his idea to reach his glorious evolution no matter in the end. The question would be how long his small commune would be enough for him if outside factors like Ambessa weren't a thing.

Months? Maybe a few years? At some point Viktor would want to save everyone.

(Also, if we do backstab/kill Ambessa, they do have to do it together. Ambessa is Mel's mom. Viktor probably would think Mel deserves the kill as much he does.)

Canonily only Jayce is able to save Viktor. The only way I could see it work if Jayce himself could reach him somehow after his death since I probably wouldn't want involve different timelines.

Alternatively, maybe Mel would managed to trap Viktor (and herself with him because she would not want him to be lonely) in the Oculorum but this kind of ending also would feel hollow. Because at some point Viktor would either assimilate her into his hivemind or she would die and Viktor would be trapped in a place he will leave at some point and the GE will still happen.

Or we go full for bad ending with this one. Having people trapped in a better version of their life would be very fox-like and Mel is tired. Her own city has become the playground for her mother's ambition. (Because the way her empathic magic works she sees the things the same ways as Viktor. With time even her iron will would get eroded.) Suffering creates more suffering and Viktor has the option to end it all. What does it matter that at this point what this is just a perversion of the dream Jayce, Viktor and Mel once had? Jayce is gone anyway. They can at least take away all the suffering in Jayce's name. This is why he created Hextech in a first place. And his will be done.

I just had the most heartbreaking idea for Melvik fic while heading home.

We know that Ambessa orchestred the attack during the memorial and it is heavily implied that she also offered Jayce's head to Renni (in the hope that the grief would bring Mel closer to her).

And now imagine... Jayce didn't make it.

Mel keeps her own vigil in the lab over Viktor, because she knew it would have been the thing Jayce would have wanted.

Viktor wakes up from his chrysalis, finding Mel instead of Jayce. They shortly talk, they touch each other, Viktor knows enough that has happened with Jayce.

With Jayce gone, there is no reason for Viktor to stay in Piltover. He tells so Mel. Maybe because he has pity with her, maybe because they both had feelings for Jayce, he offers her to go with him to the Undercity as well.

No idea what exactly would have happened after that but it is not like I have enough plot bunny which need to be captured on paper first anyway.

[uselessmoonlight]

Stranger part 7

Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother.

Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.

Previous / series masterlist / next

Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes, but no smut, English is not my first language, sorry if it's too much exposition, it's my first fic.

Ónoma literally means name in Greek, at least according to google translate. View this as the y/n of this fic.

The clattering of cutlery let her know that she’d said something wrong. She froze in her seat as the kings eyes narrowed in on her. “Where did you hear that?”

“What, I didn’t-”

“Answer me, girl. Where did you hear that?” He was standing now, his presence menacing. “Besides, there’s no way a regular girl like you would’ve been able to take out all of those men. So, tell me, how did you do it? Are you another test? Another monster? What are you? Why are you here? I will not let you get in the way of-”

“That’s enough, my love.” Penelope interrupted her husband’s tirade. “This is your son’s greatest friend, the daughter of your own greatest friend, she’s no test. You’re just on high alert from all the years away from home.”

“You don’t understand, she-”

But Penelope shushed him. “I think it’s time for bed. Ónoma, you’re welcome to stay the night, Telemachus will walk you to your room.” Then she walked away, leading a visibly shaken Odysseus out of the room.

“I don’t understand, what did I say wrong?” Peach, too, was pretty shaken from the king’s outburst. Understandably so, as the man had taken on 108 suitors without knowing she’d be there to help.

“It’s fine Ónoma, he’s been having these outbursts since he got back.” Telemachus soothed his friend.

“Yeah, something similar happened when I mentioned how much luck he must have had to be the only one of 600 to return home.” Ctimene added.

“I can’t imagine what he must have faced during all those years away.” Peach muttered.

“I can stay the night, if you want me to? It’ll be like when we were kids.” Telemachus offered, as the two sat on her bed. Whenever she’d stay at the castle, she would be given the same guest room, over time she’d let some of her belongings accumulate there.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I wouldn’t want to get on your fathers bad side. At least, not more than I already am.”

“C’mon Peach, it’s really not like that. He’s just on edge.”

“And yet I understand his concern.” Ónoma countered.

“What are you talking about?”

“I killed those men, Tele. They’re dead because of me, I don’t even know how I was able tot do it, what if I am a monst-”

“Enough of that.” Her friend said sternly. “You did it to protect my mother, and let’s be honest, yourself too. I don’t want to think about what the suitor would’ve done had you not been able to fend them off, or did you forget that you, too, are a woman?”

Her heart dropped at her friend’s words. “Of course I didn’t forget! That’s why I did it!” She raged. “I can’t afford to show mercy, not to those beasts, anyways.” She continued, softer, realisation hitting her. “Thank you, Tele.” She murmured. “I needed that.”

“I know.”

Outside of her bedroom window, an owl was perched. It hooted, before flying off. Telemachus softly shook his head, Peach thought it to be at her behaviour, but in reality it had been at his mentor’s antics.

The next morning, Peach had left before breakfast, before anyone else had woken up, even. Telemachus’ and Ctimene’s attempt to play off the king’s outburst had not calmed her one bit. Even if they were speaking the truth, she did not want to set the man off again. Perhaps once the king had settled more she’d speak to him again, or if he sought her out.

When she returned home, she wasn’t ready to face Perikles, so she kept walking, now with her beloved instrument in hand. She settled somewhere along the shore, feet in the water, the sun slowly rising. She played mindlessly, softly humming a matching melody. Music always calmed her.

But now it seemed calmness was not something she would get, as the familiar but unfamiliar voice rang in her head once more. “So, you’re devoted to my brother, then? Pity. Usually, his followers are more seasoned with a bow, axes are more Hephaestus’ thing, or Demeter’s maybe.”

What? At least the word brother clued her in that this was a God, or Goddess. Someone related to Apollo.

“You’re quick to catch on, if not Apollo then Athena, maybe? Who do you work with, or worship, I should say.”

Well, oh mighty God of gossip, I don’t really ‘work with’ anyone. Just whoever fits the occasion, really.

“You’re bold, anyone else might’ve taken offence with such a tone? Can it even be considered a tone if it’s just your thoughts? I’ll have to ask Athena next time I run into her.”

Can you please get to the point? Or leave me alone? Whoever you are anyway.

“Feisty, put the claws away, darling. I would have loved to tell you my name, but you never asked. You have to actually ask questions to get answers, you know.”

…

“Go on, darling. Ask.”

What’s your name?

“Well at least I got the message across, the name’s Hermes. I actually came here to deliver a message, but you were just too much fun to mess with.”

What is the message?

“Straight to the point, huh? Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I never said that the message was for you, I mean, it is, but still.”

…

“Did you know that the Lyre used to be mine? I gave it to my brother in exchange for his cows when I was just a babe, I’m still quite fond of it. You play beautifully, who taught you?”

Would you please tell me of the message you bring, oh great lord Hermes?

“No.”

Please?

“At least your manners have improved, but no. You tell me who taught you to play, and I tell you the message. An exchange of information, a trade, if you will.”

Right, God of merchants. I taught myself, my brother once broke my Lyre, because of how bad I was at playing at the time. I suppose I’ve improved since.

“Oh, that was your brother? Apollo smote him real good, bet he learned his lesson.”

Dead men don’t learn.

“Now, now, why so serious, oh right the message! Your brother has reunited with your father!”

My dead father?

“Exactly, now if you don’t mind, I’d like you to resume playing.”

next

A/N: girly is going through it. Also, I don’t mean for Hermes to come off as rude, rather as mischievous. He is a God, one who often visits the underworld at that, so he would not really understand the grief of mortals. I also want to portray the duality of Ctimene’s grief and relief some more, and I definitely want to dive into Odysseus’ PTSD. Maybe show some of Penelope’s caution around men too, dealing with those suitors for so long would’ve definitely made a person a bit jumpy.

Taglist:

@suckerforblondies

@barrythestrawberry041

@trashcannotbealive

@apollos-dodgeball-target

@doodle-with-rhy

[drunkenlionwrites]

dialing in to ur call for more Trigun content! we always need more!!

im thinking a vash x reader where both are clubbing together? drunk vash from trigun98 seems so fun to be around,,, but also fun to get drunk and nasty with 😏

please and thank you! i love ur writing <33

Okay anon, thank you so so much for this request! I had toooooooons of fun writing it and was compltely ingrossed in the process, so it's lacking of pretty metaphores or deaper meaning. Just 1000w of exposition + around 500w of spicy scenes. Also, as you suggested clubbing, the reader here is not a naive and shy one, but a slut regular girlie feeling a bit out of her element in the beginning. Also it's kinda a cyberpunk AU (not game or cartoon, just a genre) and oh lord. I am dead for it. Warnings: fem! reader, pretty mild actually, some touching by unfamiliar people, grinding, kissing, NOT PROOFREAD

It all started with the innocent revelation that you’ve never been to a club, except for dingy dancing nights in local tiny pubs in nearby cities, so once your company hit July city, Vash took it upon himself to introduce you to a clubbing culture. “It’ll be fun” he said with a pure enthusiasm and a signature kitty smile. You’ve been very reluctant, but even Meryl and Milly went clubbing a few times in student years, besides with a little pocket Cerberus which was Meryl you weren’t feeling like it would be any kind of dangerous endeavor.

Even out on the night streets you’ve felt so out of place, as Vash has been navigating the narrow alleyways as if he’s just been here. All kinds of people passed your company – hair dyed in acidic colors, clothes looking like something you’ve seen in barely survived old superhero comic books, visible parts of body infused with ancient technology. Perhaps that’s what living near the biggest parts of fallen ships and an abundant quantity of pants provides you with.

As you’ve been walking at the end of your group, mouth agape, you suddenly hit Meryl’s back as you’ve heard Vash’s upbeat “Here we are” as he has been opening a pretty unsuspicious looking grey door. Once you entered it, a strong smell of alcohol, sweat and something else completely indescribable hit your nose, as well as muffled sounds of music (you were not sure what it was) filling in all your sensory perceptions. You’ve also been made to strip of your outer clothing and searched through for any prohibited items – such as guns, your own alcohol, and narcotics (what in the hell?).

While you’ve been reluctantly putting your belongings away in the security box, feeling completely out of place wearing a basic black tank top and worn-out cargo pants. “Don’t worry, sweet cheeks, a few ‘Aunt Robertas’ and you’ll be going to have sooo much fun, I promise. This night is all about you” Vash leaned down to loudly proclaim next to your ear. Ang God, darting your face up to him you’ve noticed how much in place he looked in here without his coat on: all clad in leather, his toned shoulders and abs are now on full display and you thanked the dim lightning that your lovestruck eyes were not so obvious. Wolfwood has been approached by a cute half-naked boy right at the entrance and with a quick smirk and a wave of his hand he left your bunch to your own devices.

Vash ushered the tree of you to the glassy elevator, which seemed to be taking you to the top floor of the building. “Don’t worry girls, the bartender here is an old friend of mine, so he will keep an eye on your drinks”. As soon as you left the elevator, you’ve been greeted with a view of what seemed to be hundreds of people, moving almost in sink, bodies next to bodies, all smiles, and lewd eyes, grinding against each other, while loud chaotic music has been playing deafening you almost completely. The same unseen before neon-colored lights feeling the room, the smell of sweat and something sweet filling the huge space before you.

While you’ve been walking towards what you assumed was a bar stand, Vash’s hair, and face, and his body has been caressed sensually by what you assumed were dozens of people you’ve passed through. You’ve noticed a few interested faces measuring you too, but with Meryl’s scowls no one dared to approach you. You’ve felt a bit out of your element, but it’s not like you’ve been an actual wallflower, so you were sure that a few drinks and you’ll be somewhere among the dancing crowd, but as of now you carefully treaded next to Milly and Meryl as Vash paved the way with his broad figure. Damn, what a difference made the lack of his usual coat. Uhm. But you’re not here for this. Totally not for this. You definitely wanted to feel yourself after all the craziness that was trailing behind the most wanted man on the planted, and oh you will.

With your newly found resolve, you’ve emptied cocktail after cocktail the bartender so generously offered you, disregarding Meryl’s cautionary words. The knowledge that all people in here were presumably weaponless, bartender was Vash’s acquaintance and the man in question himself has been lurking out there somewhere your inebriated brain has been completely relaxed and empty of any thoughts except the desire to go out there and join the crowd that now felt like a singular moving and breathing organism to you. You briefly felt someone else’s hands clinging to your waist as you moved with the rhythm, eyes close and head held high.

You’ve lost count of how many songs have changed, so you barely noticed Vash pocking your shoulder and opening your eyes, you noticed your friend with two extremely pretty girls leaning onto him as he beamed at you. If his damned striped necktie hadn’t been left somewhere in the pocket of his red jacket now tucked securely in a box on the ground level, you were sure he would be wearing it like a fool he always is at the public gatherings. His cheeks and forehead glistening each time the lightning in the club changed to the lighter one, he leaned closer to you and screamed into your ear: “Seems like someone enjoying herself too much!” pointing with his chin to some guy’s hand caressing your side.

You stood on tiptoes and grabbed Vash’s shoulder to make him lean closer to you: “Oh yeah? And who’s telling me this? You’ve got yourself quite good company” at which he chuckled and said something to the girls, smiling brightly and took your hand, intending to tug you away from the dance floor. As you were leaving, one of the beauties patted your shoulder and poutily said “You go girl, enjoy the night” which you didn’t really get at the time, so just you shrugged, and followed Vash to whatever place he wanted to show you. You happened to stop somewhere on the darker corner further away from the dancefloor, where the music was less loud, and the projector lights barely reached. “Didn’t know you have such a party animal hidden beside your façade” Vash chuckled in your ear, now much more clearly audible. His hot alcohol smelling breathing fanning the side of your neck and ear. You shivered at the sensation, eyes darting anywhere except his pretty face, noticing only kissing couples hidden in the dark corners of the alleyway. “Uhm. So, what did you want to show me here, Vash?” At which he granted you one more of his cat-like smirks. Clubbing is not clubbing if you haven been making out with a stranger somewhere out in the dim light of the back of the dancefloor. Did you know it?” “Hmmm so should I go find him?” you retorted. Vash pouted cutely. “Don’t you think I’ll do for the part?” and moved closer to your face, as he was murmuring this almost into your lips, and oh fuck, now you have no place to hide from his piercing playful gaze. “We can at least try” you responded with the same intonation and it was all it took for him to swiftly turn you so that your back was pressed to the wall and on of his hand caging you, as the other fisted the thin fabric of your tank top, moving you closer to him. Closer and more desperate as his wet and warm lips were enveloping yours, his tongue entering you without meeting any resistance. Closer, until you’ve felt the tent in his leather pants prodding somewhere against your lower stomach which caused you to moan sinfully into his mouth, gaining you the same emotional response. You completely lost himself in his heated kisses and the feeling of almost all of his sweaty body pressing int yours, so once you separated from him, you’ve felt the lack of oxygen inside your system.“Vash…oh God. I need to breathe.” You murmured.

“Good that I know a place” he winked and once again led you by the hand somewhere. You have used to this so much at this point that you would’ve had let him lead you anywhere, even to your demise. Fortunately, it was only an open balcony with a bunch of patrons occupying it here and there. Vash easily placed you upon the balcony railing and you’ve felt that apart your backside occupying it you’ve been completely vulnerable to falling from it, but the hot and strong arms granted you with an overwhelming sense of security. Vash placed his long legs around yours and hugged your waist, pressing his face into your chest, desperately grinding into you as your pelvises were now exactly on the same level. “Oh God..I want you so much, you know that, Mayfly? Can you feel what you’re doing to me?” and he looked up at you, assaulting your lips again and again, using all his arsenal – puffy lips, tongue, his sharp canines, and the burning desire. “Blue curaçao, I see?” he cocked his head, licking his lips and looking at you oh so lewdly.

[fanaticmorelikefantastic]

Talk Too Much: Leon Fic Part 1

Masterlist

..............................................................................................................................

Synopsis: A freak author/artist with no friends and no life meets this really attractive guy and her first thought is to write him into her new novel

Tags: Leon/reader, leon/fem!reader, leon is very polite and regular, loser-y reader, she's just a rat in a pringles can, we all are, pre re4 leon, this will soon change, (mostly) modern au

It felt like it had been hours. Hell, when I checked the time, it really had been hours. Yet here I am, still staring at an empty Word document. Well, almost empty. I kept writing and rewriting the first few sentences. ‘It was a cold and stormy night.’ No. Who starts with that anymore? ‘It was summer, the summer of my-’ Ugh I hate summer, it makes me think of flies. ‘It’s too bad that every love ends with heartbreak.” I’m not even writing a tragedy what? Well I could, but I’d feel terribly bad about it and would eventually end up writing a messy redemption arc with countless plot holes. Ew. I don’t know how long this cycle continued for until I was entirely fed up with everything. That’s a lie, it lasted for an hour and forty five minutes. I was obsessively checking the clock the entire time as though it held some secret answer to my writing dilemma, or the universe, or something. But it doesn’t and I’m all out of ideas, and motivation, and friends, and real romance, and potatoes, and milk, and hair ties, and- okay let’s stop. I shut down my laptop and put it in its bag. For a moment I thought that I could finish that painting I’ve been working on (the one that was ordered by that pretentious a- be nice), but the tedium deterred me. (It does have to be done in the next ten weeks though. I wish I would’ve just picked a struggle instead of being so ambitious.) Maybe a break is what I needed. That or a change of scenery. Both maybe. After standing up and almost falling right back down, I was reminded to eat, or that I haven’t eaten, or that I should go out somewhere to eat while I write! Genius, absolute. I practically ran to my room to get dressed to go. I could walk around and see if there’s anything to eat nearby, or I could just go to one of my regular spots. I had a hankering for adventure today, so I settled on the former. Cute clothing always boosts morale, so let's put some on. I also make sure that they’re comfortable. It’s important to be comfortable when you’re planning on staring at a computer screen for several (more) hours. 

It must’ve been divine intervention that made me want to go outside, because whilst in this cafe (which I never really noticed before) words have been pouring out of my mind. A hook, an exposition, a main character that I actually don’t hate, it seemed like all the stars were aligning in favor of me and this story. Well, all the stars that aren’t the male lead. I had written all the way up to when we meet him, but there he goes, pulling a disappearing act. Nestled in the corner of a cute and cozy cafe on a late autumn morning seemed like the perfect place to have a meet cute with the fragmented image of a male lead, but strangely, he was nowhere to be found. I scanned around the space for any inspiration. The cozy wooden tables and decorations paired with sleek black accents along the ceiling and other places gave the area a moody and romantic feel. The only problem was that there weren’t any moody or romantic people whose style I could rip off for my character. I gave up on my plan pretty fast. I had made plenty of progress already (or at least I gaslit myself into thinking so), so I chose instead to worry about whether or not I should get another one of those delicious sandwiches. Paninis. The food they served here was stupidly good, and maybe it could magically imbue some new ideas into my head. I decided on getting the chicken version of the sandwich (panini) I just had. While I ordered at the counter, my eyes wandered to a mini key lime tart seated behind the glass. I wondered for a second what their desserts tasted like, nestled all cozy in their display. It's what they specialize and advertise so I’m sure they’re delicious, but I needed an excuse to come back later, right? 

I settled into my seat, a new spot closer to the window this time, thinking that maybe a different view would help me to finally write in this character. His personality was already pretty much decided (it’s written in the notebook I have reserved for this book), but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what he was to look like. While pondering at my meal (sandwich (panini)), I heard the little cowbell on the door jingle and I instinctively looked up. I was joking earlier, but now I’m sure that some higher being brought me here because the man that just walked in was drop dead gorgeous. He was an absolute unit, his arm muscles unmistakably flexing in his short sleeved shirt (not that I was looking or anything (no, really they looked at me first). It was gray, which I usually wouldn’t like, but when it’s tucked into a pair of dark blue jeans fixed by a belt that matched the combat boots peeking from under them (the jeans), I waver just a bit. That’s all well and great, but the real kicker was when he glazed his eyes across the room. Oh my goodness his eyes. It felt like getting hit by a ton of bricks but if the bricks were made of metaphorical blue raspberry jell-o imbued with pure effervescence. It seemed like my fingers were floating when I wrote:

‘His eyes were blue when they met mine. I know it’s terribly cliche, but I couldn’t help but notice the cold, milky blue in his irises that melted away like a glacier when he looked to the floor. With gentle hands, he picked up my wallet, placing it in my hand that was, embarrassingly, frozen in place. I grasped it mindlessly as we both stood up. 

“Be careful not to drop it next time.” Not if you’re around to pick it up for me. 

“Yea.” I sounded pathetic. I felt pathetic. I looked pathetic as I watched him walk away, heart full of hopes, stomach full of butterflies, and head full of dreams.’ 

He walked right by me and I froze, the result of a sort of guilt for using him as a basis for someone in my novel. I tried to steal a discreet glance at him, but it was just my luck that he sat down in a cafe, by himself, with just one coffee, to do nothing. He wasn’t even on his phone. I immediately turned back around, not giving myself any time to see if he saw me or not because of course he did. He didn’t have anything else to look at (Wow, I sound so stuck up). I do my best to wrap up the paragraph I’m on and hide the embarrassment I feel towards this stranger that probably doesn’t even know I’m writing a paragraph about a girl falling in love with a fictitious version of him. I feel gross about it, but it’s not like I’m stalking him or anything, I just appropriated his likeness to write into my novel, which will be published, and people will (hopefully) read. I left before he did and on my way back I wondered why it was that I felt so guilty about it. It surely wasn’t the first time I pilfered a random name called by the barista at Starbucks, or stole the style of somebody I saw out of my window, or even took the words from a conversation I’d overheard for the sake of my writing. This time it felt a little more personal, maybe it’s because he was my type: tall, blonde, and built like a refrigerator. Whatever it was, I put it behind me by the time I got home. After all, it’s not like I’ll ever see him again. Now that chicken panini? That’s a different story.

Enter tomorrow morning, where I wake up refreshed, and early, and equipped with a name for our favorite love interest. Leon. It was a great name to give him, simple and iconic so the readers (and I) will remember it throughout the rest of the story. Also it goes great with the name Audrey. Audrey and Leon, star crossed lovers.  For a moment, the image of the guy from the coffee shop flashed through my mind, but that man’s name could never be Leon. I stretch my limbs, popping almost every joint in my body, before stepping into the shower and thinking about how his (the guy from yesterday’s) name probably starts with a J. He looked like a Jason, or maybe a Jamie. Definitely a Jamie. After I quickly jot down the name (Leon, not Jamie) into my notebook, which has gained more than a few stickers on the cover, I decide that now is the perfect time to go for a walk, maybe even a jog. It’s not often that I wake up feeling so great, so I have to take full advantage of it. Athletic leggings and a sleeveless top, something I don’t usually wear, but today we’re getting out of our box. I give a small thanks to laser hair removal as I put them on. The shirt matches the stripe in the leggings, which matches my shoes. I love how it matches. I also love how my leggings have a pocket on the side, and how it zips closed. I say another thanks to feminist clothing designers as I put my phone in said pocket before checking my ponytail once more in the mirror and leaving from my front door (like I have any other one). I make extra sure to lock it, turns out I hadn’t last time, which was scary, but thankfully inconsequential. 

The elevator to the lobby was filled with bliss. I even said hello to the receptionist on my way out of the building. I logged two miles around the park, half of which I actually jogged for. I sat on a bench, feeling accomplished and wondering if I should do another lap around, or maybe I should reward my excellence with a little treat, a chicken panini perhaps. I remembered those sweets they had on display at that shop (I can’t remember the name of it for the life of me) and decided that I’d rather die than not eat one of those this morning. I just did a run, I already worked off the calories, right? I did my best to perform a discreet smell check before heading that direction. I hummed lightly to myself all the way there, brainstorming ideas for how to progress my novel. It’d be cool if she found out his name by accident, like seeing it on his belongings, or overheating a friend say it, or something. That’s all fine and good, but the trope of saying ‘The name’s Leon’ still has a vice grip on me. I should've brought my notebook along. Then I could have written all this down. The friendly jingle of the door bell greeted me as I walked in the store. When I took my place in line, the focus of my thoughts shifted to which dessert I should get. Something with apples for sure. I love apples. They’re so refreshing and kinda earthy? There are so many kinds of apples, but they all taste similar somehow. I wonder why. I couldn’t pinpoint the reason before it was my turn to enthusiastically order an apple turnover (and a chai latte, I couldn’t help myself when I saw someone order one before me). I received the turnover in a little brown baggie and took a seat nearby to wait for my latte. While waiting, I pondered the second meeting of our (my) favorite protagonists and if Jamie is getting another medium black coffee right now. Wait, Jamie? I snapped myself back into reality as I watched (the man that I secretly dubbed) Jamie walk into the store and towards the ordering counter. I hadn’t expected him to be here again today, or at least that’s what I told myself because I couldn’t admit the possibility of him being a regular here. He probably was. I had (thankfully) barely started my thought spiral when my name was called at the counter. I mindlessly walked up and grabbed my cup. What a coincidence, I walked to the counter just in time to witness Jamie order a medium coffee with cream, but no sugar. I looked at him for a second, one second too long apparently. He looked at me (with those eyes, those infuriatingly gorgeous ones that made me sacrifice my writing morals to make the male lead have ones the exact same color) and smiled. He smiled at me, a knowing one as though he knew something I didn’t. Did he? Probably. I returned it along with a polite nod, then tried my best to exit the store with my dignity intact. Unfortunately, fate had different plans. I had barely taken a couple steps away when I heard a voice call out to me.

“Hey wait up!” It was him. I know it was, I just heard him order his coffee. His voice sounds like coffee, rich and smooth. I turn around, putting on my best I-definitely-didn’t-plan-to-write-a-whole-book-about-you face.

“Yea?” I can’t get over how perfect he looks. It feels illegal for a man to have such flawless skin and- scar? Why would he have a-

“Hey um, I just couldn’t help but notice you at the cafe earlier. Well I was wondering if you’d maybe wanna meet up for a chat there sometime?” I would die for this man. It was something about the way he said it, or maybe he’s just using his evil eye powers to hypnotize me because I feel like I could never say no to him and I have an alarming lack of qualms about it. 

“Yea- Yea, um I think that’d be nice! Well, my name is _ and I’ll look forward to meeting you- uhh…” I gave him that please-tell-me-your-name look that people do when they want to finish their sentence. He laughed a bit. Well, more like a lighthearted exhale, but I say it counts.

“Leon. It’s Leon” Oh. My. God. Oh no. Oh dear.

“Leon, Okay! Do you, uhh” I moved the bag that held my pastry to be precariously secured by the hand that held my latte in order to grab my phone from my pocket. 

“Oh, yeah, let me put my number in.” Leon gently took it from my hand when I held it out to him (he also scrambled my brain by making me try to figure out how his hands could simultaneously feel like clouds and alligators). I watched him type his name, then his number. All my thoughts must’ve gotten scared and hidden away, because my head feels empty as  a helium balloon. I clumsily receive my phone back once he’s done, looking at the name ‘Leon S. Kennedy’, then back at him. He’s so gorgeous and he’s just standing there, smiling, but not like an idiot (I’m the one smiling like that), he’s more like, a reassuring fireman. 

“I’ll see you around then?” I barely registered that he was talking to me. It felt like I was having a semi-lucid dream where once I wake up, I realize my entire life until now was just a figment of my imagination. 

“Yea.” I sounded pathetic. I felt pathetic. I looked pathetic as I watched him walk away, head full with dreams, heart full with hopes, and stomach fluttering with butterflies. 

…

I am so dead.

[sordidmusings]

THE BITTERSWEET TONE OF THIS HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD AND THE SONG CHOICE IS PERFECT FOR IT AND THE SETTING AND AAAAAAAAAAA

You packed so so much into this and somehow it didn’t feel too dense or like I was being assaulted with exposition. I think it’s because there’s a really nice flow to it and you paced it out well after sliding smoothly into it. The switches from explaining reader’s character to reader’s story and such also helped a ton and felt like we were being guided into Sanji’s world and affection with it so SO well done!! You also have a knack for saying a lot with a little which is impressive!!

Def a H U G E recommendation for this❣️❣️ especially if you want a taste of ‘genuine love, wrong place and wrong time’ because life paths and duty are really unforgiving 🥲

As I’m trying to form in habit - annotes below the cut!

What an opening 😩😩😩 and what a very Sanji opening on top of that!! His romanticizing ways and his sweet overwhelm come through first thing and I love it!! You got it all through clearly, potently, and smoothly all in just four lines 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 and it just keeps that wonderful skill going!

The pairing of Sanji up with someone serious and driven is always a good choice - I mean there do be a reason I love me some Zosan 💀 beyond that someone with his persistence in affection and service is a perfect remedy for anyone who has had a life that has hardened them so. The choice for her to be Vivi’s guard is a fun one too!!! I’m used to seeing reader be some sort of free agent or going after their own goals not being tied so closely to another character who is transient in their story. It’s usually a much more passing connection in those cases and not something so filled with loyalty like this.

“Snapping words at his crew whenever they grew too careless around your princess” I HAVE A NEED TO HAVE SEEN THIS I mean someone really should have been there to put them in line sometimes and it’s ripe for adding humor in their dynamic - like just imagine how reader would react to Luffy decking Vivi 💀💀💀

Oml Sanji wanting to give reader some relief is too gOOD this man really is into service (in both the regular and naughty ways sorry not sorry for stating Facts) so he so WOULD and it warms my heart 🤍 also how you talk about him wanting to “ease that pain and strife” made my brain think of the thing people who have experienced great trauma do where subconsciously they try to fix others because they can’t fix those old hurts they have in themselves and I feel like that’s a thing with Sanji and it’s making me feel too many things 🥲 I also love how opposing their trauma is to Sanji’s - they had to suffer losing a loving family and he suffered losing his family from their own hateful nature, taking the only loving ones from him with it too. Both orphans in their own right from such different places.

SANJI DOWNPLAYING FLIRTING IS SERIOUS STUFF I love this addition because it speaks volumes while being funny at the same time 💀 I also love that the reader “cracking the smallest of smiles” shows that he slowly wore on her over the passage of time 🤍

I AM SO FEEAL FOR THE SHORT CIRCUITING SANJI YOU HAVE NO IDEA I JUST

ALSO READER SHYLY APPROACHING HIM JUST MY HEART 😭 I NEED THEM TO SMACN THEM AT EACH OTHER LIKE TWO DOLLS TO KISS and their teasing flirting is giving me LIFE

You also do a great job at portraying the overwhelming joy and relief and bliss they’d have after such a monumental even as getting their country back and being in the healing rains. That’s a hard thing to do so major props!!

“You laugh in that silvery way of yours” um excuse me what a beautiful phrase how dare you

“You were going to leave him just as he had been gifted your smile and laughter and joyous brightness” uMm exCUSE me what a wonderfully heartbreaking notion how dARE U

Bless dancing challenged readers because I never had an opportunity to learn how to dance and I feel like it’s Too Late now so unless it’s clubbing I ain’t know wtf to do even tho I have rhythm 💀 makes it relatable to specifically me and I am selfish about it sometimes lol

A KISS A KISS A KISS AND NOW ILL CRY IN PAIN WONDERING IF THEYLL EVER SEE EACH OTHER AGAINNNN 😭😭😭

Just For One Dance

Sanji x GN!Reader

Summary: You didn't smile. Didn't laugh. Didn't dance. But when you do, you become Sanji's whole world.

Warnings: Fluffff, some angst, Spoilers for the anime (Alabasta Arc)

Word Count: 1.1K

Song:

September - Instrumental

A/N: I've had this little idea for a whileeee now, and I've been itching to write it, so I hope you all enjoy!!! 🩷🩷🩷

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It was as if the moon had carved itself onto your lips. So bright and shining with a celestial glow that was otherworldly. 

You were smiling. 

You were smiling and it was making it hard for Sanji to breathe. 

The cigarette he had lit seconds ago fell from his lips as he watched you tilt your head up to the sky, arms spread so you could feel every last droplet of rain upon your skin. Tears rolled over the flushed rounds of your cheeks, a laugh bordering on a sob falling from those grinning lips of yours. 

Your laugh--your laugh. 

It was a sound sweeter than honey--richer than the smoothest chocolate. It was a sound that was engraving itself into Sanji’s very mind. One he would not easily forget.

Sanji had known you for a short while now. Had known you ever since the protection of Vivi had been passed from the recently deceased Igaram onto you. 

He knew you were a serious, honor and duty-driven warrior. Knew you didn’t seek any of life's pleasures out for yourself, putting your duties and princess above all else. 

He knew that included any of the special treats or drinks he made for you and the ladies of his crew. Included the simple act of partaking in conversion outside of snapping words at his crew whenever they grew too careless around your princess. Words Sanji himself had been bitten by more times than he could count on both hands for even trying to make a conversion with you. 

Sanji knew you didn’t laugh. Didn’t joke. Didn’t cry or get upset for yourself. Didn’t smile. 

He had wanted to change that ever since he had first laid eyes on you at Little Garden after you had someone managed to track your princess down. 

He had wanted to bring you joy. Had wanted to try and ease that pain and strife waging a war in your eyes. 

He had learned from Vivi what had happened to your family. Your mother and baby sister had been killed during a rather horrid sandstorm. Your father, after joining the royal guard, had been killed in battle. Your brother, very shortly after joining the rebel forces currently opposing Vivi and her father, had been killed during a raid. 

Yet you stayed steady in your loyalty to Vivi, who had become your friend and given you sanctuary as her handmaiden as well as the opportunity to train with Igaram. Yet you sought nothing out for yourself, always giving and protecting. 

So Sanji did what he could to make you feel appreciated. He made sure your meals were prepared with the utmost care and packed with all the protein and nutrients you needed. Made sure to bring you water after hours of sitting in the sun and training. Sanji even tried his hand at downplaying his flirting. At just sitting with you in your silence and even throwing you the occasional joke just so he could see you crack the smallest of smiles. 

It never worked of course. You were a steadfast warrior, one whose serious nature rivaled that of the Straw Hats’ own warrior. 

But here you were, smiling as the rain-soaked you to the bone. Smiling and laughing and crying for your country which had faced so much hardship.

And when you turned that smile onto Sanji, his heart stopped. His brain stopped. The soft hush of the rainfall around them and the voices of his crew fell away until all he could hear was you.

He watched you approach him with a carefulness he wanted to tell you wasn’t needed, but his throat had run dry--words catching and faltering under your stunning beauty. 

A calloused strong yet gentle hand smoothed over his, slowly interlocking fingers in a soft hold. Some semblance of sense came back to Sanji then, his fingers tightening their hold around your hand and feet moving him closer into your joy-filled presence.

“Dance with me?” You asked, eyes turning away from his in yet another emotion you had yet to gift him. Shyness. 

“I thought you didn’t dance?” Sanji teased, leaning ever closer. 

He wanted to be near you--needed to be near you. It was a feeling so strong it had a hold on his physical body. 

You rolled your eyes at his tease, but that smile never once drooped. 

“I told you I wouldn’t dance with you until the rains fell for my home again.” You said, voice cracking in your over-flowing happiness. Your light-filled eyes glanced upward once more, your smile only growing. “I could be mistaken, but I believe it’s raining now.” Sanji’s own laugh flew from his chest, gaining those watery, joy-filled eyes once more. 

“I believe it is.” He pulled you carefully against his body, his own hand guiding yours to lay on his shoulder. 

“I must warn you though. I am a horrid dancer.” You laughed in that silvery way of yours, pulling your body flush against Sanji’s. “I am but a lowly soldier.” 

“And I am but a lowly pirate. What brilliant dance partners will we make for each other.” You watched Sanji was a long moment. Watched him as your eyes softened and your smile grew warm. A softness and warmth meant only for him. Warmth that wormed its way into Sanji’s heart and would stay there until death was kissing his brow.

Just as Sanji’s hand found purchase on the small of your back, the voice of your princess came floating closer. A voice that had your smile faltering and that seriousness filling your eyes. You were going to leave him just as he had been gifted your smile and laughter and joyous brightness. 

Sanji held you closer against his body--leaned in closer so that his nose was just a breath away from kissing your own. Your eyes widened and that shyness Sanji had instantly loved upon its first arrival bloomed over your face. 

“Let's be selfish. Just for one dance.” You blinked at him. And blinked and Sanji was sure you would pull away from him. 

“Just for one dance.” You agreed, your smile growing once more and setting Sanji’s heart ablaze. 

The rain was your music and the beat of your heart against his guide. 

You may have been true to your word about your dancing abilities, but it hardly mattered to Sanji. Not when you hooked your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. Not when your smell, like the very rains falling around you, filled his nose and sent his head spinning. Not when after moments of lovely quiet in each other's arms, you showed him one last gift.

You gifted him a kiss. A smiling kiss he was more than eager to gift right back.

Tags: @fanaticsnail , @lostfirefly

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Okay okay okay. Pply ghostface TBABTO college road trip. Like the blank between the final chapter and the epilogue. The soft moments, the spicy moments, the e m o t i o n a l moments. Dialogue that makes you FEEEEEL. Pls I beg

AY! AY! SO! Sunny, dearest, darlingest, beloved Sunny! I am SO happy you asked for this! So like I mentioned earlier today is the two year anniversary of Two Boys Are Better Than One! I wanted to do a fic to help celebrate it right and this request is fucking perfect for it. This basically elaborates on the section in the Epilogue of TBABTO where our favourite triad takes a road trip off to college. It isn’t all spicy because I made it clear in said epilogue that stuff is on hold pretty hard while the boys heal up but there is some deff spicy stuff in here don’t worry! Either way, I love this, I hope you all do too! I think it’s got some good feelings, some good softness and overall great roadtrip vibes. Let’s get into it!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 5.1K. (I went in.) Billy Loomis X Stu Macher X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. TBABTO! Verse. Poly!Ghostface. Warnings: Softness. Fluff. Exhibitionism. So Much Exposition. General Road Trip Fuckery. Dumb Conversations. Emotions. Making Out. Grinding. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Dirty Talk. Mentions Of Rimming. Somnophilla. Picture Taking.

—

Hitting The Road.

—

The drive kicked off with excited farefare.

The car had been packed well, all the important and vital personal effects stuffed in the trunk, tetris’d in just so to fit as much as possible without damaging anything. Billy claimed all his time playing that stupid block moving game made him exceptionally skilled at packing and while you and Stu scoffed he DID manage to get everything you all needed in the car. It earned a kiss on the cheek from both you and Stu before all piling in.

There is a truck that will meet you at your new apartment soon after you arrive with the remainder of your belongings, it was a long drive, a couple of days and you didn’t want to drive the moving truck yourselves. Mostly due to how fucking batshit your summer ended up being, you planned a solid roadtrip with some good stops to make up for some of the lost time and the regular car made this way easier.

This was also your first big outing since getting back together, not to mention the road trip to college even without all that is a big deal, one that should be rightfully honoured and appreciated.

You had missed your boys terribly and you were going to savour this.

You had barely made it outside the city limits and were already excitedly talking. Billy was driving the first shift, you were sitting next to him up front and Stu is in the back, leaning between the seats. You were all talking classes and what you were taking. You look over your shoulder to see what Stu is holding and you snatch it out of his hands. “Ooo class schedule? Let’s see.”

He lets you look it over and you start skimming, you spot the film studies class and look at him, turning the page around and pointing to it, “Really?”

“What?! Billy took it too!” Stu said pointing to the man next to you and Billy looks over at you. His one hand lifting off the steering wheel as he said, “What? I wanted us to have a class together and I needed an elective and it fit in with my other classes.”

You gaped at him, holding the paper to your chest, “You are both taking it? I can’t believe you are taking it without me!” You sounded hurt but it was all an act, just joking around.

“Listen you weren’t around when we were picking classes for obvious reasons! Maybe you can swap in?” Stu offered and you rolled your eyes, “I’m fucking with you, I’m all good, besides we talk movies enough as it is.”

You went on to say, “And knowing you two I will probably end up ‘helping’ with your homework anyway.”

“Like you are gonna say no to more movie dates.” Billy teased and you sing-songed out, “Guilty. You do know that any movies you are assigned you have to actually, you know, watch them? Not just fuck with them on in the background.”

“Damn it. She’s got a point.” Stu sighed and you continued on, “All the more reason I shouldn’t take it. I can see us now trying to watch something and having to fight you both off to actually take in the material assigned.”

You look further on the sheet in your hands and see Stu is taking a photography class, that piques your interest and leads you to ask with one word, “Photography?”

Stu leaned forward against your seat as he said, “Always kinda been into it, want to get more into it, seems really interesting.”

Honestly it weirdly fit him. You can totally see Stu around campus with a camera taking pictures of whatever strikes his fancy. “You already got a camera?”

“Yeah I just felt a bit, I dunno, weird about it? So I didn’t show you guys yet.” He admitted and you scoffed, “Stu, c’mon, if you are into it and want to do it seriously we are supportive, right Billy?”

“Totally.” He nodded, “Besides like I would ever say no to you taking some personal pictures as a gift sometime. You could help him out with that babe, right?” Billy’s hand gripped your thigh and you smiled at the contact and the implication. Stu chimed in, “Mmm yeah I think she’d make for a really interesting subject.”

You needed a distraction. You had agreed that the three of you shouldn’t do anything much physically while the boys were still healing with their stitches, and didn't want to risk a single thing going wrong again since you’d just come so close to losing them.

“You should take some pictures on our trip, Stu, get some practice in.” You half turned in your seat to get a better look at him, “You think?”

“Yeah! Capture some memories so we never forget it and all that sappy shit.” You reached into over and plucked out the folded sheet sticking out of Billy’s pocket. “Now what are you taking?”

You start picking through and see the first thing of interest, “Criminology?” You snort. “You gonna start murdering on the sly once you get ideas on how to better get away with it?”

“Never say never.” He teases.

On the drive goes and a few hours in you need to stop for gas and while that is happening, naturally, snacks.

You are standing in an aisle lined with treats of the salty and sweet variety, almost a little too cold from the air conditioner blasting, debating over what to get. You are listening as Stu defends the merits of cool ranch doritos to your shared and unconvinced boyfriend.

“Why do you want them so bad?” He asked, arms crossed and Stu said, “It's suuuuch a summer chip, also why do you care? I’m buying.”

“Because I have to kiss you with fucking dorito breath.” Billy grumbled and you laughed. “Well what is your go-to snack?" You asked and he plucked up a bag and said, “Hot cheetos, duh.”

Stu made a face, “Ugh you would.”

“Well sorry for having taste.” Billy fired back. “How about we ask her for a tie breaker?”

They both turned to you and you looked back and forth between them before shrugging and saying, “C’mon you should know me better by now, I prefer options, I say both.”

“Atta girl.” Stu said with a smile as you picked up a box of milk duds and some licorice and shoved them into his arms.

Billy seemed distatified by your answer but not much he could do so he simply said, “You would, you are so indecisive.”

“That indecisiveness means I am with both of you because I couldn’t pick just one. So I wouldn’t be dissing it the way you are right now, Loomis.” You tease and he rolls his eyes, a fond smile as he says, “Yes ma’am.”

Drinks and snacks procured and paid for you are back in the car.

You are driving for a bit. Billy is in the back and Stu is up front with you.

He had fishsed his camera out of the trunk when you were stopped and he is fucking around with the settings. You are messing with the radio when Stu turns to you suddenly and takes a picture of you with one hand on the wheel and one on the radio dial and you laugh it off, batting your hand weakly in an attempt to get him to stop. “C’mon-”

“No, no you encouraged this! You asked for this!” He laughed, still holding the camera up for another picture and you throw up a middle finger covering your face with it as he takes another picture.

He pulls the camera back and checks out the picture and says, “Jokes on you, that is a great look for you.”

“Why don’t you take some pics of Billy boy?” You ask and he says, “Great idea-”

He turns and Billy sighs but smiles as he is reclined against the seats and lets it happen, knowing it is easier this way then trying to fight both you and Stu on this.

He snaps it and looks it over, a wide grin as he says proudly, “Oh that came out fucking great.”

“Lemme see.” You asked, leaning a little closer, eyes still forward for the time being.

The road at this stretch is mostly empty, it’s safe enough, Stu turns the camera so you can see and you sneak a peek at the picture he took and fuck.

It did look good.

It reminded you of the pictures you’d taken so far, the ones you framed and gifted them, the first holiday season you shared and the ones you had kept for yourself. The ones you couldn’t bring yourself to burn during the break up.

The same ones you framed were wrapped carefully and lovingly packed away in your boxes, ready to be placed carefully in your new apartartment you were going to share with them.

This was real. This was happening. You were going off to college, to all live together.

Decorate it together, cook together, share your lives, this is a big next step.

You did it, they got away with it thanks to you, you were all here and present and working towards your shared future together. Your eyes broke away, back on the road ahead as you said with a soft smile, “Looks great Stu.”

“Yeah? Thanks babe.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on your cheek before setting back in his seat.

Even with the AC in the car you felt warm, happy.

You thought then about how Stu was going to take a lot more pictures to commemorate this next phase of your life and the thought of framing some from this very trip and hanging them on your walls has you feeling so much.

Fuck, you love them.

Another few hours of driving and casual conversation and music on the radio you stop by a park for lunch. Get out to stretch your legs, end up going for a walk. You get some hot dogs from one vendor and ice cream from another. You are walking alongside Billy as you happily were having spoonfuls of rich creamy cool delight, he asked, “You not sick of ice cream yet?”

“Nope.” You said easily, popping the “P” as you did. You looked up and said saccharinely sweet as you offered up a spoonful, “Not when I am having it with you.”

“Gag.” said Stu around a mouthful of hot dog and it made Billy nearly snort and choke on the bite he had taken that you’d held out.

You all continue to joke around and this feels so fucking nice.

The kind of date you missed while you were all broken up.

Soon you all sit near a pond, finishing up your lunch when some ducks swum up, “Ooh cute, look at them.” Stu is breaking off a piece of his hot dog bun and said, “I want to feed them.”

Billy says, “I think bread is bad for ducks.”

Prompting Stu to say, “What?”

“I think I’ve read that bread is bad for ducks.” Billy affirmed with a nod and Stu said, “I think that’s stupid.”

Billy leaned over, a playful shove of his shoulder making Stu fall onto his side as he says, “I think you are stupid.”

You are finishing the last bite of your ice cream as you said, “You are both so mature. What did you get on the SATs again?”

“Not important. Just let me feed the cute ducks some bread Billy!” He whined before saying, “If ducks don’t eat bread what DO they eat?”

“Vegetables, I hear frozen peas are good.” You piped up and Stu threw an arm over his eyes overdramatically, “You too?! Why are you both so against me?”

You can’t help but laugh at how right this feels, how cute and teasing it all is.

After lunch and back in the car you are driving.

It’s getting late and Billy passes out.

He wakes up to you and Stu singing along to something coming from the car speaker. He is sleepy and out of it but soon he recognizes it from that ridiculous camp horror movie you showed him and Stu months back, what was it called? Oh that’s right, Dead And Breakfast. He could clearly see that dumbass zombie cowboy narrator in his head, playing that guitar and half-rapping, half-country-crooning and it had him rolling his eyes.

You and Stu were clearly very into it and his voice still thick with sleep, he rubs at his eyes and asks, “What are you doing?”

“Ayy, he’s awake!” Stu said with a clap and you turned down the music as you told him, “We’re singing our song, duh.”

Billy woke up more at that, sitting up as he said firmly, “That is NOT our song.”

You laughed and asked, “Oh God. Dare I ask, do we NEED a song?”

“Nooo, Billy is right we do but this? It isn’t our song.” Billy clapped him on the shoulder as he said, “Thank you!”

Stu grinned so wide it nearly split his face as he said, “But it should be.”

Billy groaned flopping back against the seats, he should have known better that Stu would not take this opportunity to fuck with him,

You and Stu laughed hard before he said, “Okay, okay so what would be our song, seriously?”

You looked thoughtful for a moment before deadpanning, “Breakfast At Tiffanys.” That had Stu groaning and Billy laughing, well aware of how much he hated that song. He leaned forward as he asked, “Oooh how does that one go again, babe?”

And you said, “Oh yeah, like this-”

A deep breath before belting out, “-and I said what about breakfast at Tiffan-” which had Stu’s hand coming over your mouth effectively stopping you. So you took the chance to lick his palm and he looked over at you, “C’mon. I’ve had my tongue inside your asshole and you think licking my palm is gonna bug me?”

“The man has a point.” Billy admitted and Stu said, “Anyway, it should be One Week by The Barenaked Ladies-”

The brunette threw is hands up, “You and the fucking Barenaked Ladies! That sums up our relationship and is the height of romance to you? One Week?!”

“Well we DID all just experience a very emotionally tumultuous time and a big break-up, I think it fits more than some songs.” Stu finally pulled his hand away from your mouth and you asked, “Do you and Stu have a song just for you both?”

They both shared a look that communicated something, you had no idea what but something before they both said, “We aren’t at liberty to say.”

“What?! After all we said about no secrets?! I cannot believe you two!” You made a sound of mock disgust before they both jumped to defend themselves, talking over each other and you said, “Forget it, if you don’t want to share I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.” They both said and you sighed, “Anyway clearly our song should be Dick In A Box-”

And that is what made Billy break down and Stu almost cry laughing.

Soon after that you find yourselves pulling into a hotel to spend the first night. A nice place, Stu pays with no issue and you all make your way up with the bags you’d packed and get inside. The room is decently sized, the view is nice and it hits that you’ve never stayed in a hotel with them before.

This is exciting. Stu breaks away first and runs to the bed, flings himself onto it and you follow behind him. “This is gonna be so much fun!”

“Hell yeah it is!” Stu confirmed, fists up in the air and Billy looks you both over with a smile.

Room service happens for dinner that night. You all took showers and got into comfier clothing, watched tv and relaxed and took it easy. You glanced over at Billy as you said, “You know this is our first sleepover since everything went down.”

“You’re right. It’s a big occasion. Anything special you want to do?” Stu said, “Oooo they have a pool here! Swimming?”

“We don’t have swimsuits.” You said and he fired back, “Skinny dipping.”

He says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world and you say, “It’s a public pool Stu!”

“Oh pshhh, live a little!” You then say, “You still don’t have your stitches out, so it’s like a double no.”

He sighs, “Pay per view porn is a close second I suppose.” Billy snatches the remote back, “You’re not blue balling us. She's doing that enough as it is.”

You stick your tongue out playfully at him and Billy flipped you off in return, leading Stu to take that as another picture oppertunity.

You end up watching a movie, have some more food, more talking, a pillow fight and Stu taking some more pictures. You liked the one he got of you and Billy wrapped up in hotel robes and reclined on the bed, one of his arms around your shoulders and a towel still around your head.

Billy had taken some of Stu in return, claiming, “You can’t be the only one behind the camera.”

It is so fucking fun.

You all fall asleep curled up in the king sized bed hours later, far too tired after the long day of driving to even think about much else than sleep. You still had a long day tomorrow too.

You ended up having a hot, hot, hot dream.

A dream of getting to finally be with them physically again. Billy kissing you, Stu’s hands trailing up your sides, pulling you down onto him, filling you over and over. Writhing bodies, moans and praise, so much pleasure it is stupid. Heat fills you as they touch and take, fingers skimming over the most sensitive parts of you, it builds, climbs up and up and you wake up nearly on the edge, panting softly and slicked with sweat.

You wake up wet with your hand in your panties, clit throbbing against your fingers, you look over to see your two boys still asleep next to you. Eyes drag down and fuck, yeah it is early morning. You get quite the eyeful, the outline of their dicks painfully clear in the little they wore to bed.

The urge hits at once and you can’t help yourself. Even though your brain is screaming it is a bad idea, you said you’d wait, what if you got caught? You couldn’t hold back, no way. You bite your bottom lip, you want to reach out and touch and taste just like you had done in your dream. Fill your mouth with them and choke yourself on them.

Instead you decide to take care of yourself. You carefully touch as you are next to them, watching them sleep as you rub your clit slowly in soft circles, thinking about that dream you had and all you could do together.

This felt way too good, too hot, doing something this bad and this risky. You rubbed your clit harder, fingers dragged down and dipped into yourself, you bit back a moan as you fingered yourself, curling them just so inside yourself until you clenched down. Your other hand came down, rubbing your clit as your other hand fingered yourself. You were getting far too into it, holding back moans and breathing way too hard.

They looked so good, so peaceful, the emotion of being here in such a vulnerable position, safe in bed with them was getting to you.

You needed to stop before you got caught, you already were wanting to pull them closer and touch them which would go badly, no way could you stop once you got started.

You pull your hands away, slick with your arousal and you make yourself tear away and go to the bathroom. You close the door most of the way and sit on the edge of the tub, can see yourself in the mirror, hands back between your legs, panties shoved out of the way, rubbing and touching, back arching and you give in.

Can let loose a little more, some soft moans slip out, “Billy, fuck! Stu, oh my God-” you breathe out as you continue. You are able to touch yourself much more vigorously like this too, no risk of jostling the bed so much you might wake them.

The images from your dream flit through your mind, the pleasure builds, your legs tense, you pant and soon in a few short minutes you are cumming on your own fingers with a choked off cry of a mix of their names. It hadn’t taken long thanks to your dream and the touching you had done in your sleep. It felt incredible, almost floating on the high of it, hands slow and eventually stopped, pulled away and you sigh. Your hand comes up and you look at your hand, pull your fingers apart, the strings of your slick breaking apart between them before you hum and bring your hand up and sucked them clean. The tang of your own arousal thick on your tongue before you get up on shaky legs and fix your panties back into place. You leave the bathroom, still slightly out of breath and find them both awake in bed.

You flop into bed beside them sighing out, “Good morning.”

“Mornin’.” Billy returned and Stu hummed in acknowledgment. You looked them over and there was no sign that they had overheard or caught on to what you were doing. You leaned over, a kiss pressed to Billy’s mouth which he quickly tried to deepen, causing you to pull away, “Nooo, we said we’d be good.”

They both groaned and Stu said, “Yeahhhh, okay, okay-”

“I know, I know you miss this quality product-” You said with a gesture to yourself and they both laughed, Billy quietly repeating, “Quality product?”

“Yes, I said what I said-” Stu sighed with a smile, “I wish you wouldn’t have.”

You had just cum but you’d be lying if you didn’t want more. You offered up, “A little compromise maybe?”

And they initially were very excited by the prospect you proposed, the early morning make out session in the big hotel bed with wandering hands was great.

Strong hands and so equal, you starting off kissing Billy before you broke away and Stu took over and you leaned in and ran your tongue up the long expanse of his throat and yes it was very fucking nice.

To start.

It was less great when you all had to break apart, the boys still wanting and painfully hard and you trying to play off how wet and wanting you were.

You all dress, pack up, check out and get breakfast next door. All sit and share plates with eggs and hashbrowns and toast covered in butter and jam. You get back on the road, another long day of driving ahead.

At some point near lunchtime you fell asleep in the backseat. When you woke up slightly sore you were confused where you were. Turns out the boys took a detour to some shitty tourist trap, claiming to be the world’s biggest something or other. You get some more pictures, and end up in the gift shop. You all decide on what to buy and it leads Stu to say, “Awe our first glassware as a throuple.”

“They are shot glasses, Stu.” Billy deadpanned and you said, “I’m counting it! First drink the new place has to be from these!”

Back in the car there is more driving until lunch.

It’s a gorgeous day out. Billy has his head in your lap, you are playing with his hair as Stu buys the food. You both talk about what else you need for the place, “I think we should get a rug for the living room. I’m worried the couch is gonna scuff the floor up.”

“Why do you think that will happen?” he asked looking up at you, “I dunno based off how often we fuck on the couch and how agressive a certain someone can get with it-” you tug on his hair lightly earning a quiet, “Ow-”

“-I feel it won’t stay in one place and might move across the floor and cause some damage.” He had to admit you made a good point. “Yeahhh a rug might be a good idea. You opposed to rug burn on your knees?”

“Have I ever been?” You asked with a smile as Stu came back out with the food.

Lunch was fucking great. Enjoying the weather and each other’s company and once it was done, there was yet again, more driving. Billy is up front with you, one hand on your thigh, he had been teasing you a little.

“C’mon, you are fine, you’re all healed up. I bet you I can get you off one handed while I’m driving.”

Dear God did you want to take him up on that but you could see it all playing out in front of you if you gave in. You’d end up on the side of the road stuffed from both ends and you had to fight to give in. It is so fucking hard.

That afternoon the travelling is catching up, all a little talked out, long comfortable stretches of silence that feel so good. It’s great just getting to be in each other’s presence like this.

You drive a long time, have a late dinner and afterwards find yourselves pulling off the road, in a field, laying back shoulder to shoulder and looking up at the night sky together.

You are between them, holding a hand from each of them, you feel close to them, physically and emotionally as you lay in the soft grass and feel the cool breeze.

It starts to overcome and while the trip has been amazing, so fun and jokey, teasing, lots of hot and heavy moments, close calls but not a lot of the heavier stuff.

Right now you are feeling it.

“I missed you both so fucking much.” You said softly. It made them both look over to you. Holding their hands tighter. “We missed you too honey.”

“Seriously, it…It was so hard being apart and while everything all worked out okay I gotta be honesty I was so fucking scared. The whole time we were doing it and when you were both in the hospital.”

You sit up and take a deep breath. Unable to look at them, “I’m still kind of scared to be honest. It…This feels so good, this trip has been amazing and I’m dying for us to live together and do this next step but I’m still scared because it feels too fucking good to be true.”

You feel close to breaking down when you feel both of their arms slip around you. “It is real.”

“Yeah. We’re here. We did it, s’ true.” Stu sighed with his nose pressed to your hair. “I get it though. It’s hard to believe sometimes. I won’t lie, I keep on hanging off you and Stu because I just have to touch you to remind myself that it IS real and you are both here.”

Stu let out a wet sounding laugh. “Oh thank fucking God it isn’t just me.”

You all stay there longer than you should. Talking about your relationship, the summer you lost to being apart and to the exciting year up ahead. The picture you got together in the field with the timer set, you sitting stretched acaross their laps is your favorite of the entire trip.

You are so close, another few hours tomorrow and you will be at the new apartment. Everyone was too beat, you couldn’t finish the drive tonight. You needed another night in a hotel and you found one easily enough.

Driving all day and napping on and off in the car made you feel like you needed a shower. The boys graciously let you go first and you feel so much better afterwards. You get a terrible idea and come out of the bathroom naked, both of them are looking over the tv guide and it took a minute for Stu to look up, lightly smacked Billy in the centre of his chest and got him to look too.

You greeted them casually and easily and pretended to not notice how affected they were. You dug through Stu’s suitcase and stole one of his shirts and slipped it on before getting into bed. They were still watching you and you smiled wide, “You gonna go shower orrr?”

“Uh yeah, totally. Billy?” Stu got up, “Yeah right behind you-” and you let them both go with a laugh. “Be careful you two!”

They share a shower and are extremely careful as you asked, making sure not to disturb each other’s healing injuries or aggravate the stitches. They both shared the spacious hotel shower. Deep kissing, wandering hands, both insanely hard as they breathlessly talk about you between meetings of their mouths. “Wanna fucking wreck her so bad-”

“Same, God, why’d we agree to this shit again?” Stu groaned as Billy nipped at his collar bone, grinding against his hip and he said, “Because we put her through hell and it’s the fucking least we can do, it’s not that much longer.”

“Shit, I know you’re right but it’s so fucking hard, man.” Billy laughed into his neck as his hand slipped between their bodies, gripping Stu’s shaft as he said, “Yeah I can feel it, I know.” Stu ignored his joke but still exhaled harder through his nose in mild acknowlegment of it.

“Think we can talk her into helping us out?” Stu asked and he said, “I fucking doubt it but the idea is tempting me enough to try it.”

When they slip out of the bathroom the light from the tv is the only thing illuminating the room, you are dead asleep and they both look at each other and then out at the hotel balcony.

They sit out there, looking through the open door to you, asleep, shirt half up, both talk to each other, whisper filth of what they could do to you while you were like this and so vulnerable while they jerk off in the cool evening air. “Could spread her legs and you could hold her down.”

“I could eat her out till she’s on the edge without her waking up, I miss the fucking taste of her-”

It doesn’t last long and they both get into bed with you around a half hour later with the taste of each other on their tongues and pass out promptly wrapped up with you.

You all sleep in a bit later than you meant to but you all clearly needed it. After another quick breakfast you hit the road, ready as ever to face whatever was in store in this next chapter of your lives.

[drabbles-mc]

State of Grace (1)

David Hale x OFC (Grace Teller)

Request by Anon: I got a thirst for Hale after seeing a drabble earlier - what about a Hale x reader, where Hale is having an inner battle with his feelings for the younger sister of Jax Teller? Maybe, a situation where both have liked each other for a while, which equally infuriates Clay and Jake respectively, but ultimately, a near miss with Zobelle's crew pushes them together more, and then it's used against Hale, and then ultimately there's fluff?

Warnings: language, alcohol, violence, mentions of violence

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: Oh baby we back with some fresh OC content lmao. I think about Grace and Hale on a regular basis ever since I wrote Got Your Back. I think I’m just going to make this it’s own series-type thing, but not something that I’m gonna commit to updating on a regular basis, just fun little story-drops here and there. However, I will say, that this request is going to take more than one part to complete because I’m taking the time to really build Grace out as a character now. So it’s a bit longer because we got some exposition going on. If you read my other fic for these two, this takes place in the same timeline but earlier, and most of what I’ll be working on for the for the time being is leading up to that fic. Obviously I’m always up for feedback and talking about these two in general. Hoping to continue building this little universe out as time goes on! xo

Chapter Index

SOA Taglist: @garbinge @masterlistforimagines @adela-topaz-caelon @mijop @chibsytelford @thanossexual @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @kkim120 @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @jitterbugs927 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @bellisperennis0 @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @beardburnsupersoldiers @mveggieburger @xeniarocks @choochoo284​ @littlekittymeow​ @beardsanddetectives​ @thewineandthewomen​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!)

She recognized the Jeep as soon as it rolled onto the lot. Before he had any reason to walk into the T-M office, or over and into the clubhouse, she made her way over and met him in the middle of the parking lot. Hale was looking around, clearly trying to locate someone specific.

Tucking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, she gave him an acknowledging nod before saying, “Deputy Chief,” her smile was a little too much to be taken as sincere, “to what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Jax around?” he continued to scan the compound.

She rolled her eyes, “It’s always Is Jax around? Or Where’s Clay? It’s never Oh hey, Gracie, how are you today?”

He sighed, hands coming to rest on his belt as he tried not to let himself smile, “Hey, Grace. How are you today?”

She smiled, “Just fine, David. Thanks for asking,” she paused, “In answer to your question, though, Jax left a while ago.”

“Know when he’ll be back?”

She shook her head, “Not a clue. That kinda thing is above my paygrade.”

He didn’t believe her in the slightest, but he wasn’t going to argue with her either, “Right. Let him know we need to talk when he comes back, alright?”

“Sounds like he’s in for a bad breakup or something,” she chuckled.

“He’s not that lucky,” he gave a nod as he said goodbye, “Stay outta trouble, Grace.”

“Well if we all did that, we’d never get to see you, Officer.”

He fought the urge to chuckle at her sarcasm, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

She laughed, shaking her head, “Guess you’ll never get to find out.”

She watched him as he made his short walk back to his Jeep before turning and heading towards the clubhouse. She’d stopped wondering why the cops would stop by a long time ago—there were too many variables at this point for her to try and make an educated guess. When Jax got back she’d let him know that Hale stopped by, but she knew better than to follow up with a question about it.

Opie was walking out of the clubhouse just as Grace was about to walk in. They both laughed as they almost body-slammed into each other. She braced herself against his chest, shaking her head at herself as she regained her bearings.

“Shit, sorry.”

He shook his head, a small smile on his face, “All good,” he glanced over her shoulder and momentarily locked eyes with Hale before he threw his Jeep in reverse and began pulling out of the lot, “What’d the paper boy want?”

She chuckled as she stepped to the side, letting Opie walk the rest of the way out of the clubhouse, “Same shit as usual—looking for Jax.”

“He say why?”

“I never get the why around here, Ope. You know that.”

“You just gotta ask me,” he smirked.

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head, “I want the real why. Not whatever you’ll come up with to try and make me feel better.”

“Well now you’re just getting picky.”

She smiled but shifted gears of the conversation, “You know when Jax is getting back?”

Shaking his head, he replied, “That’s an answer that I don’t even have.”

“Well, if you see him before I do, let him know that he’s a wanted man, alright?”

“Will do,” he paused, “You around later?”

With a nod, she smiled, “Where else would I ever be?” she gave him a quick hug before turning back and making her way into the clubhouse.

That night, the party was well underway. The guys had asked Grace to cover the bar just this once because the prospect was currently out of commission. When she asked why, they didn’t give an answer, but she saw the looks of amusement on their faces and decided that maybe it was better that she didn’t know. That being the case, she found herself behind the bar watching all of them get themselves into various sorts of trouble.

She was behind the bar nursing her own beer when Jax came over. It was the first time she’d seen him all night, and judging by the exhaustion on his face, she assumed that he’d just gotten back from wherever he’d been all day.

“No offense,” she grabbed him a beer, “but you look like shit.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “None taken. I feel like shit too.”

She studied his face for a few moments before asking, “Do I get to know, or…?”

Jax sighed, pushing his hair back out of his face before taking a long drink from his bottle, “Same shit. Spent all morning at the hospital trying to figure out a plan for Abel, trying to get shit sorted with Wendy, and by the time I was trying to just come back here or go home, Hale called me in.”

Grace nodded, not wanting to seem like she was trying to pry, “Anything I can help with?”

With a deep sigh, Jax shook his head, “Nah, I gotta figure it out for myself.”

“Don’t let Gemma hear you talking like that,” Grace said with a chuckle, “She’s been chomping at the bit to do, you know, everything.”

“Nothin’ new, Gracie,” Jax smiled and shook his head.

“What’d Hale want, though?” she asked it like it was an after-thought, like it wasn’t something that had been on her mind since he showed up at T-M earlier in the day, “He stopped by here this afternoon looking for you, too.”

Jax gave a dismissive shake of his head, “Stupid shit—just trying to swing his dick around after all the shit with the ATF went the way it did. Wants me to know that he’s still around, and so are they.”

“Like you didn’t already know,” she chuckled and shook her head.

“Yea, exactly.”

“Well,” she crouched down behind the bar for a moment and reemerged with two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila, “You have some time to make up for since you’re late. I’ll help you catch up,” she smiled as she expertly filled the shot glasses to the very top while managing to not spill any onto the surface of the bar.

Jax chuckled as he took the shot glass, “You’ve been hanging out with Ope too much.”

“Maybe you’ve been hanging out with us too little,” she shot back with a smile before raising the shot glass, tossing it back and making a face as it ran down her throat. Shuddering slightly, she took a swig of her beer, “Clearly not hanging out with him enough to not be bothered by that anymore. Fuck.”

“You’re terrible influences,” Jax smiled as he set the now-empty shot glass back down on the bar, rapping his knuckles on the hardwood before turning and heading towards the rest of the men who had been there waiting for him all night.

As the night was starting to wind down, Grace strayed from her position behind the bar so she could mingle with everyone, something she felt like she hadn’t really been able to do over the last few weeks as she got so wrapped up in her own life. She’d grown up in the clubhouse, and up until the last year or so she’d assumed that it was going to continue to be her whole life. Gemma certainly never made it seem like there was any other option for her. And, while Grace had no burning desire to get out of Charming, she also didn’t want her life to depend completely on the club. She loved her brother, and all of the men in the MC, but she wasn’t naïve—she knew that it wouldn’t take much for everything they did to catch up with them and take them all down. If that happened, she didn’t want to be left with nothing.

Once she came to that conclusion, she started to put some serious thought into what she wanted to do. It wasn’t a question she’d asked herself before, at least not in the capacity to act on whatever answer she came up with. But for weeks she looked at different jobs, different school programs, things that wouldn’t have to take her halfway across the country in order to get what she needed. At one point she stumbled across a nursing program, and she almost brushed it off thinking that no hospital would ever take her seriously as a nurse, but it was intriguing and it gnawed at her.

So, unbeknownst to almost everyone, she was anxiously awaiting acceptance letters from a few different nursing programs. All of her free time was spent reading up, trying to get ahead of the curve if that was at all possible at this point. She didn’t want to tell anyone, though, just in case it didn’t pan out. The only person who did know was Opie, and that was because he’d caught her when she was looking at different programs and financial aid.

For the first time in weeks, though, she wasn’t thinking about any of that. It wasn’t even lingering in the back of her mind. She found herself at the pool table with her brother and Opie, Jax watching the two of them duke it out for the best out of three. Opie usually bested her with ease, but he’d been drinking a lot longer than her and that was the only thing that was giving her any kind of advantage.

“Oh, come on, bro,” Jax laughed and shook his head as Opie narrowly missed the shot that would’ve won him the game, “You’re cut off. You should just call it a night at this point.”

Grace laughed as she leaned against her pool stick, “I don��t like that you seem so disgusted by me winning,” she turned her attention to Opie, “But he’s right. You should head to bed.”

The three of them stood around talking for a little while longer, happy to have a small stretch of time that existed outside the chaos that usually shaped their lives. Grace could see the exhaustion creeping back into the features of her brother’s face after a while, and she knew that if she didn’t break the conversation, neither of them would either.

“Alright,” she tossed her pool stick onto the table, “you both crashing here tonight? Neither of you need a lift home?”

“Like you’d be able to give us one if we did,” Jax chuckled.

Rolling her eyes, Grace gave her brother a good-natured shove, “I’d let you ride bitch if you asked real nice.”

“Hard pass,” both the men responded in unison with a laugh.

“Fine,” she tried to sound annoyed but she couldn’t stop laughing, “Have fun sleeping in your matchboxes tonight, then,” she hugged and kissed each of them on the cheek, “See you idiots tomorrow.”

“Text when you’re home, Gracie!” Opie called after her.

Turning to face them, she walked backwards towards the clubhouse doors, “Sure thing, Dad!”

She walked across the lot to her bike, still laughing quietly to herself and shaking her head at the antics of the evening. All the stress she’d been shouldering in silence over the last few weeks finally felt like it was starting to melt away. She hopped onto her bike with ease, clipping her helmet on before taking off out of the lot.

She was cruising down the empty street, taking her time getting back to her apartment. Her bike was the only real noise at that point in the night, the scattered streetlamps giving her enough light to safely zone out a bit as she drove back the same way she’d gone countless times before.

Slowing to a stop at one of the few red lights in Charming, she heard a car coming up behind her. Checking her mirror, she inched forward when she saw how close they were. They didn’t move any closer, so she didn’t think much about it. Soon enough, the light turned green and she continued her way home.

The car continued to follow her, and for no reason in particular it didn’t sit right with her. So instead of going straight home, she started to take random turns and go down side-streets that didn’t get her any closer to her final destination. When they managed to follow her every step of the way, she felt a familiar feeling of dread creeping up her spine. Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her grip and sped up a bit. At that point, she had no real destination in mind. There wasn’t much open, and she didn’t want to lead whoever it was back to the clubhouse. As long as she could stay a little ahead of them, and keep up her speed, she could buy herself another couple of minutes to think of somewhere to go.

She ended up at the only other mechanic shop in their small town. She didn’t know why—it wasn’t like she knew anyone there. No one would be there to help her, but maybe her brain just knew that a mechanic shop is a place full of weapons if you knew where to look.

Launching herself off of her bike, she sprinted her way towards the one work bay that didn’t have the garage door pulled down all the way. Swinging herself underneath it, she scrambled in the dark and looked for anything that she could use to fight someone off. She hadn’t seen anyone in the passenger seat of the car, so unless there were people in the back seat, whoever was coming after her was flying solo. One on one odds were always better than any other scenario.

It was only a matter of seconds before the door was being pushed up the rest of the way, light from the single lamp in the lot streaming in. Grace gripped the tire iron tight in her hand as she faced the person who had been chasing her down. Whoever it was had a ski mask over their face, and a black hooded sweatshirt. There was no way for her to tell who it was.

“If you don’t leave me the fuck alone, I swear to God,” her hands were trembling but her voice was steady.

The laugh was deep, and the person shook their head, “What? You’ll go crying to your brother? Your dad?” they stepped in closer, “You’re out of places to run, Grace.”

“What the hell do you want from me?” she raised the iron like it was a baseball bat, more than ready and willing to swing.

“Not from you—from Clay and Jax.”

“Take it up with them, then,” for as much as her brother kept her in the loop of things going on with the club, he never mentioned that they’d pissed off someone new who was willing to corner their family members in the dead of night.

“That’s what we need you for. Need you to pass along a message for me.”

“Take off your mask and do it yourself!” she ran at them and swung for all she was worth.

They blocked the worst of the blow with their arm, not that that felt great either. But Grace still felt the metal connect with their skull a little bit. She swung again, catching them in the stomach and making them double over. She went to pull it back to swing again, but they grabbed it, pulling her in close and throwing her to the ground. Despite the fact that it caught her off-guard, she maintained her grip on her makeshift weapon, using it to try and keep the person from getting complete control of it to use against her.

She was on her back, her attacker standing over her, one foot planted on either side of her hips. They were trying to pull the tire iron out of her hands but somehow, despite the sweat pooling in her palms, she didn’t let go. It was a last-ditch effort, but with a grunt she put all of her strength into one good tug to try and pull the person down to the ground with her. She was partially successful, at least getting them low enough to make their knees buckle slightly. Taking advantage of the situation, she drove her knee up into their groin, hard. They let out a groan of pain that resulted in them letting go of the rod. Grace quickly leapt to her feet, turning and cracking them hard across the cheek one more time before throwing it to the side and sprinting back towards her bike.

She didn’t remember putting her helmet on, or even getting her bike onto the road. The next thing she knew, she was outside her apartment. She got off her bike and all but ran, fumbling with her keys as she desperately tried to get into her apartment as soon as possible. Shutting and doing all of the locks behind her, she slumped back against her door. Only when she caught her breath did she realize the severity of what had happened to her that night. The tears began to flow as she rested her forehead against her knees, unable to make herself move from that spot. She knew that there would be no sleep for her the rest of the night. Part of her wanted to reach out to Jax or Opie, or even Clay if she was being honest. But something in the back of her mind told her to keep it to herself for the time being. Maybe in the daylight, when her heartrate was evened back out, she would come up with a better plan of action.

Sleep came to her in brief snippets as the light started to come through the windows of her apartment. The rest of the night had been quiet, uneventful. But it did nothing to calm her nerves. With still-trembling hands, she got up and forced herself to go and take a shower. If nothing else, it would be an attempt to rinse off all that had happened to her.

Meanwhile, David was walking into the diner that his brother had invited him to so-last minute. It wasn’t like Jake to want to meet up and grab breakfast just because, so he knew that there must’ve been more to it. And, sure enough, there were two other men sitting in the booth with him. David sighed inwardly as he took a seat next to his brother, facing the men on the other side of the booth.

He didn’t recognize either of them, and he recognized everyone in Charming by that point. One of them looked very much like a businessman. The other, though, looked like he was military, or at least had been at some point in the past. There was something in the way he sat, though, that told David that the man was not bound by the same honor code that most soldiers were. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, or his rigid posture, or the gash and bruise that went across the left side of his face. Whatever it was, David wasn’t a fan.

His suspicions were only solidified as the conversation got underway. He couldn’t believe that his older brother had brought him here thinking that anything those two men had to say, would be something that he was interested in. David was only able to make himself sit at the table for a couple minutes before not-so-gracefully excusing himself. He could hear his older brother offering up an apology on his behalf as he made his way to the diner door, and it took all of his self-control not to make a scene right then and there. He kept his fists balled at his sides, trying to ignore the sound of his brother attempting to catch up to him in the parking lot to justify what had just taken place.

Grace walked into the station, glancing around to see if she could find him without having to ask around. There were multiple officers milling about, but none of them were the one that she was looking for. With a sigh, she made her way over towards Unser’s office. His door was open, but she still gave it a light knock as she stood in the threshold.

Looking up from the stack of paperwork in front of him, his eyes widened slightly when he realized who was standing in front of him, “Gracie. What, what brings you here?”

“David here today?”

His brows furrowed in confusion but he nodded, “Yea, just stepped out real quick—had to meet his brother. Should be back soon, though,” he paused, searching her face, “Everything alright?”

She nodded but it wasn’t her most convincing performance, “Yea, all good—just want to talk to him about something real quick.”

“Anything I can help you with?”

She shook her head, “No, no don’t worry about it,” she lightly drummed her fingers on the doorframe, “Which one is his office again?”

Unser nodded in the general direction, “Two more down on the right.”

She nodded, doing her best to give a genuine smile, “Got it. Thanks, chief.”

Grace was already back out the door when Unser called out to her. When she reappeared, he said, “You know that if you ever need anything, all you gotta do is ask, right?”

She could see it in his eyes that he was being completely genuine in his offer, “I know. Thank you, Wayne.”

There was something about the way that she spoke, the way that she said his name, that reminded him so much of her mother. Maybe that was why he had such a soft spot for her, because there was so much of Gemma in her despite their differences. In his mind, Gemma would’ve been a lot more like Grace if she ever got the chance to be soft. He hoped that Grace didn’t get that opportunity ripped away from her as well.

Grace strolled into Hale’s office. Looking back over her shoulder, she found herself wandering around looking at what he had there. He clearly wasn’t much of a decorator, not that she found that to be all that surprising. There were a few scattered picture frames, but for the most part everything had to do with work.

She passively scanned over the folders that were sitting on the top of his desk, nails lightly clacking against the hardwood. She wondered what else Charming PD really did when they weren’t caught up in everything going on with the MC.

Before she could get too nosey, the sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the silence of the office. She looked up, eyes wide at having been caught. Hale was standing in the doorway, paperwork tucked under one arm and a coffee in the opposite hand. He tried to put together why she was there, and starting to go through his things, without having to ask, but he came up empty.

“Unser said you were waiting for me?”

“Um, yea,” she walked back to the side of the desk she was supposed to be on, “I was hoping to talk to you about something.”

He shrugged, nodding slightly, “Sure,” he shut the door behind him and walked over, taking a seat at his desk. Grace followed suit and watched him as he filed away all the papers and folders, most likely because he saw her on the brink of looking through them. When his space was finally cleared, he looked across at her, “What’s going on?”

She sighed, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees, “Look. I, I know you’re the wrong sheriff to be going to to ask for help but I’m…I don’t know what else to do.”

His brows furrowed, “You can always come to me for help.”

“If I do, do you promise not to go to the club about it?”

“I don’t know if you’ve realized, Grace, but it’s not like Clay and Jax and I are exactly friends.”

It got a tiny smile out of her, “That’s fair. But, also,” she paused, twisting her hands together, “you can’t tell Unser.” That got his attention, Grace could see it plain as day on his face. She shook her head slightly, “He’s gonna go right to Gemma or Clay and I, I can’t fucking deal with that.”

“Depending on what it is, Grace, I can’t keep it from him.”

Leaning back in her chair, she rolled her eyes, “You guys hide shit from each other all the time.”

“He hides shit from me all the time,” Hale corrected her, “Usually to help out your brother and Clay.”

Grace suddenly felt very small sitting there in the office with him. Her gaze dropped to the floor as she started to second-guess coming to him at all. She wanted to jump ship on the entire idea, but she knew that there was no way she was going to leave that office without telling him something. The seconds of silence felt like hours as he sat there, waiting for her to try and explain what was going on.

“Someone followed me last night when I was leaving the compound,” she felt her heart starting to speed up again. Shaking her head at herself, she forged onward, “Tried to shake ‘em, but I couldn’t. Ended up at that Albanian shop on the other side of town.”

Hale nodded, not liking the story already but he had the feeling there was more to it, “You get the plate number?”

She shook her head, “No. I should’ve, I know. But I just, I freaked out,” she ran her fingers back through her hair, “It was an SUV, though. Either black or dark blue,” she watched him scribble down what she was saying onto one of his notepads.

“Anything else you can tell me?”

“He tried attacking me,” it felt strange to say it out loud, “I, um, I panicked and ran into one of the work bays. Grabbed a tire iron. He was, uh, he was wearing a ski mask,” her leg bounced rapidly, “Didn’t get to see his face.”

Concern and confusion were etched deep into his features, “He say anything?”

She nodded, unable to look him in the eyes, “Some shit about the club. It was all real vague. I don’t know shit about what they’re doing these days,” it was partially true.

“Did he hurt you?” the look in his eyes reminded Grace that even though Hale was a cop now, at one point the two of them were something resembling friends, and that wasn’t something that just dissipated into thin air because they grew apart over the years.

“He tried,” she wiped at the tears she hadn’t felt coming on, “I’m fine, really. Physically anyway. He’s in worse shape than me. Got him good on the cheek with the iron when I finally got a chance to get away.”

Hale’s brows knitted together, “Left or right side of his face?”

“Um,” she stared down at the floor for a moment as she tried to remember, “left, I’m pretty sure,” she mimed the motion to be certain, “Yea, left.”

A knot began to form in his stomach, but he tried to ignore it, “You want to make an official report?”

She sighed, body beginning to tremble, “I really don’t know, David. I don’t even have anything to really report—I don’t know shit about whoever it was, or what they drove. I just…didn’t want to go to the club about this if it’s about them.”

He didn’t know what to offer her. All the things that he would offer someone else, he knew that she would shoot down. She wasn’t going to want an escort, or for him to be checking in on her while she was working or hanging around the clubhouse. It was bad enough when he showed up there in search of the guys in the MC, let alone making it seem like she was the one getting into trouble.

As if she could read his mind, she spoke up, “I don’t know what I expect you to do with this, David. I needed…I needed someone I could trust. And I know,” she chuckled and wiped at her eyes, “I know I give you a lot of shit because you grew up to be a narc,” it got a chuckle out of both of them, “But you’ve always had my back. And I didn’t know who else really would.”

Hale already had his suspicions, but he didn’t want to worry her anymore than she already was. He gave a slow nod, looking at the sparse notes on his paper before looking back up at her, “I’ll keep an eye and an ear out, see what I can dig up. Anything that I find, you’ll be the first to know,” he paused, “You remember anything else, call me or come see me, alright? Anything else happens, same thing.”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, “Okay.”

“We’ll get him, Grace,” there was a comforting certainty in his tone, “Promise.”

She gave a weak, tired smile, “Thanks, Deputy,” standing up, she tried to regain her composure, “I’ll let you get back to building my brother’s rap sheet.”

He chuckled, “It’s a full-time job.”

He watched her as she made her way to his door, letting herself out. He watched as she easily slipped through the station practically undetected. With a deep sigh, he tapped his pen on his paper a few times before scribbling down the names of the two men he’d met with that morning. The first thing on his agenda now was to look up absolutely everything he could find on them, and just what they really would want with the Sons.

[polecat-pondering]

Blog 5 - Experience the Experience.

“…we don’t watch movies or read books to hear about an experience. We want to experience the experience.” – Michael Kardos

Michael Kardos - MS State Univ.

The best books suck you in and feel like a true experience. It doesn’t matter if you are fighting your way to Mount Doom to destroy the ring or rushing past Boo Radley’s creepy house. It feels real.

I really like how Michael Kardos breaks down writing scenes. He makes it feel like I can do it. I had never thought of dialogue as a part of a scene, but that could be because I think “scenery” rather than just “scene”!

Exposition is the hardest thing for me to avoid. There is so much in my head, and I fall into the trap of thinking my readers need to know everything I know. Editing is my friend and I spend a lot of time with my friend…

My story takes place almost exclusively in a single room and is heavily dependent on dialogue between my human character and my AI character. The room (almost) doesn’t matter. About the only descriptions of static items presented will be to give a fuller picture of the character, so I can try to avoid some of that pesky exposition. I expect I will have to use some interiority as well but hope to avoid it. I would like the conversation to carry the story as much as possible.

I am a big fan of dialogue. I hope this doesn’t concern the psych students too much, but I can hear character voices in my head. I grew up with a musical family. I did not get the gift of music, but I have a good ear for music and for voices, which are a song all their own. When I build a character, I tend to “borrow” a voice from a real person. They generally are nothing like the character, but to me, their voice fits. Because I have the good fortune to meet a lot of people on a regular basis, I “collect” voices and faces. When I create a character, I sit quietly and wait for the voice and face to present themselves.

Quietly might have been an overstatement...

[ssa-babygirl]

Out of My League [Part 2]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.5k (ohohohoho i went OVERBOARD with the dialogue here I am sorry for all the useless exposition)

Summary: Most things have changed in the last 10 years, but it’s safe to say that a few things stayed exactly the same. Mixed POV

Warning(s): Mentions of past bullying, mentions of cheating, mentions of kidnapping, general criminal minds stuff, cursing, VERY VERY BRIEF MENTION of a miscarriage and leukemia like it’s one sentence and that’s all

Author’s Note: The moment yall have been waiting for! They grow up so fast!! I’m going on a quick trip this week and then heading back to school a few days later, so the next part may take a little longer, but I’m super excited to write it!!

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Las Vegas, Nevada, 2004

(Spencer’s POV)

My first case out on the field was not a pleasant one. Well, it rarely is, that’s what happens when you work for the FBI to catch serial killers. For the first couple of weeks at the BAU, I helped them consult on cases, but they weren’t sure I was ready to go out on the field with them. After I got my weapon certification, Gideon told me he wanted me to come along on the next case because I was familiar with the area. There had been a series of child abductions near Vegas, my hometown. I would have been much more nervous about traveling had I not been able to see my mom while I was there. I hadn’t visited her in a while and the guilt was gnawing at me.

The first day was brutal. Hotch made some of us go back to the hotel late at night, but it was hard for us to sleep. JJ hated working cases about children, so she went to have a quick drink at the hotel bar, where she promptly forgot her purse and had to call me from her room to go get it for her. I had no hope of getting any rest that night, so I figured I’d take a walk down the hall and try to clear my head. 

There was no sign of the purse at first glance, no small black clutch on the bar like JJ said. But there was a woman cleaning glasses behind the counter, maybe she knew where the purse was.

As I approached the bar, the woman’s features took a familiar shape and triggered a distant memory. Seeing her face again was like coming home after a long drive without a map, squinting through the dark and hoping the headlights would get brighter when finally, you’re pulling onto a road that you know by heart. 

I didn’t need to look at her nametag, I already knew who she was, but judging by her polite smile borne solely out of the courtesy required to work in the service industry, she didn’t recognize me. In her defense, I had grown about a foot and a half since the last time she saw me. And I got a freaking haircut. 

“Y-Y/N?” 

She looked up from her rags and scrunched up her face in confusion.

“Okay, so you definitely know me, and I am so sorry about this, but I can’t quite place it. You look so familiar, though, I just… I meet a lot of people with this job, I’m so sorry, I forgot your name.”

I grinned, she still had that same habit of apologizing every five seconds, “I don’t really have that problem, eidetic memory and all.”

Her eyes widened, “Spencer? Spencer Reid!”

I laughed and nodded.

“You’re so tall now! What has it been, like, 10 years? Oh my goodness, come here.” She awkwardly leaned over the bar and hugged me. She still used the same shampoo. 

“How ya been, kid?”

“I’m good! H-How are you?”

“Doing fine, thanks. What brings you back to good ol’ Sin City?”

“I’m here for work.”

“Oh, and what are you doing now?” She leaned on the counter and gazed up with curious eyes, “Helping the doctors at Area 51?”

Good to know she still had jokes, “No actually, I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

“Woah, you’re a fed now?”

“Yeah, we’re investigating a series of--”

“Kidnappings. Yeah. Scary shit. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m good.”

“You close to catching the guy?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Any of the kids turn up?”

“Unfortunately, yes. We found one boy this morning. He… didn’t make it.”

Her face dropped to a look of worry I hadn’t seen since she took off my blindfold that day on the football field, “Name. I need a name,” her voice grew hoarse.

“I can’t really disclose that information.”

“Spencer, please. Every day my kid comes home from school and asks me if I was watching the news.”

I couldn’t deny the way my heart sank at the news, but I could sure as hell ignore it, “Y-You have kids?”

“One. Little Jamie. His best friend, Robbie, is missing.” Robbie Carter, age five, he’s been missing for the past two weeks. He’s likely dead, but we still haven’t found him.

“Every time someone misses school he gets scared they got taken too. Baby Boy doesn’t understand flu season yet.”

“How old is he?” I had to get her mind off of this. I don’t want to worry her.

“Five. Just started kindergarten. Wanna see a picture?” Seems like I succeeded. 

“Sure.”

She whipped out her phone and pulled up a picture of Jamie on his first day of school, backpack far too big for his body. Y/N was posed next to him, the picture too small to show that she was crying ever so slightly.

“Adorable, right?”

I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face, “Cute kid. Looks just like you.”

She looked back at the photo and smiled softly, “Except the eyes. He’s got his dad’s eyes.”

I glanced down at her hand holding the phone and was greeted with a pleasant surprise, “I’m guessing Jamie’s dad isn’t in the picture?”

Offense flickered across her features for a second, her eyebrows twitching and lips pursing, “How’d you know?”

“No ring.”

“You do work for the FBI.”

“Would you mind telling me what happened?”

“You know, you’re supposed to be the one spilling your sorrows to the bartender, not the other way around.”

“You don’t have to tell me, just thought we could catch up, I haven’t seen you in ten years.”

She sighed, returning her phone to the front pocket in her apron, “Remember Kyle Brothers?”

“Oh, do I? Yeah, of course, I remember your high school boyfriend, Y/N. What tipped you off, the eidetic memory, or the fact he used to beat me up after gym class?” It was more like the intense rage and jealousy I had when they got back together after football season ended.

“God, see, I always knew he was an asshole, but it never seemed to faze me, I’m so sorry about that.”

“You did what you could. And you apologize too much.”

“Sor--”

She froze mid-word and made a face as she realized once again that she was about to apologize yet again. I stifled a chuckle, but she laughed and grabbed a rag from the counter to finish cleaning the glasses.

“So Kyle?”

“Yes, Kyle. We broke up again before college, I was going out of state and didn’t wanna do long distance, you know all that. I was in a really bad place during my senior year of college, so after graduation, I decided to move back home for a bit, spend some time with my mom--”

“How is she?”

“She’s great! Moved to D.C. with my dad a while back.”

“I should visit her, Quantico isn’t far.” 

She returned a genuine smile, “She would love that.”

“Sorry I interrupted you, keep going.”

“You’re fine. Long story short, moving back home for a few months turned into having a one night stand with my ex. Which turned into us getting engaged nine months later while I’m exhausted and holding my son.”

“Well, that’s a fun birth story for Jamie.”

“Yeah, ‘Happy Birthday, sweetie, your father proposed to me while you were, like, an hour old and then cheated on me six months later.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.” She popped the p, “Came home and heard two things: Jamie fussing in his sleep from the playpen and bedsprings squeaking in our room.”

“I’m guessing that you guys were done for good after that?”

“Nice detective work.”

“Technically, I’m a profiler, not a detective, as they typically work in local police departments and I work for the federal government, not a precinct--”

“Jesus, kid, you’re gonna put the poor lil lady to sleep,” I turned around and saw Morgan crossing the lobby to the bar, still in his work clothes.

“If I'm yawning it’s from my double shift, not his rambling. It’s been a while since I heard a good Spencer Reid knowledge dump.”

“You two know each other?” He leaned on the bar and I could sense him turning on the classic Derek Morgan charm.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Uh, Y/N, this is SSA Derek Morgan, we work together, Morgan, this is Y/N L/N, we went to high school together.” The “I had a huge crush on her” was silent.

“Nice to meet you, doll,” he reached out a hand to shake yours. His eyes lingered on you for a bit too long, and I recognized the look in her eyes from the way she talked to Kyle in the halls before our study sessions, and I didn’t like any of that one bit.

Derek turned back to me, “JJ sent you down here a while ago, she’s looking for you.”

I glanced at Y/N and tried to hide the cocktail of emotions in my mind, “I guess I just lost track of time.”

He probably caught onto something because his regular teasing smirk flashed on across his face, “You guess, sure, loverboy, I’ll be in our room. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He left and she waved, watching him as he left.

“JJ?” She asked, turning back to me.

“Coworker of mine, she left her purse down here and sent me to get it for her.”

“Oh, Blondie from earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“She seemed nice. So pretty!” She reached below the bar and pulled out the small black purse that was left behind about an hour before, holding it up to me and cocking an eyebrow.

“Yep.” 

“How long have you two been working together? Long enough to be more than coworkers?”

I laughed uncomfortably, “Uh, n-no, actually this is actually my first case on the field, before this I only really helped the team consult on cases, but this one was urgent and I wanted to visit my mom so they brought me along.”

“Well, send Diana my love.”

“Of course. And if you hear anything from Jamie about another missing kid, give us a call.” I reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, sliding it to her and leaving with a sympathetic smile, wishing I could say more.

              (Reader POV)

About a week after you ran into Spencer, you were closely following the story as it unfolded on the news. Another kid had gone missing, the second in two weeks. His name was Drew Olson, he was a year older than Jamie. They didn’t find a body yet, so there was still hope. Robbie hadn’t turned up either, which was the best news you had about him. No other bodies have shown up yet, and the cause of death for the boy they found was starvation, so the guy probably didn’t want to hurt these kids.

Regardless of whether or not the situation was actually dangerous, the school still increased security, since two of the victims were students. The pickup line was heavily monitored by teachers and faculty to make sure all students went home with their parents. You had gotten there a bit later than usual, forcing you to the back of the crowd where you couldn’t see the kids as they came out of the building. 

When you finally got up towards the front, there were only a handful of kids left.

And Jamie wasn’t one of them.

Panic started to twist your stomach into knots, but the rational part of your brain clawed at the inside of your skull saying he was just inside, he was waiting in a classroom, he was safe.

You pushed through to the teacher that was keeping track of names on her clipboard. She was younger, just about your age, and wore wire-framed glasses that complimented her dark braids. She gave a warm smile and asked for your child’s name.

“Brothers, Jamie Brothers.”

“Alrighty, let’s see--” she paused as her finger stopped over a name highlighted by a bright green, indicating that the child had been picked up: Jamie Brothers.

“He’s not here.”

“What? What do you mean he’s not here?” The part of your brain that said he was safe fucked right off and left you a shaking mess on the pavement. The teacher reached an arm out and held you by the elbow as your knees buckled beneath you. Other parents’ attention was suddenly directed towards you. 

“Ma’am, the sheet says he was picked up already.”

“But by who? Not me! So who the hell took my son?” All eyes were on you as you didn’t even bother to control the volume of your voice. 

“Mrs. Brothers, please remain calm, I’m sure there’s been a mistake, I can send someone in to find him inside the school.”

“Please…” You whimpered, unable to find your breath.

...Give us a call…

Spencer’s words echoed in your mind and you knew what you had to do, so you scrambled through your bag for the card you were given the week before. You frantically cursed under your breath as you searched for your wallet. You finally found it, taking it out with your phone so you could call the number on the card. It rang once, twice, three times before an unfamiliar voice crackled through on the other side. 

“Agent Hotchner.”

“Are you with the FBI?”

“...Yes, who is this?”

“My name is Y/N L/N, Spencer Reid gave me this number if I knew anything.”

“Do you have information regarding the recent abductions?”

“My son’s been taken.” You could feel the lump in your throat nearly restricting any words from coming out.

“Hold on, ma’am, where are you?”

“I’m at the school, he’s not here. I came to get him and he’s not here, I don’t know what to do!”

“Miss L/N, stay put, we’re on our way.” The call ended with a click and suddenly the world went quiet. There was nothing but the rush of blood pounding in your ears. All you could do was stare blankly at nothing in particular as the phone fell from your hand, hitting the pavement, your knees following quickly behind. You felt the bruises on impact, but you couldn’t care less about how much pain you were in, not when you felt this numb. Your pain didn’t matter anymore, all that mattered was that Jamie was missing and you were powerless to help. The remaining parents surrounded you, all clutching the shoulders of their children, their safe children, the ones they didn’t have to call the fucking FBI to pick up from school today.

When your brain was able to process information again, you noticed the school parking lot had filled with police cars, including two large black SUVs. You squinted through the inappropriately bright sunlight and the bitter tears in your eyes to see a tall man in a dark suit approach you. Behind him, a scrawny young man in a plaid buttondown was following closely.

You recognized him right away this time.

“Spencer,” your voice was barely a whisper as you attempted to stand on your shaking legs. You looked straight past the man in the suit and scrambled over to him. Before you could even reach him, his arms were stretched out to you, enveloping you in a tight hug as soon as you were close enough.

Your heart had to be beating out of your chest, and you were sure he felt it against him. The tears running down your cheeks stained his shirt, soaking him to the skin as he cradled your head against his chest, trying to do whatever he could to make you feel safe again, no matter how scared he was.

The man in the suit was now joined by an older man in a brown jacket and the man you met at the bar the other night, Derek, you think his name was. The suit turned to you and Spencer and introduced himself as Agent Hotchner, the man you spoke to on the phone. He asked you to describe what happened when you arrived, if you saw anyone who looked out of place, if you saw evidence of a struggle. Spencer’s arms never left your frame the whole time you spoke.

“Thank you very much, Miss L/N, I promise we’ll find your son, we have time on our side. Reid, stay with her in the meantime, Morgan, go question the parents, Gideon and I will talk to the monitors and see if they knew who picked Jamie was picked up by.”

“Yes, sir.”

All the men left to complete their tasks except for Spencer, who was supposed to stay put with you. The second you were alone with him once again, your face returned to the spot on his dampened shirt where it had previously been. One of his hands was planted firmly on your upper back, the other stroking your hair between his fingers.

It’s strange, really. Last time you saw him he was just a kid. A brilliant, sweet, small kid. The kid who’s hair you’d fuck with. The kid you held after his bullies hurt him. Then you don’t see him for over a decade and suddenly the roles are reversed. He was tall enough to rest his chin on your head now, which you had mixed feelings about, but you couldn’t deny it calmed you down. Almost as much as his quick yet steady heartbeat drumming right in your ear. The kid was still skinny, but his hugs were still warm. 

“You’re alright, we’re gonna find him,” he whispered into your hair, but you had a feeling those words weren’t only for you. After a few minutes, the three other agents returned to where you and Spencer stood, alerting the two of you that the team would be heading back to the police station where you were welcome to wait with them. Derek figured you were too shaken to drive yourself, so he offered to let you ride along with him and Spencer in the SUV, which you did not hesitate to accept.

Once at the station, you were greeted by the blonde from the bar. What was her name again?

“Jennifer Jareau, I’m the press liaison for the team. You can call me JJ.”

She sat with you while Spencer worked with the others on the case. You wanted to be updated whenever progress was made, but she told you that wasn’t totally possible. Regardless of how against the rules it was, she still gave you the profile. The unsub likely worked with children and knew them and faculty well enough to enter the building and take the kids without being noticed. They may be a parent going through a loss, as no evidence of sexual assault or any physical violence was found on the only body save for light ligature marks on the wrists. Due to the relatively nonviolent nature of the crime, the unsub could be a woman. They likely live alone since they are keeping several young boys in their home. Although this likely wasn’t the work of a pedophile, a trafficking ring could not be ruled out yet.

You suddenly understood why the victims’ families aren’t supposed to know the profile. You thought it would make you feel better, but it only made you feel worse. JJ opened up another box of tissues for you, got you water, and offered you snacks, but there was no way you could get anything down. Every sound, every person that passed the window, every buzz of JJ’s phone sent your stomach plummeting down a death drop. You had just calmed yourself down from yet another panic attack when you saw agents strapping on kevlar vests and putting their guns into their holsters.

They knew where the kids were.

              (Spencer’s POV)

I wasn’t allowed to see her before we left. I couldn’t tell her where I was going, I couldn’t tell her that Jamie would be okay, I couldn’t tell her anything. I barely spoke to her since we got back to the station, and that was hours ago. Now I-- we just have to leave her there again.

This was my first time going out on the field in this capacity. I’d never had to step out of that SUV with my gun out, ready to shoot anyone who threatened the lives of my team or any hostages they may have. I’d never had to strap on a kevlar vest and worry about the potential bruises that may be left behind by being hit with bullets. I’d never had to worry about not coming back before.

“Don’t be worried. If your hands shake you won’t get a clear shot,” Gideon reminded me in the car, as if I’d be able to get a clear shot with a steady hand anyway.

The unsub was a woman named Harriet Yanonovich. According to hospital records pulled by Garcia, our new tech analyst, her son had recently passed after a short and sudden battle against leukemia. This came shortly after Harriet had a miscarriage that triggered a chemical imbalance, degrading her mental health, which resulted in the trigger, losing her job at the elementary school that the boys had each been taken from. I would have felt bad for her if she hadn’t taken my friend’s son away from her.

But she did, and now I just have to hope she didn’t hurt him.

We arrived at Harriet’s house fairly quickly. Hotch sent Morgan and me around the back, he and Gideon would take the front. As we rounded the back of the house, we discovered that she had a storm cellar under her deck. The doors were closed with a heavy padlock. Morgan aimed his gun to shoot it off the chain.

“Don’t do that. The bullet would ricochet and hit you in the knee.”

He lowered his weapon, “You got a better idea, pretty boy?”

“Yes, actually.” I quietly crept onto the deck, lifting the welcome mat from in front of the sliding glass door into the absolute wreck of a kitchen. Under the mat was a simple looking key. 

“She’s a school teacher going through a depressive episode, not a criminal mastermind.”

“Alright then, genius,” he rolled his eyes, “Let’s see if it even works.”

I inserted the key into the lock, hearing a click and turning it with little difficulty. The shackle popped open. I gently removed it from the chains, trying my hardest not to make any noise that would alarm anyone in the cellar. Unwrapping the chains from the handles, I turned back to face Morgan.

“I accept your apology.” I attempted to muster my smuggest smile, but it was hard to mask the dread and worry on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, open up.”

He grabbed one handle and I grabbed the other, sliding the metal doors open and revealing a staircase into a shadowy basement.

“You first.” Morgan nudged my shoulder.

“What? No way! Morgan, this is serious!”

“So go! It’s your girl’s kid!”

He was right. Not about Y/N being my girl, because she wasn’t (though the thought did briefly replace the anxiety in my heart with pure light that I hadn’t felt since I was twelve), but I was still doing this for her. This case wasn’t just a job for me. This was for Y/N. For Jamie. Y/N deserves to see her son again, I owe her that much.

Derek would learn about my fear of the dark much later, but from how fast I jumped down those stairs into that cellar, he’d never been able to tell.

Against the farthest wall, there were four young boys all curled up in a corner. From the limited light, I could see they were all covered in varying levels of filth, the cleanest boy baring the face I had seen on Y/N’s phone screen. The boys all looked terrified, the two dirtiest looking thin and weak against the ties that bound them to a water pipe. I called up to Morgan to come down and lowered my gun.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI, I’m here to help you guys, okay?” The boys all nodded. Morgan helped me untie their wrists.

“Do you know where Mrs. Yanonovich went?”

“She said she was going upstairs, and that we have to be good or else we wouldn’t get any supper,” Jamie piped up.

“How long you been down here, kid?” Morgan asked.

Jamie shrugged, “Couple hours.”

“Did she hurt any of you?” The kids all shook their heads no.

Hotch’s voice crackled over the radio, “We have her in custody, any sign of the kids?”

“Yep, we found them in the cellar. All are alive, but we may need a medic on standby at the station for some of them.”

“Are they hurt?”

“No, just malnourished. Definitely dehydrated.”

Morgan and I led the kids out to the surface, the setting sun creating a glare off of the tin cellar doors. We were greeted by Gideon and police rounding the corner to the backyard. The kids ran out the gate towards the police cars, eager to be home soon. 

               (Reader POV)

“Okay, I’ll let them know.” JJ hung up and turned back to you, a relieved smile gracing her face. You stood up, desperate to hear the news she had.

“They found the kids, Jamie’s safe.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at the woman you barely knew, wrapping her in a bear hug as delighted laughs left your lungs. You felt tears of pure relief drip down your cheeks as she squeezed you back, also letting out a deep sigh.

You waited impatiently in the bullpen, anxious to see Jamie unharmed and to give the team your gratitude. When they finally arrived, you saw your son walking hand-in-hand with Spencer and the older agent you believed was named Gideon. Spencer pointed over to you with his free hand and smiled, causing Jamie to drop their hands and sprint into your arms crying “Mommy! Mommy!” You immediately lifted him up and covered his face with kisses. The two of you held onto one another so tight, you were surprised either of you could breathe. Spencer came over to you, smiling with eyes you couldn’t quite recognize. 

“Thank you, Spencer.”

“No need, Y/N. I’m glad I could help. I just wish I could have met Jamie here on better terms!”

You adjusted your hold on Jaime to free one hand, stretching it out for Spencer to take it in his own. You squeezed it gently, smiling into those hazel eyes that had somehow never looked warmer before, despite the deep shadows under them.

“Thank you.”

His pursed lips twitched slightly and you noticed the tears brimming his sunken eyes. The poor boy needed sleep and a lot of it soon. He squeezed your hand back, sending shockwaves up your arms straight to your heart, which hadn’t felt this light since you were seventeen years old.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @rottenearly @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae​ @t0xicllama​ @undeniablyyou​ @staplernpaper​

[elliepassmore]

Only A Monster review

5/5 stars Recommended for people who like: time travel, magic, superpowers, enemies to friends, close families, characters of color, enemy-soulmates, strong female leads I really liked the magic system in this book. There's time travel, but with a catch. You can't just go, you have to take the time from somewhere else first. And that means you can't just go anywhere (or...you can, but Ancient Rome requires a lot of time). I think it's an interesting premise. Plus, all the 'monsters' have additional powers depending on their family line, so they can time travel and [insert power] for each of the families. There's a whole additional world based around these time traveling monsters, with all the secrecy and perks you might imagine. Just got back from Ming Dynasty China and need to sell a vase? There are places for that. Want to go to Victorian England and need the right clothes? That store down the street can hook you up. I loved this secret aspect to the world. There were all sorts of things that are offered in monster-only places, from the things listed above to regular bars and hotels. I would've loved to see more of these secret places, but the characters were in a bit of a time crunch (lol) and couldn't stay long. The whole 'monster' thing was interesting too. The monsters time travel using time taken from other people. As in, that person will now die X many days/months/years sooner than they were supposed to. All the monsters are used to this and seem to be pretty okay with it. Joan, raised human, is very much not okay with it. And neither is monster-slaying Nick. Len doesn't make excuses for the monsters' behavior, and both Joan and Nick make plenty of arguments against it, but for the most part readers are left to make up their own decisions about it. Joan is naïve about things at the start of the book, naturally, since she's new to this world. She loves her family dearly, but really struggles to accept the things they've done in the name of time traveling. In the end she gets dragged into it anyway. The 'character is new to the world' trope is a good and commonly used way to introduce readers to a world without worrying too much about exposition, and I liked the way Len went about it, since Joan isn't totally new to the world of monsters. She knows her family calls themselves that, knows they can do some magic. She just doesn't understand the whole picture, and once she does she's forced to reckon with her ideas of good/bad and her perceptions of her family. For all the grief she's going through, Joan does handle things pretty well. There are fits and starts, but she's a strong character and is able to pull through. Her desire to help not just her family, but all the people who are in danger is one of her strongest points, and it both endangers her and endears her to other characters. I actually liked Aaron pretty much from the beginning. He's combative with the other Hunts, and doesn't really argue too much with his family (particularly his dad), but he doesn't actually seem to be all that bad of a guy, which I think was Len's intention. He's prickly in a way you can get through, and for all his grumbling, he never actually puts Joan or the others he's with in harm's way. I hope we get to see more of him in future books. I liked the other Hunts too, though we don't get to see a ton of them considering what happens in the book. Joan's grandmother is caring and gentle, but also fiercely protective of her family. Ruby was also enjoyable to read, and her more out-there personality balances well with Joan's quieter one. Like the grandmother, Ruby is fiercely loyal and more than willing to go to bat for the people she cares about, something that's exceedingly important once the monster-hunters come into the picture. Nick, the monster-hunter and Joan's crush, is...interesting. I liked him at first, before we realize he's a monster-hunter, and then I disliked him. A lot. I get Joan's caught feelings for him and everything, and there's something to be said for lovers on opposite sides, but Nick wasn't doing it for me. I wasn't convinced that he'd really thought about what he was doing, he just seemed to be blindly believing and doing things toward his end goal without considering whether there were other options. Perhaps that was the point, though. Perhaps we aren't supposed to like Nick as much as Joan does. Beyond the plot with the monster-hunter business, I liked the secondary plot with the King and the people who control the rules/governing body for time travel. Beyond the Hunts and Aaron's family (Olivers), we did get to see some of the other families, which in turn gave broader access to the King/government/whatever's web of secrets. I'm excited to see where this thread will go in the next book(s)!

[kitsoa]

So, about your Theory ...

So, we talked on Reddit a while ago, Kitsoa, and I have some more thoughts about your theory. It’s more rambling and longer than what I previously intended – my apologies for this.

Kitsoa- Hello again! I’ll reply in brief through quotes though I’m not interested in doing a solid defense of my theory. Mostly it’s a lot of creative stretching using the crumbs of the narrative and I’m not feeling particularly impassioned to bring out the counter citations nor do I think it necessary.

Also: I have written and re-iterated upon this meta theory of mine multiple times so if I am not referencing the correct Original Post in question that’s probably because I never bothered to do a big manifesto and I will take the fall for that confusion.

It’s certainly very interesting but parts of it seem to not only be unsupported but outright contradicted by the games. For instance, take your surmise that Xehanort’s villainy is motivated by his knowledge of the KH world as fictional and his self-knowledge that he has to play the role of the villain to create a conflict and thus sustain the universe. His actual speech in Re:Mind after Dark Road’s world tour points to something else:

“All around the world people live seemingly peaceful lives. They believe themselves to be moral and virtuous, but it’s all an act. Darkness lurks in the pit of everyone’s heart. Their light is a total farce. Those who are weak, and who desire greater power, simply strip the strong of their power, and convince themselves they’ve earned it. That’s how people become tainted by darkness. They believe what they want them to believe, using hollow reasons as justification. They repeat this cycle, and their darkness grows. No, its better they be ruled by darkness. People carry delusions of having power, but it’s a lie. They are but sheep pretending to be wolves. Though I can admit, I can understand why.”

This edgy little diatribe isn’t about the nature of the universe or Xehanort’s own origin … it’s about his view of human (or talking animal, w/e) nature. It’s a similar theme to his final speech in KH3, and ends not with him concluding that he needs to play the role of a villain to create conflict ,,, but that to prevent the KH universe collapsing into chaos, he needs to become its absolute godlike ruler. Which is what sets up the conflict, yes, but his goal isn’t explicitly to create conflict to keep the universe going.

Re: Xehanorts motive aligning with a meta-awareness on his ‘role’ as a villain. This is a theme I was definitely playing with. Xehanort is clearly symbolic of the corrupting pursuit of knowledge and we have a god-like encounter spark stranger behavior yet. It’s a fascinating trope yes? Corrupted by the Truth. Saving the world by sacrificing the world. That was my angle. The World Tour from Re:mind had him summarizing his villainous disdain and I’ll agree that it gives him no direction towards a ‘role’. But I also take note of the fact that this enlightenment comes directly from the actions of the chessmaster MoM who could feasibly manipulate Xehanort towards a conflict-sparking war. If Xehanort isn’t directly and consciously responsible for fulfilling the metacontextual requirements for a ‘story’ then MoM is. And as I’ve stated it probably comes from a more experimental god-mode type motive.

And again, your argument that time doesn’t really exist in the Disney worlds until Sora arrives and this is related to them literally being stories that he’s diving into. I don’t know where you get this from, at all. We go into Disney worlds and experience plots unrelated to the films (KH1 Olympus, Halloween Town); we go into Disney worlds in medias res (too many to count); we go into Disney worlds before the movie’s events take place (BBS Deep Space, Neverland); we even go into Disney worlds in-between or after the movies’ events (KH3 Toy Box, San Fransokyo). Which rather gets in the way of a simplistic “Sora arrives in the Disney world, time starts flowing forward and the movie starts” look at things. You’d previously characterized this as “every world has its unique story” which IMO would be a more reasonable way to look at things rather than the stronger “the worlds literally are the stories and nothing else”.

I’ll defend this a little. The entire concept of the Worlds as Stories demands only that we recognize a higher reality. A reader/audience/ creator relationship with the happenings. When I say ‘time doesn’t exist’ I’m saying it doesn’t matter. The only thing that does matter is the time spent there by Sora (or his subsidiaries). Time is going to move between visits but not at a pace that runs independently of Sora (and co). And all of the events within those worlds are unique to the source material-- on the virtue of having Sora. But when I say the worlds are the stories, I mean it... metaphysically. The relationship between the greater kh multi-verse (and no greater) and these literal planet world island things is that of stories given form. Most all of my KH musings come from the very simple concept that formless metaphysical concepts like love, bonds, imagination, memories etc are literal, tangible things. Tangible. In this, Worlds are not so much another universe equal to other universes. They are a story, fictional and potentially subservient to a greater reality. It’s only from that understanding that I add the extra layer upon KH (and Quadratum by later extension) itself. 

The exact logic behind this reasoning is cyclic. KH is a fictional story to the literal higher reality (us) and seeing how there's a parallel within the narrative, I just applied that logic within the universe and used my understanding of the ‘literal metaphysics’ theme going on with other lore concepts.

Power of Waking ejecting Sora into “real reality”: This analysis is based on the idea that Sora is “waking himself up” out of dream states until he “wakes up” out of KH reality into “real reality”. But YMX tells him (and implicitly us, via the conventions of this kind of villainous exposition) that Sora is repeating the same error he made in 3D and sending himself into the abyss at the bottom of the Realm of Darkness, not doing the opposite thing and “waking himself up” out of KH reality.

I’ll just punt Power of Waking stuff. There is a lot of stuff with the power but I take most of the speculation from the name and the results. There’s a big interweave of darkness that can support or deny my thoughts within the next sentence and I’m electing now to wait and see. Sora abuses the power of waking-- ends up in another reality. Waking--> realities--> dreams--> sleep. Run with the word association. I like to think the ambiguity with sleep and the darkness of abyss has more to say about the nature of reality as a whole ergo: “everything is a dream” concepts that are hard to swallow. What is waking up, if you find yourself deeper in sleep? Nonesense stuff like that.

MoM as Creator of the KH universe/Quadratum as the “higher reality”: Not only is he presented as a clear villain figure; given that the rest of the Foretellers are based on the Seven Deadly Sins, MoM as their leader would clearly represent the sin of pride. We also have him saying in Back Cover that he “might” disappear from the KH world, suggesting that it was beyond his control; and Luxu’s report suggests that the KH3 Keyblade War was engineered to open a means for him to return to the KH universe, presumably via Sora going to where he is in Quadratum/”unreality”.

I believe strongly in this still. MoM can be a villainous figure and at the mercy of universal laws while still being the Creator and denizen of a higher plane. I try not to dig into scenarios too much but follow me here: Creator of the world, literally self-inserts himself into a world of his own creation. He’s a verified Mad Scientist who of course likes to experiment and test his creations and he does so directly, physically, to them. There, he put them on auto-pilot and is watching Characterization carry on. I am not claiming that he is breaking the rules of his own universe and traveling in and out with ease. Nor am I saying if he is exercising any sort of Creator-granted power over their will. He’s there, he’s interacting with them, and he’s watching them. I find it to be an intentional obstaining of power. Self imposed limitations OR an understood sacrifice for this meddling (think, giving up ‘divine’ form to live amongst his ‘mortal’ creations in divine parallel. he is at the will of his universe but not out of control.)

When he says he ‘might’ disappear not only is he being vague on purpose to terrorize his high-strung apprentices but he’s made no indication that it’s something against his intention. And the actions taken by Luxu in formulating his return mean nothing to his plan or his ability or his potential Creator status. I can’t stress how Long Game I perceive MoM’s actions to be. All in the effort to observe, toy, and curate the perfect... something. And since I am talking about the literal nature of stories, I mean the ‘perfect’ story.

Also, we may note that if it was truly a “higher reality”, Quadratum wouldn’t be noted as the fictional Verum Rex video game in KH3 – there’d be no explicit sign at all of its existence, as it would be the higher reality generating the lower one. Which suggests that what may actually be the case, if the series is going meta, is that KH-verse and Quadratum view each other as fictional – in which case MoM would be somebody falsely claiming or believing to be the Creator, which makes sense in relation to the sin he represents.

Not that I’m saying KH-verse isn’t generated by a higher reality/being; but I don’t feel that the higher reality is Quadratum or that the higher being is MoM. There was a fairly interesting post on Reddit comparing KH to Plato’s world of the forms; in which case Kingdom Hearts would be the higher reality from which both regular KH-verse and Quadratum are generated. Or “unreality” really is a “lower reality” than the regular KH-verse, which TBF seems a bit less likely than “’reg. KH-verse’ and ‘unreality’ view each other as mutually fictional but are actually ontologically equal”.

I think my theory posts predate most of the Quadratum reveal so the details of the reveal haven’t been accounted for in my words but I did call it when breaking down Remind’s Yozora scenario. That said yes, I think there is a higher reality and I feel like you mentioned it outright. I see KH and Quadratum as equal fictional realities, segregated but connected through creator. Some of my earlier meta posts before re:mind saw Quadratum as the “higher reality” (or like “host reality”) until the presence of an author between them became apparent enough. We can potentially consider MoM=the author as a separate subject in this respect as it’s not entirely dependant on that reveal. Ultimately, my point in this caveat of the theory is that the relationship between KH and Quadratum strikes an intentionally meta-referential parallel to the actual creator Nomura. That’s an angle that is very audacious and I have full understanding in the denial but it’s my supporting evidence to a higher power within the re:mind secret episode alone.  As for the ‘unreality’ I literally think that is just a way for them to say ‘fictional’ without saying the word, not necessarily an indication of ‘rank’ (for lack of a better word). I use a little reverse logic on the reveal in Melody of Memory when I claim they are ‘equal fictional realities’. No one thinks to assume that they themselves are also “fake” so it;s not a stretch to believe that the reverse assumption could be true. This putting KH and Quadratum on the same level and almost guaranteeing a connection through a mutual creator. 

Now, you also talk about the Whispers in FF7R, but in that they’re in-universe contextualised as “guardians of destiny”, essentially manifestations of the Will of the Planet. Which just goes to show what I talked about earlier – the meta-level of a story can’t exist without a surface-level narrative. We know that the Whispers out-of-universe represent fan anger at changes to the plotline; but they’re presented as something in-universe, which can be defeated by in-universe forces (another reason I doubt it as it seems to leave no room for our heroes’ victory in the confrontation with MoM that’s being teased as the next saga).

I bring up the Whispers to note a synonymous use of the words ‘destiny’ and ‘fate’ to ‘story and ‘narrative’ Not explicitly of course, that would break the 4th wall, but its a subtext that's easier seen in a ‘remake’ because of direct references and deviations being drawn. I think the same synonymous use can be applied when brought up in KH because of their common creative entity.

Finally: How do you see this “metapocalypse” of yours playing out as an actual KH game? We know the conventions well enough by now – a trip through Disney worlds fighting monsters and villains in flashy shonen-style combat, being stalked and looked over ominously from afar by a council of villains with mysterious schemes. Then an invasion of the villains’ lair by the heroes with a final serving of flashy, SFX-heavy boss battles, a number of dramatic plot twists and arc resolutions, and an ending with the villains’ schemes having been at least forestalled. Then we get the ending credits; with an epilogue, a superboss and a secret ending all hinting at more to come.

Well I’m glad you asked! Honestly, I’m basically writing a fanfiction about it. I’m writing the story in part to engage some of these theories/speculations into a serviceable game narrative. So I’ll be vague:

Thematically: This breaking the 4th wall has the power to thematically drive home concepts of free will, defining your personhood and defying expectations. Furthermore, you have questions like... what makes something real? What makes it matter and what’s important? With growing up and the sanctity of youth being a constant struggle as the series and the characters age, the reverence in imagination and growing connections to things that aren’t stereotypically ‘real’ is a strong concept. If I were to break down the big message simply: As long as it’s real in your heart it doesn’t matter.

Overall, the reveal doesn’t really have to impact the basic formula. You can have Disney World Hopping and Villainous characters scheming and manipulating a greater force. I personally think the world-hopping parallel can become more direct with the context of it being movies/stories adding a different understanding of the process of visiting those worlds and meeting those characters. The episodes can be more about fate and predestination and can speak directly to the importance of the connections to those worlds. And the dramatic stakes are the literal threads of reality and godhood! 

If I am to be more detailed and imaginative (without substantial evidence)  I might say... MoM’s experiments in manipulating his own created world(s) are aiming to shape Sora (or 2nd favorite son Yozora) into some kind of perfect conduit for the marraige of reality and fiction and the success or failure of that process might weaponize his ability to connect with other hearts... real and not, all to the greater ascention of one chessmaster. 

(That’s not even mentioning how I have a personal reason to dislike it as it reminds me of an old theory that the KH plot was actually SRK imagining it all up in their childhood games or to put a darker twist on that idea, Sora dreaming it all up in a coma or while dying. I hated reading those ideas when I was younger and still do.)

I’m gonna sympathize hard with this. I hate ‘it was all just a dream’ theories. They are cheap and they trivialize the journey. That is not what this theory is saying. There is a higher reality in this concept and that is used as a proxy for our relationship with the series. The imagery of dreams is only a small facet of the reality/unreality theme so there is no ‘waking up’ or ‘end of story, goodbye’ attitude. The commentary is broader and it can potentially speak on the power of dreams and reality. The ‘realness’ of fake things. I’m sort of calling out KH for what it is: an imaginative story that expands upon what it means to truly experience stories.  Anyway, I rambled more than I thought. I haven’t written anything about KH in months so this was a little caffine shot for me. I’m not gonna be too stuck in the details and nor do I care exactly. I’m a story teller first and I just so happened to have predicted some things not so much because of the hints being dropped but because I understand some of the thematic intent behind the lore and certain narrative beats. The rest is just me having fun and finding the best reading. Sometimes I’m right. 

[unloved-cadillac]

Firstly to start off with, ummm a white kurtan, yes please, I know this bitch looks good whatever hes wearing, so it dont matter, BUT THE BLACK TANK TOP OOFFFF YOU BETTER STOP, ITS NOT GOOD FOR MY HEALTH. But moving on, I've finished reading the whole thing now, and I'm writing this in notes, so if you're getting thing like 40 minutes later it's because I'm drafting my ask. Basically I'm just gonna skim read it again and just give you my thoughts and any feedback, if that's okay with you, you can ignore this if you want to, I completely understand. I dont mind at all 😊😊

Ok to start off with, the exposition was really good, you've set the tone and introduced the Ackerman family really beautifully. When I read it initially the fact that Levi did not want a family or to get married was quite emphasised upon to me, and I'm really looking forward for the inevitable development and how his view changes as the chapters go on. I also love how you introduced Farlan and Isabel, and lightly touched upon how they met, you didnt go into too much detail and I really like that, it kept me focused on the actual story itself, which is about Levi and not Farlan. And Farlan wanting tto marry her 😢😢. I think it's really really sweet and I cant wait to see more of them. I love it so much.

The transition from setting the scene to their father being poisoned was not something I was expecting and made me go oh shit he dead. Part of me felt like it was moving too quick, but the other part of me loved the shock factor of it since it happened so suddenly. I didnt think of it as too big of an issue though, it was still enjoyable to read.

The whole encounter with the peasant guy made me wonder just how many more people there are like him, that dislike the Ackermans and would try to kill them. And whether y/n would be one of them. Also I got a bit confused as to who was speaking whether it was Farlan or Levi, but I read the sentence again and it was fine, I understood, so maybe I was just being a dumb bitch.

Oooh a quick point Levi sympathising with the criminal was really touching and made me feel warm and gooey. It shows that hes not a dick and does actually care about his people. But it also shows he has clear boundaries and is really firm. He will make a great leader in the future.

YESSS BODYGUARD ERWINNN!!!!! I WAS LITERALLY TELLING MY FRIEND THE OTHER DAY, ERWIN AND LEVI BODYGUARD AU IS THE BESTT. YES SWEETIE UGH ITS FANTASTIC. IVE SAID THIS BEFORE BUT IM SAYING IT AGAIN I LOVE IT.

Carrying on, I love the whole Erwin/Levi/Farlan interaction, of course Erwin knows everything, why wouldnt he, hes a boss ass bitch. Also again, reaffirming that Levi does not want a wife, nOicE. Really builds up his future development.

The difference in Levi's and Farlan's reaction is comical. Ones there waving and smiling and the other ones there like fuck off leave me alone. ALSO WHOEVER SAID THEY'LL GIVE UP THEIR VIRGINTY SAME GURLL SAMEEE, I WOULD TOO YOURE NOT ALONE. AND YES FARLAN IT IS FUNNY, IT MADE ME LAUGH.

Awww the people are so nice, offering things for free, that's how you know you're loved by your people, I rate it, rate Levi sm.

Okay my guy, imma need you stop for a second and relax. Taking your top of??? And your scarf??? Okay big man, I see you, I see you, looking fine af. Ahhh I love imagining this in my brain, so stimulating.

Anyways, Y/N'S HERE NOWWW YES BITCHHH IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE, TURN IT UPPPP.

Nanaba being my sister is absolutely exquisite *chefs kiss*. I really thought you'd maybe put Petra, and then Petra would like Levi as well, but no its Nanaba and I fucking love her so so much. Also not really relevant, but I dont have any older sisters, but I do have older cousin sisters and I call my favourite one didi mooni (I think that's how you spell it, or muni idk) and yeah it just reminded me of her. I haven't seen her in so so long because of the pandemic and I miss her :(

Ah. So. Y/N does hate the royals. I wanna know why?? Does she think they're overrated?? A bad experience maybe?? Everyone else seems to love them. I'll just have to wait and see I guess.

ALSO PLEASE TELL ME THE LITTLE KID WAS MIKASA!!! IM HOPING SO SO MUCH ITS MIKASA, IT PROBABLY ISNT BECAUSE SHES AN ACKERMAN HERSELF BUT I CAN STILL HOPE!!! SHES SO CUTEEE AND ADORABLE AWWWW WEVIIII 🥺🥺🥺

THEY SELL TEAAA AHHH ITS A LOVE STORY BOUND TO HAPPEN. AND HE HASNT TRIED THEM YETT!!!! YES OMGGG TEA DATES, THEY CAN BOTH SIT DOW AND SHE CAN INTRODUCE HIM TO NEW SHITT AHHHH MY HEARTTTT 🥰🥰🥰IM GETTING WAYYYY AHEAD OF MYSELF.I need to calm down.

The whole meeting with Levi and Y/N was so adorable. It felt really short and I want more, but its okayyy, hopefully there are more chapters. Them locking eyes, him following her to get the leaves, HIM HELPING HER PICK UP THE BLOODY LEAVES, THE HAIR PART REMINDS ME OF IN BOLLYWOOD MOVIES WHEN THE PROTAGS HAIR GETS STUCK IN THE GUYS WATCH OR THEIR DUPATTA OR SOMETHING. OMGG Y/N IS ONE LUCKY BITCH.

Also since you havent specified the race of y/n, just wanted to ask is she Indian?? Or it it unspecified?? You wrote that she blushed bright red and many dark skinned readers wont be able relate. So yeah I'm not too sure whether that was intentional or not, I'm sorry if I'm mistaken though. I mean no harm at all.

Farlan's relationship with Levi is just beautiful, like I know I'm using the word beautiful a lot, but their broship is immaculate. Something else that I love.

Both Levi and Y/N not wanting to get married is hilarious. I really like how you've characterised her, shes really fierce, independent and seems really kind and caring as well. I really like this Y/N, very family oriented.

If I was her dad I would've taken the money. 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️ Not complaining about it because my dad would've done the exact same thing, but if I was him I wouldve taken it. Sis is broke, sis needs all the money she can get.

Both parties questioning Levi and Y/N is hilarious, fucking Erwin, I love him so much I stg. I'd sacrifice my life for him. Hes best boy 😇😇

I feel like this is really really long already so I'll quickly sum everything up, if you got this far you deserve a clap on the back and a medal, because I've basically just waffled. I really really enjoyed this chapter, it was very good in terms of introductions and getting to know the characters, I loved the initial meeting between levi and y/n and it did make my heart flutter quite a bit so that's that. I dont have any complaints really, just small minor things I've mentioned before and that's it. I really look forward to the coming chapters!!! Thank you so so much for writing it. Please make sure you're taking regular breaks and keeping hydrated and healthy. Thanks sweetie xxx 🥰🥰🥰

I’ve read this WHOLE thing..twice. I can’t stop smiling omf you’re so sweet! But, yeah minor shit I didn’t mention and I left it up to reader. Like the skin tone, sheesh. I don’t want any problems with that, I just said red blush to signify embarrassment. Reader is reader no matter what.

Aren’t we all broke af? But I liked the idea of the father being humble about it. Lol. Idk.

I don’t want to get into too much detail because that will obviously ruin the story but I love your ideas. Tea dates?! How cute! Erwin is the best, of course. He knows ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and he’s the kind of person who would follow his princes no matter what. Till the end, you know?

As I said, highly inspired by Bollywood movies lol.

You took your time and wrote all of this and I’m so fucking happy that you did. I can’t wait for all of you to see the upcoming chapters. I hope that you’re staying happy and hydrated as well. Also, happy Shivratri! (If you celebrate for it) and to everyone else celebrating.

-Caddy.

[queen--kenobi]

oh oh oh that ask meme about your fiction- can you talk a bit about Missed Connection? 1, 11, 4, 5 & 9 - this may be a lot but i can't help it, reading that story really left me in awe at your gift

Fanfic Questions

dlkghkdgkd Before I start, I want you to know that I made an unholy screeching sound when I saw this because that’s my favorite one-shot I’ve written and I am so glad to talk about it!!!!!

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

I mean, I’ve been writing Triple Trouble for awhile now, and I wanted to write something with Danny in the Entity’s realm since everything I’d done at that point had been in the regular world. I also was thinking about how I wanted to end Triple Trouble at that time, and the idea of having a fic where the reader knew Danny before he went into the Fog and was pulled into it because of their connection with him was just too good.

Also, like. You can do fics where the reader gets to know a character within the Entity’s realm, but I feel like those would require so much exposition and building if you’re not going the non-con route. You feel?

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I feel like I did a really good job of showing a previous relationship before the Fog without writing it? Also, it let me explore an entirely different side of Danny. We know he’s a murderer and kills for fun, and I’ve been kind of exploring the idea of him being insanely attracted to someone but he’s also like.... as in love as he can be with this person, so he can’t kill them? And it was fun to write him where he can have his cake and eat it too since death it’s permanent!

Basically, I really like I got to explore a really sadistic side of Danny

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

fjsoghfh I have so many! I think it’s a tie between:

“Oh, you know. Wrote a letter to Santa Clause telling him I’d been really good this year.” Even though you can’t see his face through the mask, you can hear the feral grin. “What do you think?”

and 

“It hurts, I know, but I need you to take just a little bit more. Can you do that? For me?” He chuckles darkly at the end of that. “God. Your insides are prettier than I thought they’d be.”

Like I love the sarcastic demeaning Danny in the first one? But there’s something about that last one that’s just. Oof. Like in any other context that first part would be fucking hot, so that last part feels like a slap in the face, and I love it.

5: What part was hardest to write?

Honestly, the first chase sequence? Because it’s boring if it’s just a really wordy extended chase sequence, but like. If you’re playing survivor you always have a chase sequence. So I couldn’t leave that out.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Yes! I mean, they all had the Mori part because that’s literally the build-up/crucial part? The whole fic wouldn’t be the same without the Mori. But I had several different endings.

The first one was basically the same, but it was going to get more sexual with the Mori jsghfdghjdj Like it was going to be full on Criminal Minds “he uses a knife because of sexual hang-ups” type deal.

The second one was more of a slightly different fic? The idea would be the same, but it’d be more like the Entity was pissed at the reader and stuck them in a trial with Danny alone. 

The third one is the one that almost happened! I think you can still see parts of it in the fic itself? It was going to be the reader comes back to the campfire and is in a shit ton of pain. Some of the survivors get what happened in there, namely Laurie and Quentin, and go to the reader and try to be like “we know how you feel. it’s fucking awful because you can’t escape your tormentor at all”. I might have had Bill spill the beans about what happened in the past, but I wasn’t sold.  But like the other survivors are going to realize that hey, the reader is still bleeding even though their outside of a trial??? So they look at the reader’s back, and just down their spine you can see this fucking nasty ass wound/scar from the Mori. Meaning that Entity basically gave Danny permission to mark the reader as his even outside of the trials

Thank you so much you have no idea how much this means to me since I’ve been wanting to scream about this fic!!!!!!!! I’ve actually been tempted to do a second part but it’d be more along the lines of another killer trying to Mori the reader, and Danny just throws a fucking FIT when he finds out

[hollyand-writes]

5 Questions (fic meme)

I was tagged all the way back in December 2019 by the lovely @kagetsukai – thanks so much! ❤️  Sorry that it’s taken me, um, 7 months to get around to doing this! I think at the time I was feeling a bit too low about my writing (and, frankly, fandom) back then to be able to answer any writing memes, but I’m back on my bullshit now so LET’S DO THIS! 💪🏾 

I tag whoever wants to do this! 😃 

Let’s talk about “A Chance Engagement”, my Regency AU Carver/Merrill multi-chaptered longfic! 

1) What was the idea that started the story?

Two things: The first thing was this post that made me wonder what Carver would look like marching around in tight Regency breeches, and that got me thinking of all kinds of scenarios where he’d be marching around in them (also please have my bad Photoshop art. Thanks @fragilespark for enabling me, haha!).

The second thing was that not long after, @lucyrne was one of the randomly-selected prizewinners for the @carvermerrill blog giveaway when it reached 250 followers (random fun fact: it now has 366 followers; not bad for a rare-pairing!) and she gave me the following prompt: 

...I think what I'd really love is a prompt that involves them dressing up for some reason. Like going to a ball and actually getting to enjoy it instead of thwarting assassinations or fighting dragons ... 

After I asked her if a Regency AU would be OK with her, she replied: 

I was thinking something canonverse, but if an AU inspired you go for it. 

And, um, three years later, here we are. (I’m so sorry your blog giveaway prize has taken this long, Lucyrne!) 

2) Did you make an outline? Did you stick to it?

Kind of? I mean, I’m following the plot of Pride & Prejudice (the novel version, and maybe sort of the 1995 BBC adaptation) for the most part, especially with the main pairing (Carver/Merrill) and one of the other side-pairings (the Wickham/Lydia equivalent), but there is another subplot going on with F!Hawke/Isabela (i.e. Marian Hawke) and their secret romance which is very loosely based on their Dragon Age 2 romance arc, although it won’t exactly follow that arc. 

I tend to make a very loose and subject-to-change outline for my longfic after pantsing a few paragraphs/pages to get some thoughts down and some scenes out of my head, but then I start to string things together by coming up with some sort of plot to include the scenes in, and that’s what I’ve done here. I’ve got a list of bullet points of plot points I need to cover overall, and then I drill down deeper into each chapter and what they will cover every batch of several chapters. I haven’t always stuck to those more detailed chapter-by-chapter outlines, but I have stuck to the overall plot outline. 

3) What’s the favourite part of your story?

A certain rejected proposal that happened in Chapter 41. I was laughing about that for at least a year before I was finally able to release the chapter – it was so hard sitting on that plot twist for so long!

4) Who is your favourite character and why?

Probably the Arishok. His sole purpose in the fic is to just turn up and ruin everything, LOL. I’ve also really enjoyed writing the De Launcets, as well – writing the bitchy sisters Babette and Fifi and their brother Emile with his shit chat-up lines has been great, they’re just my favourite disaster family and writing their meanness has been fun. 

5) Did anything happen that surprised you as you were writing? 

I was actually surprised that the de Launcet sisters ended up having as big a role as they did, and that there was so little of Emile. I was also surprised at just how long it would take me to get from one plot point to another, that getting from plot point A to plot point B in my rough outline would take several chapters and a bunch of exposition and worldbuilding in order to build and complete the path there. 

I am also surprised that I’m still going. I thought this would be done in like 15 chapters and 20,000 words?!? AHAHAHAHAHA I WAS SO WRONG but I’m also surprised that I’ve got a fic past the 60,000-word mark and that I haven’t flagged and that I’m still interested in writing and finishing it, even if I am slow! 

The other reason I’m surprised I’m still going is actually because trying to write in a Regency style of English is really, really, really hard for me, and I don’t always enjoy doing it, even though (paradoxically) I really enjoy writing this fic???? despite my feelings about the style I write it in??? I can’t really explain it. It kind of feels like I was meant to write this fic, somehow, and I think so far it’s the most “me” out of all multi-chaptered fics I’ve publicly released to AO3. 

The BIGGEST surprise I got, however, was that this longfic would be as loved as it was/is, and that I’d have so many lovely, awesome, wonderful people reaching out to tell me how much they love my fic and look forward to each update ❤️  Back when I started, I only had like 3 readers, and out of those, only Lucyrne was a regular commenter of mine – I remembered being disappointed at first, but then I thought “eh, this is the story I want to write, and I love diving into this world and this AU so I’m going to finish it even if Lucyrne ends up being my only reader”. So I stopped worrying about my lack of audience and just... carried on writing it, just for the sheer fun of writing it. 

I was genuinely not prepared at all for so many readers to discover my longfic somewhere around Chapters 9 to 15, and to come along for the ride with me. But I appreciate it and love you all. Thank you all so, so much. 😘❤️

[lthmath]

Recently we have been reorganizing our LThMath Book Club. The whole idea behind it is to read and discuss books with other people. We are happy that the Goodreads Club grew to 278 people. We have created a Facebook Group with the same idea as the Goodreads one. After the first months we have reached 377 members in the group and we have some really great book recommendations. Hope you all enjoy the idea.

Due to this change, we cannot do just a Goodreads poll for the bi-monthly book. Therefor, we decided to do a survey (created using Google forms). In this way more people can vote for the book. If you want to vote, you need to do it HERE.

“A Beautiful Mind” by Sylvia Nasar*

Economist and journalist Sylvia Nasar has written a biography of Nash that looks at all sides of his life. She gives an intelligent, understandable exposition of his mathematical ideas and a picture of schizophrenia that is evocative but decidedly unromantic. Her story of the machinations behind Nash’s Nobel is fascinating and one of very few such accounts available in print.

We are very interested in this book due to the movie “A Beautiful Mind”*. It is an incredible, emotional and interesting movie about the life of John Nash. If this book was chosen, we believe it would be a great idea to watch the movie after we read the book. What do you think?

“Things to Make and Do in the Fourth Dimension: A Mathematician’s Journey Through Narcissistic Numbers, Optimal Dating Algorithms, at Least Two Kinds of Infinity, and More” by Matt Parker*

In the absorbing and exhilarating Things to Make and Do in the Fourth Dimension, Parker sets out to convince his readers to revisit the very math that put them off the subject as fourteen-year-olds. Starting with the foundations of math familiar from school (numbers, geometry, and algebra), he takes us on a grand tour, from four dimensional shapes, knot theory, the mysteries of prime numbers, optimization algorithms, and the math behind barcodes and iPhone screens to the different kinds of infinity―and slightly beyond. Both playful and sophisticated, Things to Make and Do in the Fourth Dimension is filled with captivating games and puzzles, a buffet of optional hands-on activities that entice us to take pleasure in mathematics at all levels. Parker invites us to relearn much of what baffled us in school and, this time, to be utterly enthralled by it.

“Lost in Math: How Beauty Leards Physics Astray” by Sabine Hossenfelder*

Whether pondering black holes or predicting discoveries at CERN, physicists believe the best theories are beautiful, natural, and elegant, and this standard separates popular theories from disposable ones. This is why, Sabine Hossenfelder argues, we have not seen a major breakthrough in the foundations of physics for more than four decades. The belief in beauty has become so dogmatic that it now conflicts with scientific objectivity: observation has been unable to confirm mindboggling theories, like supersymmetry or grand unification, invented by physicists based on aesthetic criteria. Worse, these “too good to not be true” theories are actually untestable and they have left the field in a cul-de-sac. To escape, physicists must rethink their methods. Only by embracing reality as it is can science discover the truth.

Looking at the general description, this sounds more like a book about physics but we are still interested to see how the author deals with the bondary between mathematics and physics. Also, this book was released in 2018.

“The Indisputable Existence of Santa Claus: The Mathematics of Christmas” by Hannah Fry and Thomas Oléron Evans*

How do you apply game theory to select who should be on your Christmas shopping list? Can you predict Her Majesty’s Christmas Message? Will calculations show Santa is getting steadily thinner – shimmying up and down chimneys for a whole night – or fatter – as he tucks into a mince pie and a glass of sherry in billions of houses across the world?

Full of diagrams, sketches and graphs, beautiful equations, Markov chains and matrices, Proof That Santa Exists brightens up the bleak midwinter with stockingfuls of mathematiccal marvels. And proves once and for all that maths isn’t just for old men with white hair and beards who associate with elves.

“The Music of the Primes: Why an unsolved problem in mathematics matters” by Marcus du Sautoy*

Prime numbers are the very atoms of arithmetic. They also embody one of the most tantalising enigmas in the pursuit of human knowledge. How can one predict when the next prime number will occur? Is there a formula which could generate primes? These apparently simple questions have confounded mathematicians ever since the Ancient Greeks.

In this breathtaking book, mathematician Marcus du Sautoy tells the story of the eccentric and brilliant men who have struggled to solve one of the biggest mysteries in science. It is a story of strange journeys, last-minute escapes from death and the unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Above all, it is a moving and awe-inspiring evocation of the mathematician’s world and the beauties and mysteries it contains.

“A Brief History of Infinity” by Brian Clegg*

Infinity is a concept that fascinates everyone from a seven-year-old child to a maths professor. An exploration of the most mind-boggling feature of maths and physics, this work examines amazing paradoxes and looks at many features of this fascinating concept.

“Gamma: Exploring Euler’s Constant” by Julian Havil*

Among the many constants that appear in mathematics, π, e, and i are the most familiar. Following closely behind is y, or gamma, a constant that arises in many mathematical areas yet maintains a profound sense of mystery.

In a tantalizing blend of history and mathematics, Julian Havil takes the reader on a journey through logarithms and the harmonic series, the two defining elements of gamma, toward the first account of gamma’s place in mathematics.  Sure to be popular with not only students and instructors but all math aficionados, Gamma takes us through countries, centuries, lives, and works, unfolding along the way the stories of some remarkable mathematics from some remarkable mathematicians.

“Proofiness: The Dark Arts of Mathematical Deception” by Charles Seife*

“Proofiness,” as Charles Seife explains in this eye-opening book, is the art of using pure mathematics for impure ends, and he reminds readers that bad mathematics has a dark side. It is used to bring down beloved government officials and to appoint undeserving ones (both Democratic and Republican), to convict the innocent and acquit the guilty, to ruin our economy, and to fix the outcomes of future elections. This penetrating look at the intersection of math and society will appeal to readers of Freakonomics and the books of Malcolm Gladwell.

“Tales of Impossibility: The 2000-year quest to solve the mathematical problems of Antiquity” by David S. Richeson*

Tales of Impossibility recounts the intriguing story of the renowned problems of antiquity, four of the most famous and studied questions in the history of mathematics. First posed by the ancient Greeks, these compass and straightedge problems–squaring the circle, trisecting an angle, doubling the cube, and inscribing regular polygons in a circle–have served as ever-present muses for mathematicians for more than two millennia. David Richeson follows the trail of these problems to show that ultimately their proofs–demonstrating the impossibility of solving them using only a compass and straightedge–depended on and resulted in the growth of mathematics.

We hope this helped you decide what book you would like to read in August – September with us. Hope you liked this post. Have a great day. You can find us on Facebook,  Tumblr, Twitter and Instagram. We will try to post there as often as possible.

Lots of love and don’t forget that maths is everywhere! Enjoy!

*This post contains affiliate links and I will be compensated if you make a purchase after clicking on my links.

December – January Book Choice Recently we have been reorganizing our LThMath Book Club. The whole idea behind it is to read and discuss books with other people.

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

Superior Spider-Man #17-19, 23, 27-32 and Superior Team-Up #5, #7 Thoughts...Sorta

Because of the 2099 event coming up I have ambitions (and lord knows if I will succeed) of re-reading the 2099 centric stories published in the 2010s, chiefly Peter David’s Spider-Man 2099 solo-books. I never actually finished reading that stuff nor did I finish writing posts for each issue/arc but I’m willing to try again.

It’s been so long though and now the stuff has been collected I thought it’d be best to not simply pick up where I left off but both refresh my memory and be more of a completionist about it.

Hence I decided to skim  the Superior issues featuring Miguel O’Hara and to a lesser extent Alchemax with a mind towards the scenes featuring both. This is both to save me time (no pun intended) and because you know...fuck Superior.

As such this is far from comprehensive and I’m likely missing information but for the sake of completion I’m making these posts.

So first of all I’m not going to overly critique the inherent concept of Superior, Otto’s characterization, or anyone else’s characterization (sans 2099 relevant characters); especially as they relate to the Superior concept. It’s shit. I’ve said that endlessly before. If you are chomping at the bit to hear specifics regarding these issues then all I shall say is Slott writes Otto as cartoonish with Saturday Morning style villain dialogue whilst Yost in Team-Up, just like virtually EVERY writer sans Slott to handle the character, did better.

NO ONE hearing Otto talk as Spider-Man should be fooled into thinking he’s the real Spider-Man because he doesn’t sound anything like he did before he changed his outfit, started using more violent methods, employed supervillains as part of his Superior Six, had 4 metal arms come out of his back and had a hold gang of henchmen at his beck and call. But in spite of that at least Yost’s dialogue was more nuanced. Whilst it sounds like something Otto would say it also sounds like the Peter Parker Spider-Man merely skewed. He’s more condescending, egotistical and bluntly insulting than Peter ever was but he also doesn’t sound like a middle aged man from a 1960s comic book.

This brings us to the dialogue in general in fact. As a fan of the MC2 universe and older comics I ENJOY older style dialogue...in MC2 stories or older comics. The MC2 universe was it’s own off to the side sandbox that was deliberately trying to evoke the Silver Age, but it could break from that when appropriate. And older comics were just written by the standards of the time. Slott though his dialogue was written if anything in a more antiquated style than what the MC2 usually went for. Seriously all he’d need is to throw in some old fashioned words and social attitudes and it’d be ripped from the 1960s.

In a mainstream, main universe set title the dialogue style should be reflective of the times, whilst obviously avoiding the bad stuff regarding modern dialogue. One of my frustrations with many modern comics is that characters will speak outloud because modern standards dictate that thought balloons for anyone who isn’t the lead character of the story are bad for some asinine reason. On that front I do give Slott credit as he avoids this. He has no problem giving any character he wants internal thoughts and even still makes the lead, Otto, stand out as he has thought captions not thought balloons like everyone else. It’s just literally the word choices he makes that’s the problem. It’s inorganic even by comic book standards and is overly exposition laden. This is where editorial boxes or the recap pages could help out by getting that exposition out of the way. But instead we need to explain a story from over 20 issues earlier twice across 2 issues or alternatively just take it on faith the reader remembers the stories.

It doesn’t help that he inconsistently will use the third person narrator once in a blue moon.

The dialogue also impacts upon the characterization because frankly Miguel and Tyler Stone are...off...

In fact a lot of the characters besides Otto feel rather bland and samey because they are just actors in the plot that is being told and nothing more. Miguel is distinct for little reason beyond his use of future slang. Now I’ve only read the first trade of Spider-Man 2099 so maybe some of these terms pop up later but if Slott invented ‘bithead’ and ‘jammit’ it’s cause for cringe. The larger issue though is that Miguel’s status quo is set up by Slott but not his you know...personality. Okay in fairness he gets across Miguel has a little bit more edge to him than the regular Spider-Man and is not as prone to the same kind of humour in battle. But the latter is likely less Slott getting the character and more him just writing him pretty generically. The sarcasm, the arrogance, the sardonic aspect of Miguel is totally absent.

This is a problem if you were a 2099 fan showing up to see your fav or if this was intended as set up for a spin-off which it absolutely was. I mean shouldn’t set up for a spin-off character give you an impression of their personality. Shouldn’t you want to follow the character as opposed to the admittedly interesting situation the character is in?

But that’s Slott all over. He’s awful on characters 99% of the time but he’s good on concepts 50% of the time. The initial 2099 arc is a great microcosm of this.

Miguel wants to avert Alchemax’s evil influence in the future but we are merely TOLD that it is evil but see little evidence to corroborate that. He is willing to destroy himself, his grandfather and his family lineage to do that but then he has a change of heart. The set up for that change of heart is briefly presented and we smash cut to after it has already happened, we see none of the internal gears turning to demonstrate his mind changing, not even a quick panel of his eyes narrowing or his brow furrowing.

O the flipside (again no pun intended) though I genuinely adore the idea that Liz Allan and Norman Osborn in effect founded Alchemax and the involvement of Tiberius Stone and the conundrum of Miguel needing to protect him. In fact Tiberius comes off as one of the more interesting characters in this. I liked how he deduced his own relevance to the future and was just a sleazy asshole.

Another thing compromising the introduction of Miguel is his presentation.

The arc is rather bewildering because it introduces functionally an alternate version of the original Spider-Man 2099 but also takes it on faith you already know about Spider-Man 2099 in the first place.

Which frankly wasn’t a reasonable presumption.

Like okay sure people know OF Spider-Man 2099 because if you are a comic book or Spider-Man fan long enough your pick up there was a future version of him sooner or later, it’s just plain osmosis. And he’d been featured in two video games in the then recent past.

But not everyone plays video games, watches Let’s Plays, or would have read comics from 20 years ago, especially considering the 2099 stories haven’t even been collected in trade yet. Hell the last time A version of Spidey 2099 appeared it was in 2009 and was a distinctly different version altogether.

So Miguel’s reintroduction should’ve been handled differently, the first shot of him in action should have been the Stegman splash page not him preparing to leap off into action, we should’ve seen his supervision in action instead of just being told about it, we should’ve had his other abilities demonstrated to us. I mean I  know what they are and how they work for the most part but how would someone who’s a new/unfamiliar fan have a clue?

Perhaps the worst example of this is the fact that Slott’s stories, both in the initial 2099 arc and later, reference Miguel and Peter meeting before. There is no further exposition, there is no editorial caption referring to when this occurred (in the initial arc anyway), you are just supposed to accept this has happened before. That is until Superior #32 but more on that in a moment.

But even for new readers this is bewildering. Newer fans might in their head’s wonder if this is referencing the Edge of Time or the Shattered Dimensions video games, which it definitely isn’t because those are clearly not canon to Peter Parker. Older fans like myself might immediately jump to the Spider-Man Meets Spider-Man 2099 one shot from the mid 1990s. But that’s never explicitly referred to until Superior #32 which was published not just after Superior wrapped up but in fact after Miguel’s solo-book had been launched!

More confusingly  IIRC the one shot factors into the original 2099 series so it shouldn’t apply to this alternate version of Miguel and indeed the marvel.wiki lists the one shot as featuring the original Miguel NOT the one starring in these stories. Much like Spider-Girl #10 Slott decided to canonize something he had no business canonizing.

Anyway one final little criticism I have of these stories in terms of writing is that Miguel helped create Spider Slayers using future technology (why would you fuck up the timeline like that??????) and he was able to deduce Otto wasn’t the true Spider-Man. How the fuck can a guy from the future who met Peter Parker ONCE and very briefly tell Superior Spidey is an imposter but Aunt May, Kaine and Mary Jane can’t?

Because contrivance thy name is Slott.

Let’s briefly discuss Superior Team up and Superior #32.

Miguel’s involvement is essentially meaningless in the former and he’s absent from the latter but credit where credit is due Slott did give us a fun little jaunt through the 2099 future...which is not the setting of Miguel O’Hara’s solo book so you know...that was kind of pointless beyond setting up Spider-Worst (not my joke but it’s appropriate). I have little else to say on the issue beyond that seeing more murdered Spider-Heroes sickens me.

Finally let’s talk art.

These books were drawn by Ryan Stegman (Superior #17-19), Marco Checchetto (Superior Team-Up), Humberto Ramos (Superior #23) and Giuseppe Camuncoli (Superior #27.NOW, #28-31).

Ramos is Ramos which is to say anatomically offensive though seeing him briefly draw Miguel wasn’t too bad. Camuncoli was better but I’ve never liked his style. True he got better but still not great.

Stegman meanwhile I think was good. Now this is 2013 Stegman. His RYV, Venom and Absolute Carnage work runs rings around his work back then and before that. It’s very stylized but it’s still good. In fact the stylized look of it works for the concept behind the series. Characters look darker, edgier, in a way uglier and somewhat caricatured which fits in a series about a villain. His double page spread for Miguel though looks awesome, one of the all time great images of the character.

Checchetto meanwhile was the stand out. His work just look gorgeous to look at but it was still evoking a darker aesthetic it fit the idea of a book about a villain very, very well.

Not much to say about these issues. I am debating if I’m going to make a similar multi-issue post when I skim through the Miguel parts of Spider-Verse since I never posted about them back when it was happening, but we will see.

So I recommend reading these?

No. No I do not. I recommend flipping to the pages of Miguel in costume and looking at the art but that’s it.