#I have so many other things to do but instead I’m refreshing my messages waiting for you to send me something

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[cafeinthemoon]

Ruins - Chapter III

Chapter 3

Wordcount 2,2k

Title Part III

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Pairing Hades X reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warning (s): none

Tagging @darling-imobsessed (if you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just send an ask or a message 😉)

N. A.: So... Hades POV and Hermes being shocked for countless minutes straight lol

– I understand you have all the reasons to be surprised – Hades’ voice echoed inside the room despite his quiet tone – But don’t I have the right to come too?  

The ruler of the Underworld has taken the same spot as you on the chambers’ visiting room, his crossed legs almost passing over the small table where the teapot and the cups were still waiting to be taken away, his hands over his lap in an unfazed posture. Now, he had an eyepatch covering his eye, but just the sight of his left one fixed on Hermes was enough to make this latter choose his words carefully.  

Zeus’ spokesman, standing on the opposite side of the room, at the other chair’s right, seemed to have a hard time believing his uncle in fact arrived at Valhalla when you inadvertently revealed it to him, and even tried to convince you that you saw an impostor, but now that he had the original Hades in front of him, he understood how ridiculous was this theory.  

He tried to make up for it offering new tea when the other god entered the room, but Hades refused, focusing on his nephew’s shock instead. Whatever the place he went to, whatever the occasion he would attend, there would always be someone with that attitude. There was a time when this would irritate him, but today he’d rather laugh at it. Isn’t it funny not being expected in any place?  

– No one would question your right to come, Hades-sama – Hermes was saying – It’s just that...  

But the sentence was never finished.  

As recommended by prudence, Hermes decided to stay in silence and wait for the elder god to lead the conversation, which he soon started to do. A growing smile was noticed on his lips...  

And this was the first thing he said:  

– She’s adorable, isn’t she?  

Hermes didn’t hide the fact that this was the last thing he was expecting. Hades came to his chambers to compliment a woman? Well, it wasn’t just any woman. It was you . The very person he just told to go to her room and to be careful. Hades knew that his nephew had many opportunities to lay his eyes on you since the girls’ arrival, so that he could only agree.  

And that was what he did.  

– Y/n s/n? Yes, like all the other girls we brought this year, she’s very pretty, I must recognize. A bit anxious sometimes, but still a refreshing company.  

– Indeed, she’s a sight for sore eyes. But I’m not referring to her looks – Hades uncrossed his legs – I’m talking about her soul. That's what I came here to discuss with you, by the way.  

What a curious choice of words, even for Hades-sama. The younger god could only wonder what made him opt for it.  

But he would wait too long to have an answer.  

– We had an interesting conversation at the library today, about which she came to talk to you – Hades explained – It was wise of her, I must admit. Hermes, you know this better than me: most of the girls in her place would try to unravel the question by themselves or to keep our brief encounter a secret, perhaps moved by fear, but the first thing she did was to seek for advice with the Olympus’ messenger, who is supposed to know many things about many gods – with his fingers under his chin, the Governor of Hellheim smiled at the idea – Going to the right source to gather the necessary information. Tell me if this isn’t laudable?  

Hermes kept the modesty in his tone and words.  

– I wouldn’t disagree. She has academic inclinations and an organized line of thinking. Combined with this, she’s an excellent communicator. The men from the … region sent formidable girls this year, but she stands out.  

– I had chances to observe the girls and agree with you. Now – Hades’ gaze turned to him suddenly – I suppose she asked you about my name. Did you reveal it to her?  

– No, my Lord – was the immediate reply – When she described the events at the library, I had my suspicions and asked her about your appearance. Through her depiction, I had no doubts about your identity, but I only told her that, though I met a god with that description, he never comes to lecture any human. By the end of the conversation, she insisted in knowing your name, but I explained that you might have had your reasons to act this way and that I couldn’t interfere by giving her an information you chose not to share. I don’t know what y/n did after that, but she seemed to accept this.  

– Good – Hades approved – There are some things I need to confirm before I let her know who I am. I plan to reveal myself soon in the future, but I can’t discard the possibility of her discovering my identity by herself – and smiling, – Honestly, I’d like it more if things came out this way.  

A moment of silence followed this, when there was only one question in Hermes’ mind, one that he wouldn’t dare make, for he knew that his uncle would bring it to the conversation when he found it appropriate.  

And so he did.  

– I suppose you’re waiting for me to explain my interest in this girl.  

– I must admit I’m curious.  

Hades sighed, his hands still on his lap, and prepared himself to tell the story.  

– Well… I’ve been dreaming about a certain place in Hellheim that I haven’t visited in ages. A place left in ruins since the war against the Titans. In this dream, I find myself wandering, seeking for something, but I don’t know what it is. The only thing I know is that, once I find it, I will understand everything. And this happens when I pass under the ruins of a dome and see a person in the middle of circle of stones. A young woman with her back turned on me, apparently doing the same as myself: trying to find out what she’s doing there and what she’s supposed to find. She turns around, but doesn’t seem to notice my presence. The girl has a beauty such as we rarely see even among the goddesses. I keep looking at her face until the dream disappears and I’m dragged back to reality.  

“I’ve been dreaming of this for months, and this only stopped the night before I came to Valhalla. I’ve been visiting the library on a daily basis, reading every book with images of goddesses from all the known pantheons, looking for that woman, but I couldn’t find her. Not even the slightest resemblance – he chuckled – I hope you forgive me here, but I didn’t announce my coming in order to not be interrupted during my researching. I arrived a few days before the human girls, and I was aware that they could find me in case they went to the library, but I wasn’t worried. To my surprise, none of them noticed me, though I could see each of them from my usual spot. And that’s how I found y/n.  

“I had to stare at her for the entire time she stood on her table to convince myself I wasn’t seeing things. That was the reason why my researches weren’t being productive. The woman I’ve been looking for wasn’t among the gods… she was a human being. I’ve spent the entire night of that day debating the meaning of this. Why a human would be so important to me to the point of living in my dreams for months when I didn’t even know her? What is this that I’ve been failing to see?  

“I came back to the library the next day, hoping to see the girl one more time. Fortunately, she had her own researches to do, so she came back by the same hour and stood on her table for the same period of the previous day. And then she kept coming back on the third day, and the fourth and so on. I didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, but I could tell she was interested in the oneiric field, and in this sense, she seemed as frustrated as myself with the books, yet she didn’t give up. I admired her persistence.  

“By the end of one month, I finally decided to talk to her. It was when she told me about her own dreams. I asked her to describe the place she used to saw in them, and when she did, I finally understood everything. From the smallest stone to the aspect of the skies, she depicted the landscape so precisely that one would think she has been there for a long time. However, she couldn’t sense me there. I understood this as a sign to not reveal myself immediately, and that’s why I left her with this little mystery regarding my name. But once it’s solved... the picture will be complete, and we will have everything settled.”  

By the end of the narrative, Hades sighed and smiled with himself, satisfied with the effect that his last sentence provoked in his nephew. Hermes, on the other hand, listened to the entire story in silent expectation, no more doubting that the masters of the oneiric world, though not being physically present, were working hard in the case of the god and the girl. But some things remained unclear even to him.  

And he said this to Hades.  

– The connection the Dream Lords created for you is impressive and a bit sudden, I have to admit – he started – But what’s the real meaning of this, Hades-sama? Why they would show a part of Hellheim to a living human?  

Hades' smile widened at this.  

– Well, the right question is: why would they show that specific part of Hellheim to a living human?  

With his hand leaning under his chin, Hermes started to think, but wasn’t able to find a reasonable conclusion. Showing a place in ruins in the Underworld to someone who was still alive... It didn’t make any sense.  

– Let me answer it for you – Hades calmly interrupted his deliberations – This place wasn’t left untouched for no reason. I had my own plans for it, but I’ve been busy for ages after the War and until this day I haven’t had an opportunity to fulfill them. However, our dreams showed me that the time to turn my attention to these plans has come.  

Plans? Busy? The time has come? Hermes was afraid that he was starting to understand. A second look at the other’s face and it clicked inside his head.  

– My Lord, could it be...  

– Yes – the other replied, unfazed – I reserved that space to build a property for my family... in case I got one. There is something I haven’t told you yet: I’ve been analyzing the situation in my domains and the way I’ve been leading its matters after this dream started, and understood that Hellheim is currently in need of a female presence, which means it’s time for me to take a woman as my wife. And, according to the dreams, this woman is y/n.  

Hermes understood it was useless to keep his composure, so he gave up on doing it.  

– Hades-sama...! A human...as your wife?!  

The younger god’s commotion meant anything to Hades, who replied with the same naturality one would use to talk about the weather.  

– What’s the matter? Could it be that all of this is just a coincidence and I’m just being a fool?  

– Absolutely not, my Lord, but...  

– I’m aware of the struggles that are born from the difference between our nature and theirs, more than I can tell you – Hades interrupted him – But this is not an unsolvable problem.  

Hermes didn’t need to think twice to know what the Lord of the Underworld had in mind. But it was hard to believe he was willing to go so far for this.  

– Are you considering...  

– Yes. Psyche’s ritual might have remained obscure since the original case in order to avoid conflict between the gods, but it was never formally forbidden. I plan to propose it to y/n in the near future, when she will come to know everything about our dreams. If she will accept it or not, only time will tell, though it would be fun to watch her defy the strings of destiny – he chuckled – Speaking of destiny, I will remain in silence for now, but I hope I won’t have to face any problems among my pairs regarding this subject once I make an official announce – and giving Hermes a gaze as cold as he hasn’t seen since the War’s era – I also hope I can count on your discretion, dear nephew.  

The said nephew had his eyes widened, more because of the King's determination than because of the ritual itself, but like it would happen to any other god if they were in his place, the idea of creating obstacles for him wouldn’t cross his mind.  

Finally, he gave his uncle a compliant smile, followed by a calm response.  

– I certainly do, my Lord. After all, each god knows what’s best for their own domain.

Part IV

[valiantlycleverinfluencer]

Saying I wish the best to non Israeli Jews is deeply troubling. Half the Jews in the world live in Israel. Many came there as refugees fleeing genocide or are the children of those who did. Some have been living there for longer than the Israeli state. Jews have been expelled from innumerable countries. For some, there was nowhere else to go. Regardless of your feelings about Israel, this is simply fact.

And just like in every country, opinions vary widely! There are Israeli anarchists who despise their government, who fight the draft. There are violent and racist nationalists. And everything in between.

I doubt you chose your nationality and I doubt your country is one free of human rights violations and catastrophe.

I despise the Israeli government. I want an end to the genocide in Gaza. I am not coming to you from an Israeli nationalist perspective at all. But please, if you are talking about dehumanizing and demonizing people, please look inward.

Hmm. I understand how you could read that and come to that interpretation but that’s not at all what I meant. Right now non-Israeli jews are in the particular circumstance of having absolutely influence and (not all) connection to Israel as a state. It wasn’t an exclusionary statement meaning to say I wish the worst for Israeli jews. I was stating my sympathy for those specifically in the circumstance of being Jewish outside of Israel in the time of this global movement.

Sometimes when people say things they really only mean the words they say. I do have sympathy for Israeli jews and for Israelis in general. Living in an apartheid state is harmful to all involved in different ways. And resistance is difficult and often comes at a great personal cost to their safety security health and wellbeing. They just weren’t who I was talking about at the time in my statement. No one chooses where they were born. And I know there are undoubtably Israeli, Jewish or not, who oppose the actions of their government. Young and old. We can only control what we have control over.

😓Will there come a time where I am interpreted in good faith? No matter how many words I use to try and specify what I’m saying it seems someone’s always going to read into it something I never said nor meant. Autism loss. Also. I don’t get why people come into other people inboxes on anon instead of just replying where the comment was made. Cause like I have no way of knowing who this person is. Their connection to me or my statement or the issue. When I see comments I don’t like I ignore them or reply to them directly I have never been compelled to seek people out. Especially on anon cause you’re not getting a notification for this reply so either they’re refreshing my blog to wait for my response (silly) or they’re never going to see my reply (pointless). I feel like I’ll probably get some more of these but at least this one isn’t telling me to shut the fuck up 🙄. I’m answering any of them I think are genuinely in good faith (until such a time where they prove to not be in my eye) when I have something to say about it.

If you took the time of your day to read this I hope you’ll take the time of your day to donate or reblog some of the gfms for Palestinian families. It makes me so sad that I can’t donate to them because I’m on OW and I’m below poverty. I can barely afford groceries so I really sympathize with the displaced Palestinians , and Sudanese, facing all the atrocities. Our struggles are interwoven.

Free Palestine. Land Back. End the occupation.

Pps my direct messages are open to the best of my knowledge so if you really have an issue with how I said what I said and can’t help but make it my problem the least you could do is speak to me directly as we are both just people on the internet. Glhf sorry for the long post

[jodilin65]

Earlier this morning, I planned to have a mani-pedi, but the salon was closed. Instead, we visited Treasure Mart during a nice mini thunderstorm, a place we hadn’t been to in many months. We spotted some cute things that caught our eye, but they were a bit pricey, so we decided not to make any purchases. There was a figurine I almost bought; it was nice, but nothing extraordinary. Nonetheless, it was refreshing to get out. We strolled through the aisles of the large store for nearly an hour. Towards the end, I suddenly felt exhausted, realizing I need to be more active to build endurance to avoid getting tired easily. Because of it, he moved the treadmill back into the living room. I just don’t get enough of a workout hitting the road in VR.

Tomorrow, I’m scheduled to visit the salon, and on Thursday, I have a painting class at the clubhouse.

The hammering next door has begun. I’m guessing this is where they start hammering down the borders. I don’t see a truck over there, though, and I didn’t see anyone in back so maybe they’re starting on the other side of the house. Then again, these houses are so damn close that if he was hammering on his exterior living room wall or the exterior wall of the second bedroom, I would hear it in here. I just hope they’re done with whatever they’re doing before I start sleeping in!

We talked about some future activities we want to do. For $65 each we can get taken out on a boat, given a wetsuit, and go snorkeling with manatees. This is at a place an hour north of here.

There’s also a walking trail nearby that might be a fun place to go when we’re bombing the place.

So I called and left a message for them to give to Rhonda about the breathing issues caused by the nitrofurantoin and asked if I could be switched to bactrim or amoxicillin.

OMG, I’m so pissed. I’ll have to finish this later.

Okay, I’m back. The girl who works in the office called telling me to call her back after we agreed she could leave a message. When I called, she said my urine test was negative.

Then why the hell was I given an antibiotic and put at risk of getting a yeast infection if it was negative?

So now I’m waiting for the nurse to call back with more info and I’m going to answer since I know that even though I once again reminded them that they could leave all the detailed messages they want, I’m just gonna be told to call back.

Damn, do I miss Galileo!

Anyway, unless all these doctors are missing something, I’m going to assume that any burning I’ve been feeling is due to menopause. It can be pretty bad from what I was told, and of course, I always have to get it the worst. If I can’t manage to get it under control myself, then I might have to make a GYN appointment.

The honker is trimming the tree between him and Sue. I thought that was something he normally did before he left but if he’s interested in an event at the end of next month, he probably won’t leave until May.

Yesterday his truck never moved at all, which is unusual for him, so I’m guessing he was either picked up or was very sick.

Oh, look at that. Colleen is over there with him now even though her vehicle isn’t there. I’m a little worried that this relationship could cause him to move down here full-time or stay here longer but maybe she’s a snowbird too. I’m now guessing he was over at her place yesterday. It’s only about a five-minute walk over there. What are they going to do, though, unless she too is from his area of Canada? Have a relationship every other 6 months?

[mountswhore]

hey! see u were taking requests so i wanted one with mason related to "london boy" by taylor swift? maybe reader is a singer or something like that?

one of the best taylor swift songs imo, so of course!

𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 — mason mount

summary: mason shows you around london during your break, and now you don't think you can ever go back

notes: requests are open again! my asks are open.

Leaving your hometown in New York to visit the world was one of the hardest things you had to do. But you had your dream job, now it was time to follow it. Your recent album was a success, pouring your heart into it as you recovered from your breakup. Your fans had watched your relationship build, and then break apart. Hearing your side of things through 14 songs. Awards, interviews, and traction had come from it, earning you a world tour. It was a scary thing to do, considering it was your first international tour.

“I just want to come back to New York already, I’ve not been on this tour long.” You complained to your sister, curled up in a hotel bed in London. Your first destination was the UK, and there was nothing worse than being homesick.

“Quit being a baby, the UK is so nice.” Your sister replied, chuckling shortly afterwards. “Me and dad visited Manchester, I think? Very nice looking, at least where we stayed.” You sighed, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You loved your cosy apartment in New York, you were even starting to miss the constant traffic sounds and arguing in the early hours of the morning.

“I guess, and I know London is nice, at least. I think I’m gonna interact with some fans,” you decided, pulling the duvet further up your body, “speak tomorrow at sound check.” You ended the call, liking some tweets and replying to a few things, eventually tweeting something of your own.

“Happy to see a lot of my UK fans tomorrow, can’t wait to scream my feelings out with you,” Declan read out, giving Mason a cheeky look. The pair of them were in Mason’s living room, enjoying their evening of FIFA. The boys had spoken about you plenty of times, in interviews too, Mason declaring you as his celebrity crush.

“Shut up already, she probably doesn’t even know who I am.” Mason stated, resting his arm over his eyes to conceal the blush on his face. Him, Declan and a few other boys were going to your concert tomorrow night, some of the WAGs suggested it as they loved your music.

“You think she’s not going to notice a blue tick in her dm’s? It’s worth a shot.” Declan encouraged his friend to shoot his shot, close to grabbing his phone and doing it himself, but instead he was watching Mason bashfully scroll through your twitter replies. “Do it, or I will.”

Mason sighed, clicking the reply button and typing out a reply, handing the phone to Declan to review. ‘Can’t wait, wanna see you.’

“Perfect,” Declan mumbled, pressing the reply button for him. He knew Mason never would, he just saved him 20 minutes of back and forth debate. Handing Mason his phone back, Declan smirked as he watched his friend's face change from fairly embarrassed, to shocked.

“There’s no fucking way you sent that.” Mason remarked, refreshing his phone to see his tweet attract likes. “You dick.”

Declan just laughed as Mason had turned completely red, watching the likes and replies collect under his tweet. Moments later, you’d appeared in his dm’s.

‘I recognise you.’

It was an ominous message from you, one that had you pacing and replaying the creepy message over and over again. But Mason smiled at the message, all ounces of worry leaving his body as he replied to you.

‘Oh yeah? From where?’

‘Actually, I think I recognise your teammate, Pulisic. He’s all my brother talks about sometimes. But all I know is that he plays for a soccer team.’

He laughed at your reply, Declan watching over in pure disbelief.

‘You have a lot to learn about the UK, and luckily I know all about it.’

‘I’ll hold you to that, come backstage after the show, bring whoever you’re with. I’m in London for the next few days before my next show, maybe you can show me around.’

“There’s no way you’re flirting with Y/N Y/L/N within two minutes of replying to her tweet.” Declan stated, Mason smirking at his best friend before sending another reply.

‘Bet.'

Your show was now over and you were anxiously waiting for the boys to be escorted back stage. You didn't know much about football, especially over here, but you knew the boys that were coming back stage were professionals. You'd learnt their names, Declan, Jack, and Mason. Jack and Declan brought their girlfriends along, but Mason was 'painfully single', as he put it.

Finally, as you sat down in your chair to relax, you heard a knock at the door. It was them. They had all filed in, the two girls in shock that they were meeting you. You'd given them all a hug, and gotten to Mason. He looked down at you as you pulled him in, squeezing you tightly before letting you go again.

"Did you guys enjoy it?" You asked, ushering them to the couch for them to sit down. You wanted them to feel as comfortable as possible, rushing over to your dressing room fridge and pulling out some drinks.

"It was amazing," Sasha gawked, still in awe over seeing you for the first time, "we saw you have one in Birmingham in a few weeks, so we're going to that one too." You blushed, returning to your seat opposite the couch.

"That's so sweet! I'm sure I can get you some good tickets, I'll dm you on Instagram or something." You suggested to her, Sasha eagerly nodding her head. You conversed with the group of five, Mason giving you a particular look that you had mirrored back to him. You planned on getting his number, and making sure he showed you around London.

Soon enough, the group was heading back to wherever they were staying, as it was beginning to get quite late. "Thank you guys for coming, and I'm so glad I met you."

Mason stayed behind, folding his arms and sharing a smirk with you as his friends voices trailed down the hallway. "So, about this bet."

"Yeah," you replied casually, grabbing your water bottle from the table and taking a sip, being in the presence of an attractive man again was giving you quite the nerves, "I'll take your number, because I'd love to get to know London." He nodded, grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket and handing it to you.

"Perfect. See you."

You and Mason had planned your first meeting in a pub. It wasn't the classiest of places, but your plan was to get to know the UK. Mason had ordered you both a drink, guessing what you like and nailing it when you went in for a second sip and shoved a thumb up.

"So," he began, fiddling with the coaster his beer sat on, "how long are you in London for?"

"Just until Thursday, Friday morning I'm heading to Manchester." You stated, realising you only had four days with Mason, including today.

"Well, we better make the days count then." Mason declared. The pair of you spoke about his career as well as yours, talking about how different school was for the pair of you. Mason had stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, and you'd accepted it without complaint. He led you out of the pub and through the town center, gazing at the stalls set up around you. The weather wasn't so different to New York, both constantly dreary, but you were liking London so far.

On your second day together, you'd taken a cab to another town, this time to just experience the busy streets. To Mason, this was normal. For you, it was only familiar. New York was one of the busiest cities in the world, but London was different, better in every other way. You'd finished your day together, stomachs full of pub food, and in the back of a cab, rain pattering on the windows. You'd shuffled closer to Mason, placing your hand on his and squeezing. He looked at you briefly, smiling his usual smile, before quickly looking out at the street in an effort to hide his tinged cheeks.

Day three, the weather was too bad to do anything. But Mason kept you company in your hotel room. He'd taught you a bunch of British slang, laughing as your accent completely butchered them all. You'd shown him a snippet of your new song before room service had arrived. And the night ended with the pair of you collapsed in your bed, tv playing in the back ground, but your eyes on each other. It was like pure magic, the long-awaited feeling of his lips on yours. You'd been thinking about it all day, missing every opportunity until now.

Your final day was the worst. You both knew it was coming, you wouldn't see him until you had a break, and he had one too. You both had stupidly busy schedules, as well as living in different countries. Maybe one day you could bring him to New York, show him your side of life. And maybe one day you'll branch out and move here.

Mason had helped you carry your things out of your hotel room, which was taking you to Manchester. Your manager had texted you to be in the car before 3, which meant you had just 10 minutes until you had to say goodbye to Mason for a while.

You were stood in the foyer of the hotel, waiting for the car to arrive. You'd secretly hoped it didn't, you wanted to stay with Mason for a while longer, but you couldn't. Duty called.

"Thank you for showing me around London," you spoke, looking up at Mason, who was hiding his deflated feelings, "I really enjoyed it, I might even prefer it to New York."

"That's a given. I'm here." He joked, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. These four days had been immense fun for him, different to how he usually spent his days. Different than night at home alone, different than a night on the town. Was it too soon to say he missed you?

Mason looked down at you as you clung to his side, hoping he felt the same way you did. And he did, you just didn’t know that. His fingers slid across your jaw slowly, pulling your chin up to look at him. It was an intense moment, so many different emotions. He’d leaned in and kissed you, it was his parting gift. To say that he’d see you soon enough.

“Enjoy Manchester, I’m sure I can fit another show in somehow.” Mason spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You spoke, the car pulling up outside. He’d dragged your suitcases out to the car, popping them in the boot for you. Finally, he stared at you through the window, which you quickly rolled down. “I fancy you, is that the right term?”

Mason laughed, head tipping back slightly. “Yeah, it is. And I fancy you too.”

[thecrowslullaby]

If you want to for the setting, trope and sentence thing 13, Q and 42 and you pick the ship.

But you just start it by doing as much as you want than I'll carry on as much as I want and than whomever wants it to continue will carry it on.

That is, if you want to and I'm sure you are a good writer, you clearly planned out the murder mystery AU very well.

I combined two prompts because I'm a cheater like that.

CW: none I can think of

Summary: Patton plans a group vacation in the mountains, too bad 4 out of 6 friends couldn't make it to the destination before the snow storm hit.

Pairing: loceit (hey, you told me to pick a ship so you have yourself to blame for this)

He was stuck alone with Logan.

He was stuck alone in a house with Logan in the middle of nowhere without a clear notion of when the others would arrive.

It was Patton's fault. As per usual he insisted they should all do something together. He rented a vacation home and more or less forced all his friends to spend their winter vacation together.

To say Janus wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of spending 4 days of his hard earned work-leave with so many people, with one of them being his crush, in the middle of nowhere would be an understatement. He really thought it couldn’t get worse. The universe seemed to prove him wrong.

Logan, ever the pedantic, arrived first, retrieved the keys and settled into one of the rooms. By the time Janus arrived, tired out of his mind from his business trip, the tall man managed to unpack his suitcase and refresh himself.

The trip was supposed to only last a day, but his boss underestimated how much needed to be done, again. So Janus was forced to stay behind another day to help close off the deal, again. He thought he would be the last one to arrive, but instead the only one there to greet him was Logan.

“Where are the others?” Janus asked and Logan’s face fell a little. “Shouldn’t they be here by now?”

“Unfortunately Patton's mini van broke down and the rest of the group was forced to make an emergency stop. To make matters worse there was a weather forecast for a snow storm so Patton, Virgil and the twins decided to wait it out in one of the hotels along the road.” Janus made a face.

“Great.” He said sarcastically. “Just what I wanted to hear.” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Why would it-”

“That was sarcasm, dear.” Janus signed. “Is there any good news?”

“Their van is repaired but they most likely won’t be arriving until tomorrow.” Logan said “Patton promised to keep us updated.”

“Splendid” Janus signed. “So I guess we’re stuck here for the next few hours.”

“I’m going to inspect all the windows.” Logan informed Janus.

“Suit yourself” Janus signed, his bag still slouched over his shoulder “I’m gonna lay down and die for like a half hour okay?”

He didn’t wait for a response and quickly made his escape. He threw his bag next to the armchair in the living room. He still had some time before the others would arrive so he didn’t need to worry about securing a good bedroom and rest up after the long day he had.

He opened his phone to a dozen missed calls and unread messages, most of them likely warnings about the upcoming weather change. He signed as he started reading through them.

At least he still had reception. He considered that a small blessing.

That is until Remus called him. Sure he could have not picked up but he was desperate for a distraction. And his friend was distracting if nothing else.

'How's your one on one vacation with Venti ma-hot-ion going'

'Please never use that nickname agan' he could hear Remus cackling on the other side.

'You never answered my question.'

'We're stuck in a house together, how well do you think it's going?'

'Very well? You already smooched him? ' Janus signed, rubbing his temples

‘Nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen Remus’

'Booooooring, come on Janus, tell him you like him keep me entertained a little'

'Go bully your brother'

'Nah, that's too easy.' Remus signed dramatically and Janus could hear Virgil snickering in the background. Remus probably put him on loudspeaker.

'Do it Janus' he could hear the emo shout 'do it fo looooove~' he teased

'You have to Janus~' Remus joined in, much to Virgil’s delight 'go confess your undying looooove~'

'Hush it, both of you.' he hissed at his friends who only started to snicker more. He might trust Remus and Virgil with this information, but Lord help him if either Roman or Patton would find out.

'Oh come on, you love us~'

'Not as much as he loves Logan~'

They started to snicker again.

'One more word out of either of you and I'm texting Patton for your location to drive over and kick your asses'

'Kinky'

'Maybe focus on Logan's ass for now.'

'That's it, I'm disowning you two'

'Will Logan get custody of-'

"Janus?" Logan poked his head into the living room. Virgil and Remus started to chant 'Logan' while snickering like madmen, clearly loud enough for Logan to hear, as he pointed to the electrical device "Are those Remus and Virgil" Janus quickly hung up.

"What do you mean?" He smiled innocently at Logan and batted his eyelashes.

"Nevermind" he said slowly, thankfully deciding not to press. "I'd hoped you'd help me start on dinner in case we lose power later on in the evening."

Oh yes, perfect. Just what he needed to get his mind off Logan: spending more time with Logan.

"No thank you." The look on Logan's face was priceless. He stood there, mouth wide open. "Unless you want flies for dinner I suggest closing your mouth, dear."

Logan drew his mouth into a thin line. And Janus snickered, sliding off the couch.

"Fine, fine, what do you want me to do?"

***

Janus was halfway through chopping tomatoes when he heard his phone buzz.

It buzzed again.

And again.

He signed as he wiped his hands on a kitchen cloth.

A text-spam from Remus, each of them reading ‘Janus’

‘What?’ He angrily texted back.

‘Ok, I have your attention’ Janus rolled his eyes as he watched the three dots blink under Remus' contact.

'Hey don't freak out' this was already off to a great start.

'What did you do?' Janus wrote back. This couldn't be good, but then again he should have expected Remus to stir up some chaos before the vacation ended. After all, his first encounter with his current best friend was trying to get him out of a literal burning dumpster. He hoped whatever it was, it didn’t involve arson and a lengthy lawsuit this time.

'But I might have sent something to the wrong number.' Ok, this couldn’t be that bad.

‘You want me to help clean up your messes again?’ He teased.

'Well, this is technically more of your mess.’ he could hear Remus gulp. ‘I might have accidentally sent something meant for Virgil to Logan and it might or might not mention our most recent conversation.'

Oh

Oh no

Oh no no no no no

‘You did WHAT?’ He quickly typed back, no,no, no. This had to be a mistake

‘An upsy daisy?’ Remus had the audacity to write back.

'I'm going to murder you.'

'Kinky'

Janus took a deep breath. If he survives this, his friend sure won’t.

[qitwrites]

⬅ Previous || 20 || Next ➡

Kirishima stays behind in the gym most evenings. This is not news to anyone, nor is it uncommon.

He usually outstays everyone actually. His stamina seems to be endless, and his quirk relies on his physical health and his ability to increase and extend his limits. So, Kirishima stays, and he trains, and he smiles the whole time. He pumps iron like a madman but makes sure to stay (barely) within his limits.

Tokoyami is aware of Kirishima’s gym habits, so he isn’t surprised when he backtracks one day to pick up a towel he’d left on one of the stands, only to find Kirishima in the room even though it’s late evening. It isn’t anything worth noting.

What is weird though is seeing him sitting cross-legged on the floor, right in front of the floor to ceiling mirrors, his face almost glued to his reflection. He’s leaning with his hands on his knees, and Tokoyami’s sure his forehead is touching the mirror.

The red head just stares at his reflection, and Tokoyami realizes that Kirishima is so absorbed in whatever it is that he’s doing that he doesn’t even realize the beaked hero is in the room. Tokoyami cocks his head to the side and decides to wait a minute before making his presence known.

Moments later, Kirishima hardens himself. More specifically, he hardens himself from the neck up, his arms and legs still soft and unchanged. It’s still nothing too out of the ordinary, except the face-plastered-to-the-mirror-while-on-the-floor bit.

7 seconds later, Kirishima takes a deep breath and grunts, hardening further. Layers and layers of hardening stack up like a deck of cards, and Tokoyami swallows back a chirp of amazement as he witnesses Kirishima go into Unbreakable form, his face and neck jagged and sharp. It’s mesmerizing almost, his diamond like appearance, the way it makes the vertebrae on the back of his neck jut out like a protective armor, the way even his hair hardens, though he’s left it in a pony right now.

And his eyes. Kirishima’s eyes look fierce, fiery, and so menacing. Tokoyami watches him in awe.

Kirishima continues to stay on the floor, staring at his reflection in Unbreakable. Reading his expressions might be difficult when his face is literally like a slab of well sculpted marble, not soft or malleable enough to form expressions and convey emotions, but Tokoyami can tell he’s furrowing his brow. He can see the frustration dancing in his brown-red eyes, and a few more seconds later Kirishima drops his quirk entirely. His vertebrae melt back into his neck, his cheeks are soft and fluffy, his hair puffy, and his eyes-

Sad. Thoughtful. Frustrated.

Tokoyami clears his throat. ‘Excuse me.’

Kirishima whips his head around with a surprised look on his face. He breaks into a grin when he sees Tokoyami.

‘What’s up man?’

Tokoyami points at the stands near Kirishima, slowly making his way towards it. ‘I seem to have left my towel here, I wish to pick it up so I may wash it before our next sessions.’

Kirishima looks at the stand and nods in understanding. ‘Gotcha! Please go ahead.’ He gives him a thumbs up.

Tokoyami picks up the familiar black towel with its deep purple border. The material is familiar and deceptively soft, and it smells like him. He hugs it to his chest and takes a step back before turning to look at Kirishima. The redhead catches his stare in the mirror and looks up, throwing him a quizzical smile.

‘Pardon the intrusion,’ Tokoyami starts softly, fidgeting with the towel. ‘I happened to walk in while you engaged your quirk, and I am unable to understand your intentions.’

Kirishima’s face pales instantly. ‘Oh shit, you saw that? I swear, I’m not using my quirk for anything weird, I know we aren’t supposed to use it outside of hero stuff yet but please don’t tell anyone, I really don-‘

‘Ah, you misunderstand,’ Tokoyami interrupts. ‘I do not believe you’re doing anything improper or unsafe. I merely wish to inquire about your intentions as I could not decipher them for myself. That is, of course, if you wish to speak about it. With me. If not, I understand completely and will gladly drop the subject.’

Kirishima immediately deflates with a relieved sigh. He looks away from Tokoyami and watches his own face in the mirror. Tokoyami moves his gaze to Kirishima’s face, and they look at each other through the reflective surface. Kirishima gives him a small smile, tentative and uncertain and very un-Kirishima like.

‘I don’t like talking about it cause it sounds super dumb but it’s not like I don’t want to talk about it. Um. Just. Don’t laugh? I guess?’

Tokoyami nods. ‘I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I am honored that you would trust me enough to open up about whatever it is that seems to plague your mind.’

Kirishima laughs softly. ‘I don’t think it’s anything quite so dramatic. It’s just, I’ve been doing some quirk training, I guess? Not the kind I can do during our Hero course though. This is more personal?’

Tokoyami nods in understanding, silently urging him to continue.

‘I’ve read so many things about my Unbreakable form. Most people love it. And I love it! I mean, it’s definitely a work in progress, and I know I can develop it more and get better and stronger and everything, but it’s a good move for sure. So, like, I know we all get our criticisms about our quirks, that’s normal and that’s ok.’

Kirishima clenches the fists in his lap, eyes dropping down to watch them. ‘I’ve read that my Unbreakable form is scary. Ugly. Menacing. Frightening.’ He purses his lips. ‘I don’t think those are bad things, not at all. And I don’t really mind what it looks like, it gets the job done!’

Kirishima looks back up, twisting to catch Tokoyami’s eyes with his own, omitting the mirror altogether. ‘But I wonder if my face is too scary for the kids, you know? And when I’m in the middle of a rescue in the future, I don’t want to add to their stress. I don’t want to scare them anymore than they already probably will be. But I can’t really drop Unbreakable all the time either.’

Tokoyami nods again, understanding Kirishima’s problems and feeling it ache in his core.

‘So, I wondered if there’s any way for me to make Unbreakable just a little more humane while preserving its functionality. I was thinking about softening just my eyes, so they’re not quite so jagged and scary.’

Kirishima’s eyes move back to the mirror, and he punches his thigh roughly, mouth twisting into a grimace. ‘Fine control over small portions of my body is hard though. I have a tough enough time maintaining Unbreakable on its own. To fine tune that even more seems impossible. And like, I’m not even sure it’ll work. I don’t know. I don’t have any idea what I’m doing Tokoyami. Not a damned clue.’

Tokoyami trills in thought, his hand moving up to support his chin.

‘While I do not wish to move the subject away from you, I would like to convey my empathy for I too face similar challenges.’ He gently prods Dark Shadow from within before continuing, ‘I do not have a conventional appearance. I do not look scary either, but Dark Shadow is, I have been told, a formidable presence.’

Dark Shadow peeks over Tokoyami’s shoulder and waves enthusiastically at Kirishima. The redhead breaks into a huge grin and returns the gesture with gusto, more than used to Dark Shadow’s appearance and antics. He really likes the guy.

‘I appreciate that our classmates have gotten used to us, and to him, but I also question how many civilians would like to be rescued by an individual with an ability like mine. I too would not like to add to their distress.’

Kirishima nods in understanding, the look in his eyes softening immeasurably.

‘I am unsure of how to help, but I would be happy to provide you with any moral support or even some simple company while you embark on this quest.’

Kirishima pats the spot next to him. ‘Sure thing Tokoyami, I really appreciate it man!’

Tokoyami nods and takes a seat on the floor. The two boys move to face each other, and Tokoyami spends the next half hour watching Kirishima engage his quirk, engage Unbreakable, and then struggle to soften his eyes.

He watches as Kirishima softens a cheek instead sometimes, watches as his forehead ripples uncertainly, watches his neck pulse with his quirk, and watches as his eyes sometimes go soft and warm. He encourages the best he can, celebrating the victories and pushing Kirishima to try once more when he fails. They burst into laughter more often than not, and it’s honestly a lot of fun.

Even Dark Shadow hangs around, somehow procuring pom-poms to celebrate and cheer.

When Kirishima finally calls it an evening, they get to their feet and start heading to the dorms.

‘If you require company, please do not hesitate to approach me. If I am able, it would be an honor to cheer you on and watch you succeed in this endeavor.’

Kirishima places a large, warm hand on his shoulder and squeezes. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this Tokoyami! I don’t practice it every day, but I’ll shoot you a text whenever I get the time to practice, and we can try to coordinate and make it work!’ He gives him his big sunshine smile. ‘Thank you for talking to me about it by the way, I really do feel a lot better.’

Tokoyami gives him another nod, and the boys walk back, enjoying the evening breeze and some light banter.

In the following weeks, Tokoyami and Kirishima swap messages and meet a lot more often. Tokoyami keeps tabs of his progress and gently pushes him to do better, and Kirishima laughs around with Dark Shadow when they take breaks. Sometimes they meet, decide they’re too lazy to quirk train and just watch old horror movies that leave Kirishima hiding behind Dark Shadow instead. Sometimes they listen to alt rock or do bicep curls. It’s a refreshing change of pace for both of them.

All their training does pay off though, sooner than they could’ve anticipated.

Aizawa brings Eri with him to hero training one day, and the young girl sits on a chair out of the way, watching with wide, amazed eyes. Aizawa stays close to her, watching over training with keen, knowing eyes. When he sees Kirishima doing some resistance training in Unbreakable form, he thinks of some pointers.

‘Riot!’

The redhead whips around to look at his teacher. Aizawa makes a come over here gesture with his hand, and Kirishima drops his quirk as he starts walking.

‘Come over here with your quirk engaged,’ Aizawa says. ‘You need to keep working on how long you can maintain your Unbreakable form, so don’t drop it right now.’

Immediately Kirishima engages his quirk and walks over to Aizawa, and every step is filled with the sharp sound of friction. Tokoyami watches as they talk, and he sees Eri looking at Red Riot with big wonderous eyes.

When they’re done chatting, Kirishima looks over at Eri. She flinches slightly, though no one can blame that on Kirishima’s appearance- Eri still flinches with most people.

Still, Tokoyami watches as Kirishima gets on his knees in front of her, still in Unbreakable form, and he sees Kirishima soften his eyes. They become liquid ruby, and he can feel the warmth almost from halfway across the gym.

He can’t hear what they say, but he sees Eri smile bright and even giggle, and he sees Aizawa appraising the situation with raised brows and an impressed sort of half smile.

Tokoyami gives Kirishima a pat on the back in his mind and bumps fists with Dark Shadow.

They all definitely have to celebrate later with some old horror movies and popcorn.

[deadinside-butstill-horny]

The Night We Met

Part One - The Night We Met

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: Murphy's sister travels to Colombia after realising Steve might not quite be A-Okay and meets the Javier Peña.

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you'd like to see anything in particular. If it's in my wheelhouse, you'll definitely see it.  

Pedro in the black shirt in this scene is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie. 

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake. 

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin' airline ticket. You had attempted to grab life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentarial bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into a full scale panic attack if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim. 

You were fuckin’ dumb. 

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar. 

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self. 

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing. 

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn't have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed.  A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret. 

You had to check on Steve. 

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn't there to kill him. 

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother's address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other.  The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian. 

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here. 

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands,you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought. 

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response. 

“Uh… no hablo... español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi...Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason. 

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda... does he know you’re here?” 

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed. 

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second. 

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again. 

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it's a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive. 

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with. 

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you. 

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more. 

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man... Good to know. 

...

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one. 

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink. 

“Murphy? … Yeah…  you need to get back to your place now... You’ve got a guest.... No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother's partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months. 

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another's company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving.  He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance. 

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner's sister and he was doing the decent thing. 

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with false surprise, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.”  You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it's a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds. 

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired. 

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out. 

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone. 

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman's tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman's words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son... I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…”  Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.” 

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own. 

How was he so goddamn warm? 

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man's elbow and you’re a blushing mess.  

Get a grip Y/N. 

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art. 

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia... Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host.  You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully. 

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it's probably ‘cause he’s busy...  He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.” 

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention,  you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning."

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier.  He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit. 

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier's hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach. 

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching.  He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system.  You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother's partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve... 

“... This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint. 

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance. 

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own. 

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love.  This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew. 

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throught your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered  “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man's hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser. 

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own.  Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it. 

“...Is Steve okay?”

“...No... He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding. 

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime. 

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve's voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “...what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it's not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.  

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia. 

This had definitely not been a mistake. 

Part Two

[ahsxual]

Save Me

Pairing: Detective David Loki x Reader

Summary: You and David have been together for a few months now. You knew his job was exhausting and obscure, but lately he had been spending less time with you and being more distant, until something he wasn't expecting happens...

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, lots of swearing, children kidnap (since it's based on the movie)

Word Count: 4,1k

A/N: This one is dark!!! I'm so happy for finally writing a fic about Detective Loki, my sweet and handsome savior <33 I personally think that this piece is really cute and romantic, yet terrifying... Sooo, I hope you enjoy it! ^-^

You had no idea of what was happening... You didn't know why the love of your life has been so distant lately, and acting so weird every time he was around you... Had you done something wrong? Didn't he love you anymore??, you asked the same torturing questions to yourself every day, non-stop.

You were currently drinking a hot cup of cappuccino under five, comfortable, warm blankets while watching your favorite series, since it was really cold outside and you were by yourself. It was the middle of winter, so whenever you looked outside the window, all you could see was bright, comforting and gorgeous shades of white of sweet snow. Winter used to comfort you in a way no other season did: on those freezing days, you were able to spend all day in bed with David, warming each other's bodies in your tight embraces, and making love until you started feeling so hot that it seemed like summer had already arrived. But this time, you didn't feel any of that: you painfully missed your boyfriend. You missed your moments together, the sweet, yet rare laughs that managed to come out of his well-defined lips, knowing you were the only one that could achieve them... and that's why you were so special to him, because you were the only woman and person in this world who was able to make him feel truly happy, loved and accepted. Before you started dating, he was so worried that you would leave him sooner than later, or that anything bad would happen to you if he let you enter in his life so deeply... and he was also terrified of falling in love with you, because then it would too late for him to turn back.

It was already 1 am, and you had no messages, calls or even a sign that he was still alive.This was pure torture. You were trying to hold your tears back so hard, not wanting to feel weak once you let them fall, but it was inevitable for carrying so much suffering and not letting even a gasp out of your lonely and unloved body... at least that's how you felt. When you were about to turn off the lights to get ready to sleep, so you could refresh your mind and relax a little bit, you suddenly heard your front door being calmly knocked. It was strange since David would always use his keys to enter your house, but you had been missing him way too much to think properly, so without thinking twice, you got out of bed and ran as quickly as you could to open the door for him... or at least that's what you wished.

"David!" you instantly called your lover's name, not having time to react once you realized it wasn't him.

"Sorry honey, David is not coming soon." with a maniac grin planted on his creepy face. That was all the stranger said before you felt a strong knock on your head, making you instantly fall unconscious.

---------------------------------------------------

A few hours passed when you were finally able to open your eyes. Your entire body was sore and shaking from the freezing weather, and you could feel your own blood dripping down your forehead where the agressor had beaten you; your arms and legs were tightly tied with some cheap rope, and the only thing you were sure about was that you were inside someone else’s house.

"Where the fuck am I?! GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW!" you screamed as loud as you could, hoping that someone would check up on you, so you could at least recognize the person who abducted you. You then heard excited whispers from a man saying: "She's awake!!", and you couldn't help yourself, but to feel disgusted and utterly scared of what could happen...

"Well, well, the sleeping beauty has already come to her senses!" an old woman entered the barely lit room you were currently being kept hostage, and you didn't hesitate to express your confusion.

"What the... who are you? Where the hell is your ass-hatted companion?" you blantantly asked, referring to the man who you saw previously at your front door. Out of the sudden, you felt a hard slap on your face, leaving a red mark behind.

"Fuck you, you crazy bitch!" you screamed at her, feeling a burning and painful sensation on your left cheek, spreading slowly all over your face.

"Watch your mouth, girl! Only because you're detective's whore doesn't mean you can say whatever you want! Here and now you will respect and obey me, until your sweet, handsome boyfriend comes find you. Then, I'll torture and kill him right in front of you... I mean, that is if he notices your absence at all." she started to laugh exaggeratedly at your face, her words hurting and cutting deeper than a sharpened kitchen knife. You turned your face away from the crazy lady, trying to cover your suffering and heavy tears from her... but it was useless.

"Aww, did I hit a soft spot, honey?" she pretended to be worried about you, moving closer to you and hunching over next to you, making you find the perfect opportunity to spit right onto her maniacal face. "Ughh, you fucking bi-"

"Wait!" the stranger who seemed to be the one who abducted you, interrupted her. You both looked at him confused, not understanding why he stopped her from beating you.

"Let me do it. I want to beat that fuck-head's girlfriend." the abductor approached you slowly, rolling up his sleeves excitedly before you felt the first punch of many on that night.

"Good job, boy. Entertain yourself while the detective wastes his precious time looking for that bitch instead of the kids." the psychotic woman said, casually, like what she just said wasn't an devilish plan at all. She must be so used to do this... poor children... if only I could save them like David does..., you devastatingly thought to yourself.

"How can you hurt the poor childrens who are so innocent compared to your disturbed mind?! How can you get pleasure out of it, you sick BASTARD?!!" you screamed with all the strenght you had in your throat and lungs. Oh, how you wished to kill those two pieces of trash with your own hands...

"You don't understand..." the man tried to excuse himself from the horrifying crimes he enjoyed so much to commit.

"OF COURSE I DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND, AND I NEVER WILL!! THEY ARE JUST CHILDREN, FOR FUCK SAKE!!" your lungs were burning by now, and your stinging tears were uncontrollably running down your beaten and sore bruised cheeks.

"Let her spill all that anger out of her chest, honey. We don't want her to get exhausted already." she smirked wickedly at you. "She will be our guest for a long time..."

---------------------------------------------------

Two days had passed, and you were still in that dark, small torture room that was once just a casual room. They barely fed you and offered you water to drink, causing your lips and mouth to be tremendously dry. Your face was covered in bruises and cuts, some deeper than others, yet they all bled and hurt like hell. You had lost track of how much time had passed that night. All you knew, was that you were suddenly awaken by a strong, yellow light and some little girl's deafening screams and pleading cries.

"Please, let me go!!" the poor young girl pleaded, yet no pleads of her were enough to stop the devil himself, also known as the owner of the house you were currently on.

"I brought you company!" she then carelessly pushed the little girl to the rigid ground. "Seems like your boyfriend is getting suspicious, so while I distract him, you two will remain shut before I kill you all. He’ll be the first one to go, surely." she smiled once again, before closing the door harshly. David is here?

The innocent girl cried harder when she heard the door being closed roughly, and since you didn't want anything bad to happen to both of you or to your boyfriend, you did your best to calm her down.

"It's ok sweetheart, I'm here with you now, you don't have to feel alone anymore. I promise I won't let anything bad to happen to you from now on, ok?" you sounded like your boyfriend and that thought made you smile weakly for an instant. The girl was still absurdly scared, all her trust and hope in human kind being completely destroyed by the terror she had been through at such a young age, which was totally understandable. She stepped back away from you when you tried to reach for her small and fragile hand, since you had managed to get your hands free by patiently untying the tight ropes like David had taught you. It was a technique you used in emergency situations, and this was one of them. He always prepared you for the worse, teaching you everything he had learned, so you could save yourself when he's not capable and things like this would eventually happen. You immediately withdrew your hand by instinct, but you weren't one to give up so easily.

"Can you... can you tell me your name..?" come one Y/n, you can do better than this. "I'm very hurt too... you see? So my only intention here is to get both of us out of here... she is a very bad woman, but I am not. You know, I'm detective's girlfriend who is looking for you since... the beginning. And your father is helping him! They are our saviors, so they will rescue us from this ugly place very soon." you kindly explained to her, trying to give her some faith and remind her of her family... remind her that this wasn't her reality. The world out there, united with her family and friends, is where she truly belongs. She looked at you intensely, and you could finally see some light of hope in those big, gorgeous eyes. Once again, you remembered your stunning lover and the loving stares he would give you all the time, the ones that never failed to give you goosebumps all over your skin.

"Is... is my father looking for me..?" she finally spoke to you. If you didn't know it was coming from her, you could swear that her voice belonged to an angel because of its sweetness and innocence. You almost let heartbreaking tears escape your tired eyes... but you had to remain strong for her.

"Of course, darling. He loves you so, so much, and he would never forget or give up on you." for the thousandth time, you remembered your sweet and lovely boyfriend again, and on how you deeply craved to hear those reassuring words come out of his mouth, instead. A moment of silence was installed for a few seconds, before she decided that trusting you should be probably the best, yet the only option available.

"I'm... I'm Anna by the way..." she whispered shyly, or should I say still afraid and suspicious. You then offered her the most gentle smile you could give in response.

"You have such a beautiful name, Anna. I'm Y/n, and I'm so glad to meet you. Of course I would prefer to meet you in any other circumstances, but..." you needed to change the subject urgently: she was just a child, so she wouldn't get your sarcastic comment like others would. "What about we all get a delicious ice-cream once we get back home, huh? You, your family, me and... my... boyfriend." you hesitate a little bit, still hurt because of your boyfriend’s behavior in the last few weeks. Why was he taking so long to save us?

"Yummy, ice-cream!" she said excitedly, yet you could notice how tired she still was.

Tired of waiting, you finally decided to use the technique you had learned that previously had helped your hand's blood flow properly in your veins, by successfully untying the ropes out of her sore wrists. The poor kid's hands must be so badly hurt as well...

"Come here, sweetie." you untied the old ropes that were restraining your leg's movements in case someone came in unexpectadly, that way you could defend you both. You then helped her by untying her own ropes and when you did, you suddenly heard a gun shot.

Anna started to scream while covering her ears, and you instinctively pulled her near you to protect her from the horrors outside. Out of nowhere, the door was abruptly opened and the old lady came up being extremely stressed. Your first instinct was thinking that Loki had been shot by her, so all your courage and hope had vanished in a single second.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!!!" you shouted at her and ran in her direction to beat her up as hard as you could without fearing the consequences, when suddenly you felt a hard sting in your arm: she pricked you with a needle that contained a drug that causes a person to have a heart attack in the next few hours or even minutes, if they aren't correctly treated urgently.

"Goddammit!" you then felt extremely dizzy and fell to the ground. The last thing you saw before falling unconscious, was David entering the room and putting the evil woman on the ground, trying to arrest her with any gentle manners, before she managed to pull a gun from her pocket and shoot herself, and Anna's screams for your name... however, you were too nauseaus to distinguish if all of that was really happening, or if it was just a hopeful hallucination of yours.

---------------------------------------------------

"Y/N!! Please baby, don't you dare to die on me... please wake up... FUCK!" David was starting to be quickly consumed by pure despair, shaking you to no end, hoping you would open your eyes in his arms and return to him, safe and sound: he had finally found you and Anna after spending the worst week of his life, but even then he still couldn't feel utterly relieved. He then grabbed the two of you carefully, and drove you to the nearest hospital.

"Please Y/n, stay with me, do you hear me?! I will not let you leave me that easily... please honey..." he was talking more to himself since you couldn't respond, and his distressed tears were difficulting his vision and eventually his driving, which wasn't a good thing at all.

"Don't worry detective, she will be fine... your girlfriend is a really strong woman." the young girl tried to calm the desperate and protective boyfriend, just like you did with her a few minutes ago, and he couldn't help but feel so proud of you, yet guilty for being so focused on work lately, instead of giving you the attention you so dearly deserved from him...

---------------------------------------------------

Hours passed and you were still in the hospital, unconscious. Loki didn't know what to do to himself... he wanted to punch himself so hard for letting this happen to you. And if there was a possibility that you could switch roles, you would have been awake a long time ago.

This was his worst nightmare, to let his work interfere with your relationship in the worst way possible. He didn't want to leave your side for anything: even with the doctors insistence, he threatened to arrest them all if they didn't let him be with you until you woke up, and believe me when I say he was pretty convincing. His strong, tattooed arms were supporting his heavy, anxious and furious mind on top of his legs, they had been shaking for hours now, non-stop. He felt so, so guilty, and he didn't think he could ever forgive himself for almost losing the love of his life because of his negligence... and, on top of that, knowing that he was so distant and careless with you in your probable last days. Out of nowhere, he heard a muffled sound of pain, making him instantly look up at you and ran to your side. His heartbeat increased at a speed which he didn't think it was even possible for a single human being to handle without having a stroke right then and there.

"Honey..?" he called for you, his eyes inevitably watering for the hundredth time that night. You never saw him crying before, so it surprised you to see his eyes glistening. You struggled to keep your eyes opened, because of the strong light that illuminated your hospital room, but when your vision finally adjusted itself and you looked at him for the first time in the last few days, it was like you were seeing God himself.

"Is this heaven..?" you asked confused, making him laugh softly. Only you could rip a smile from him in such a bad situation like this one.

"No honey, this is pure reality. You are at the hospital, but I'm here with you now." he firmly grabbed your fragile and bruised hands into his much bigger ones, and looked at you like you were about to get married.

"Are you... crying?" you asked, feeling worried when you noticed, once again, his eyes being much brighter because of the fresh tears that wanted so badly to come out. He immediately wiped them away with the back of his hand, making you laugh. Your man never liked to show his emotions to anyone, not even to you. Well, at least he tried his best not to show them to you.

"Just got uh.. something inside my eye..." he tried to find a valid excuse, but since you knew him too well, he ended up giving up. He then offered you the most reassuring smile at you, only for you to gladly return it. However, his smile didn't last too long once he realized the severity of your state, it started disappearing slowly while his hands grabbed yours even harder this time, his eyes never leaving yours while analyzing your face so carefully.

"Oh God... what did I do to you..." this time, he wasn't able to contain himself, yet he didn't care anymore to show you how hurt he really was. It was too much guilt for just one man to carry on his shoulders and heart, no matter how strong he was.

"Don't." you immediately exclaimed and he looked at you curiously. "What happened was not your fault, do you understand me? It could happen to anyone."

"No! " he exclaimed. "If I was there with you instead of wear out my mind with this fucking case..."

"Baby, stop. It's your job and you saved that innocent girl. If it weren’t for you, she could have been dead by now." your tone was serious, and he understood that you were the only thing trying to make him not be so hard on himself.

"But..."

"No "but's", David. You are our savior. And I couldn't be prouder of you..." you smiled at him, yet he didn't return it. An intense exchange of emotional glares, and a thoughtful, tense silence was planted for a few, long seconds.

"If... if we weren't together, nothing would have happened to you... I prefer to know that you're safe and healthy with another man, than..." he didn't have sure on what he was saying, it was too much to process... but there was one thing he was sure of: he wouldn't allow anything bad happen to you from then on.

"Don't you dare saying that again, David Loki. You are the man who I love with my whole being, more than anything, and I would give my own life to save you if it was the case. And I don't care how many times I have to be abducted to prove how much I want to be with you for the rest of my life." you never spoke so seriously in your life, and you genuinely meant every word you just said. You just couldn't live without him anymore.

"What the hell did I do to deserve you..?" he carefully approached you, giving you a slow, yet most passionate kiss you had shared in a long time, while soflty grabbing your head between his cold hands. His lips were dry, yet tasted like sweet honey, like they always did.

"Detective Loki- oh, I'm so sorry!" Anna's mother entered the room, feeling ashamed for interrupting your romantic moment.

"No problem, Miss Dover. Do you need something from me?" he seriously asked, getting immediately into the hardworking Detective Loki character.

"Actually, I wanted to thank you for all you did to-"

"Y/n!!" Anna ran towards you as soon as her eyes landed on your weak body. She hugged you carefully, so she wouldn't hurt you, and you instantly felt you heart melting inside your chest.

"Heyy Anna! I'm so happy to see again, my bravest girl!" she offered you a toothy grin, and you were mesmerized by the change of energy that you only knew from her back in that horror house. Both of her mother and your charming boyfriend looked at your and the girl's interaction, not expecting for you to become so close to each other.

"Can we go eat an ice-cream now, like you promised?? I'm so hungry!" she asked excitedly, her eyes filled of hope and joyful.

"She needs to rest, sweetie. Maybe another time. Anyway, thank you so much, detective, for finding my daughter." he nodded to her and then she looked at you with a kind smile in her face. "And thank you for protecting my daughter from those monsters, Y/n. I'll be eternally grateful for the two of you. I hope you get better soon." she thanked the two of you, before leaving the room with her daughter, to give you two some privacy.

"Bye Y/n!" the girl happily said goodbye to you.

"Bye sweetheart, see you soon!" you responded back, seeing her leaving the room right after her mom.

"She really likes you." your boyfriend said to you, wanting to make you feel better since he knew how overwhelming you felt everytime someone thanked you.

"Yeah, I guess..." you laughed. "She kept me company in there, you know? We helped each other so we didn't feel so lonely anymore..." you looked at your fingers while shyly playing with them, hoping that he would understand your attempts of silently saying how hurt you were. You then felt him coming in your direction and sitting right beside you.

"Sweetheart... I'm so, so sorry for letting you feel like you were alone... I was so stressed about work, and I didn't want to discharge everything on you..." he truly seemed regretful of his actions, so of course you would forgive him since he was such a honest man. But you needed to let him know how hurt you felt by his lack of attention and affection with you. "I love you so much, honey... I... I can't imagine my life without you anymore. I would be so lost..." his voice sounded extremely weak at his final words, since he tried to hold back his cry once again.

"I love you too, baby. So, so much..." you caressed his barely shaved cheek and kissed him softly on the lips. When you broke the kiss so you could stare at him properly, you hugely smiled at him out of nowhere.

"What?" he smiled back.

"Nothing. I was just thinking that maybe..."

"Maybe what?" he seemed really curious about what you were about to say. You continued to look at him while bitting your lower lip softly, wanting to see and memorize his reaction by what you were about to suggest.

"Maybe... we could have a baby of our own?" you calmly and very carefully said, not wanting to scare him away. His reaction was expressless, which scared you a little bit.

"Babe, I don't know... what if... what if something happens to our child?" he already started to worry and get stressed.

"You will never live your life if you keep thinking about the worst, on what could happen or not. Think more about you and your happiness... think more about us. With a baby in our arms." this time, his smile expanded until a big toothy grin was revealed on his gorgeous face.

"You're absolutely right. We definitely should have our own princess." he lovely glared at you, kissing your hands with the most gentle kiss he could afford.

"Or prince... Who knows."

[ikeromantic]

Hero's Welcome

A Mitsuhide Akechi story, this scene occurs toward the end of Ch. 13 in the romantic route. Spoilers! Approx. 2500 words.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Delicious SFW/NSFW

As the walls of Azuchi drew closer, Mitsuhide felt a wave of relief. Of course, it was followed shortly by a new tension. He wasn’t sure if Nobunaga would grant him the right to marry his little one, or if he did, what the condition of that union might be. It was practical to make your first bride a political alliance - to give the place of privilege to a powerful family’s daughter. But Mitsuhide had no stomach for that.

He wanted just her.

The chatelaine didn’t seem to notice his reticence to return. In fact, she was practically bouncing on her toes in excitement. She kept walking faster, nearly running toward the city gate.

“There’s no reason to run, little mouse. Azuchi isn’t going anywhere.”

She stopped to turn and smile at him. “I’m just so glad to finally be home.”

Mitsuhide smiled and held out his hand. “Let’s go in together.”

Ranmaru and Hideyoshi were waiting for them.

Mitsuhide watched the cheerful page and wondered if Ranmaru knew that he knew . . . He would need to watch him even more carefully now. Kennyo knew his weakness and Ranmaru was perfectly positioned to take advantage of it.

Hideyoshi interrupted his train of thought with a restrained greeting. His eyes searched first the chatelaine and then Mitsuhide, looking for injuries. For signs of their struggle. “Welcome back,” he said.

“Happy to see us?” Mitsuhide’s thin smile turned his lips up at the corners.

“I am.”

The chatelaine hugged Ranmaru and then wrapped her arms around Hideyoshi. He awkwardly patted her head. “It’s good to see you.”

To Mitsuhide’s ear, his voice sounded strained, but the chatelaine didn’t seem to notice. She grinned up at him.

“I missed you! Both of you! Where is everyone else?”

Hideyoshi extracted himself from her embrace and nodded toward the castle. “Waiting for you both there. We weren’t sure you would make it back today.”

Ranmaru gave a sly smile. “Hideyoshi has been at the gates every day since we received word that the shogun has . . . decided to go into seclusion.”

“I haven’t,” Hideyoshi sputtered.

Mitsuhide shook his head. Hideyoshi was a terrible liar. “We best not keep the others waiting. Come, little one.”

The chatelaine took his hand again. Ranmaru and Hideyoshi led them back.

As they walked through the city, Mitsuhide took note of the mood there. People seemed largely unaware of the conflict, though he noted few merchants from outer provinces. Likely the result of the false conflict with Echigo. A small price to pay, considering the alternatives.

The shadow of Azuchi’s tenshu fell across Mitsuhide’s face as they drew up to the gates. Apropo, he thought, and squeezed his beloved’s hand. She would be his light in any shadow, even this one that came of his own choice.

Surprisingly, the other members of the Oda alliance were all there in the courtyard. Seeing them, his little mouse broke into a run. He could have let go of her hand, followed her in, but he never wanted to release her. Instead, he ran with her. He could tell this amused Nobunaga by the rise of his brows.

Ieyasu actually grinned. “Mitsuhide is actually running somewhere instead of slowly sauntering. I’ve seen everything now.”

Masamune waggled his eyebrows. Never one for subtlety, he said in a loud voice, “That was one hell of a sight!”

Mitsunari nodded, his angelic face lit by a sweet smile. “I understand them completely. I am so excited they are back.”

Ieyasu rolled his eyes and sighed.

Mitsuhide seconded that. “Have things been so empty in my absence that you all have an excess of free time to stand around in the courtyard?”

Hideyoshi frowned. “Free time? Do you have any idea how much time and energy we spent worrying about you both? You sent few enough messages and what you did send - “

“Ah, it’s been so long I almost forgot what one of your lectures felt like. Please. Do continue.”

The chatelaine giggled, Masamune snorted a laugh, and even Ieyasu cracked a small smile.

“Oh, I will,” Hideyoshi’s face flushed.

Before he could get up steam to really lay into Mitsuhide, Mitsunari came to the rescue. He laid a hand on Hideyoshi’s arm. “We really should get them both inside. They look tired and in need of refreshment. Should I prepare some tea?”

This was sufficient threat to unite the two men. “No,” both said in tandem.

Masamune took the chatelaine’s arm. “I’ve prepared some welcome home treats just for you.”

Mitsuhide might have intervened if Nobunaga had not taken that moment to speak. “Mitsuhide, and my chatelaine. You’ve returned.”

The two of them bowed, and brought Masamune with them as he hadn’t released the chatelaine just yet.

“We have, my lord.” Mitsuhide held his bow. Officially, he was disgraced and this was his crawl back to service. He had to play the part, much as it grated.

“You have done well, Mitsuhide.” Nobunaga’s voice was loud enough that the passing servants and guards would hear. A signal that the wayward kitsune was welcomed back with open arms.

Mitsuhide and his little mouse straightened. It was the welcome he’d hoped for, but hadn’t expected. Nobunaga could have left him in limbo - an uncertain status with conditional forgiveness. Of course, even with this pronouncement, Mitsuhide intended to stay at the fringes of the alliance. It was necessary.

Nobunaga then beckoned the chatelaine.

She let go of Mitsuhide’s arm. The absence of her made him feel unbalanced. He made as if to follow, but Hideyoshi and Masamune intercepted him.

“So?” Masamune’s one blue eye searched Mitsuhide’s face.

Hideyoshi’s jaw tightened. “She looks bruised. What happened?”

Mitsuhide gave them both his crescent moon smile. “The little mouse is a brave one. Now, if you don’t mind . . .”

“As it happens, I do. I have many questions about how this assignment wrapped up.” Hideyoshi’s expression was guarded. There was a wealth of brotherhood held tight behind walls of distrust and betrayal. He wasn’t ready to welcome the kitsune back with open arms.

“There’s no rush to report, Hideyoshi. I don’t plan on hiding or running from you.” Mitsuhide softened his smile. “Can we not celebrate our return first? Then I can provide an answer to all your questions. All together.”

Hideyoshi’s frown relented. “That would be a change.”

Masamune laughed as Mitsuhide nodded in agreement.

Though he would never admit it aloud, it felt good to be among friends. People who had shown time and again that they valued him. It hurt too. To know that his duty required their betrayal and may yet again.

Hideyoshi gestured to Ranmaru. “Make sure he doesn’t escape. I need to prepare a war council. Right now.”

Nobunaga and the chatelaine turned to look.

Ranmaru gave her a little bow. “I’m sorry my lady. I need to borrow Lord Mitsuhide for a bit. I promise to give him back.” His laugh was mischevious, high and false.

Nobunaga took the chatelaine’s hands. “We will speak again soon. I must attend to this.”

Mitsuhide waived to her, hoping to ease her sudden, worried look. “Why don’t you go rest now? I’ll be along soon.” He exchanged a look with Ieyasu, who thankfully understood what was needed.

She nodded, though she didn’t look happy about it.

“Mitsunari and I will walk you back to your rooms.” The young warlord took her arm gently.

Mitsunari was quick to follow. “Oh yes! Let’s walk together. You can tell me about your trip.” He smiled cheerily, as if oblivious to the tension.

Masamune looked between the chatelaine and Mitsuhide. “Think I’ll walk aways with the lass as well.”

“Good.” Nobunaga nodded. “You three can explain the current situation to her.”

When they disappeared into the castle grounds, Mitsuhide allowed Ranmaru to lead him to the council chamber. Nobunaga sat down at the head and Hideyoshi followed after.

“Ranmaru, bring us tea.”

The page bowed and left, casting a side-eyed glance at Mitsuhide once he did.

When only the three of them were left, Nobunaga spoke. “Your solution to the problem is novel, but carries with it some risk. There are still those that knew Yoshiaki personally.”

“Novel?” Hideyoshi sputtered. “All he did was delay the problem! When the emperor’s court learns what he’s done they’ll -”

“They won’t. The shogun will announce an interest in Buddhism and his need for solitude. This will keep most away. For the others . . . Kyubei and I will be there to guide him. I plan to keep an assistant at his side at all times.” Mitsuhide smiled. “And if it is discovered then, what says I had anything to do with it? Yoshiaki and I parted on amicable terms . . . if his scribe murders him in secret, it has nothing to do with me.”

Nobunaga thought about this in silence.

“You’re very sure of yourself.” Hideyoshi’s brows were drawn down, his face hard. “What happens if you’re wrong?”

“Then I will deal with whatever comes. Have I not done so, as long as you have known me?”

Hideyoshi gave a reluctant nod. “And the chatelaine? Why did you drag her into it? She was supposed to stay in Kyoto.” His voice rose on this question, stained with anger.

“I did leave her in Kyoto,” Mitsuhide sighed. “Yoshiaki went after her.”

Nobunaga’s face was impassive as he waited for additional explanation.

“His ninja kidnapped her and took her to the daimyo’s estate, bypassing our siege. He injured her,” Mitsuhide admitted. “But once in the estate, Kyubei was able to-”

“You couldn’t protect her from your enemies.” Hideyoshi’s voice was heavy with held emotion. “She was hurt because of you. She still has the bruises on her face, and who knows what other injuries! You - you-”

“Enough, Hideyoshi.” Nobunaga’s voice cracked like a whip. “The chatelaine was ordered to accompany him. She was hurt doing her duty. This fault does not lie on Akechi.”

Hideyoshi clamped his mouth shut, clearly not satisfied but unwilling to speak against Nobunaga.

“Yes, that is correct,” Mitsuhide inclined his head. “Even when our plans changed and she was captured, she performed admirably. Acting as both spy and distraction. I have a written report from Kyubei detailing their efforts, as well as some notes I took afterward.”

Nobunaga smiled. “So you come back to me having accomplished an impossible task. Yet I cannot publicly embrace you. Traitor twice over, and spy . . . what plan do you have now?”

Mitsuhide knew this was where things would get difficult. He faced it as he did most struggles. By smiling widely, his golden eyes like opaque windows giving nothing away. “I plan to be banished to my lands for a time, sent away with a bride to bind me to the Oda forces.”

Nobunaga’s eyebrows rose. Hideyoshi leapt to his feet.

“You can’t think-”

Ranmaru entered with the tea tray. “My lords?” He took in Mitsuhide’s smile and Hideyoshi’s posture. “I’ll just set this here.” He put the tray on the table, bowed, and left the room.

“Did you have a bride in mind,” Nobunaga asked after they were alone again. His gaze held a knowing light.

“I do.”

“You don’t get to betray us and then waltz back in, and, and, walk out with - she already - “ Hideyoshi didn’t seem to be able to finish his train of thought.

“Nobunaga Oda, my lord. I would humbly request permission to marry a princess in your keeping. You have already given your consent to our betrothal. I would take her into my family now.” Mitsuhide bowed low and held the position, waiting.

Hideyoshi, however, wasn’t going to let this moment pass. “No! My lord, you can’t really think that betrothal was serious! She’s half afraid of him! And - and just look at the state of her. She came back hurt. Because of him, his enemies - and it’s not the first time. He would drag her down with him. She deserves . . .”

“You?” Nobunaga’s voice was gentle, the question clear.

“My lord. I would keep her safe.” Hideyoshi bowed beside Mitsuhide.

“I am of a mind to let the fireball decide,” Nobunaga replied. “If I told her who she was going to marry, she’d likely refuse out of stubbornness.” He grinned. “She may not want either one of you.”

It was not the response Mitsuhide had hoped for. Not that he thought his little mouse would choose another - but he’d hoped Nobunaga would grant him this right clearly. Still, he rose and nodded. “As you will, my lord.”

Hideyoshi shot him a triumphant look. He clearly believed he’d be able to sway the girl. Which only proved he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did.

Masamune, Ieyasu, and Mitsunari filed in and sat down.

“Did we miss anything,” the one-eyed dragon asked. His smile said he knew more than he was letting on.

Nobunaga shrugged. “Mitsuhide asked for leave to marry the chatelaine. I’ve told him she will pick her husband.”

Mitsunari smiled brightly. “That’s very kind of you, my lord. I’m sure she’ll choose wisely.”

“I doubt it,” Ieyasu muttered.

Masamune laughed.

“Now, there are more important things to discuss.” Nobunaga’s lips thinned line. “Echigo is still a problem. And we know the Mouri have something planned. What is more, Kennyo still seeks me for revenge. We cannot rest yet. Mitsuhide, what is the rest of your report.”

It took hours to discuss what he’d learned of the Mouri and the remnants of the Ikko Ikki. Plus Masamune and Hideyoshi both had reports on Echigo and the false conflict they’d staged. By the time the discussion ended, it was well past dark.

Crickets chirped and the trees whispered in a cool, night breeze. Overhead, the stars shone like gems. Mitsuhide found himself appreciating all of it, even as he hurried out. He went to the chatelaine’s quarters to find her, but her rooms were empty. It barely looked like she’d been there.

He knew where she would be, if not there, and he smiled. His steps were light as he approached his estate. Kyubei met him at the entrance.

“My lord. She waits for you in your room.”

“Bold little mouse, isn’t she?”

Kyubei smiled and ran a hand over his short hair. “She is. Last I checked on her, she was reading as she waited, though she looks in need of rest.”

“That sounds like her.” Mitsuhide left Kyubei and continued to his room.

He slid the door open gently and stepped inside. The room was spotless, much as it had been when he was imprisoned. And there at his desk, sat his little mouse. A book was open in front of her, though her eyes were shut tight. Her head lay on the desk, cushioned by her arm. She looked so sweet, so innocent, that for a moment, Mitsuhide’s chest hurt.

His footsteps were almost silent as he crossed the room. His fingertips brushed gently down her hair and the sweep of her neck. “No matter how many times I see your sleeping face, I find it hard to look away.”

Mitsuhide shrugged out of his haori and laid it over her shoulders to keep her warm. Then he set up the bed. He kept expecting her to wake, but she didn’t stir. When the futon was ready, he carefully lifted her up. Cradled against his chest like this, he felt reluctant to set her down. Only knowing she’d be in his arms all night made the choice easier.

When he lay down, she turned her face to her chest and curled tight against him. Mitsuhide put his arm around her and closed his eyes. This was a true welcome home, he thought. Wherever she was, would be home to him.

Next: Loyalties

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “The Final Word”

Well, we made it to the finale, everyone, and if you're reading this it seems you've survived the watching of it too. Barely. To say that some questionable choices were made across these 20 minutes is... an understatement.

But before we delve into the episode, I want you to cast your mind back to November 7th, 2020. A horrible year that heralded a horrible RWBY volume. There, coming off the shaky writing of Volume 7, I posed a number of questions and concerns that the show needed to tackle, with the promise that we would return to these expectations in four months time. Now, here we are! Let's refresh everyone's memory, yeah?

Taken directly from that recap, what RWBY promised us, through various teasers and Q&As, included:

Emphasis on Ruby’s leadership and how Summer’s death has impacted her

Insight into Ren and Nora’s flaws

May Merigold will supposedly have a larger part

More information about The Long Memory (Ozpin’s cane)

Theme of the volume is that you can respect someone but that doesn’t necessarily mean you agree with them

Very short timeline (supposedly just two days)

Yang in particular is very suspicious and distrustful

And you know what? They did all this. In the spirit of being fair and honest to this show, RWBY succeeded in delivering on everything they promised... it was just our foolishness that expected that these ideas would be delivered well. Ruby's leadership took center stage in the form of her hiding for multiple episodes and then others telling her she's still The Best before the plot dropped a solution into her lap... one she could have used at any point prior to this. Summer's death certainly has an impact, though it's an impact born of a crazy reveal that Summer likely isn't dead, but turned into a horrifying grimm monster. Ren and Nora both delve into their flaws, but heaven forbid either grow from that reflection. Ren learns that if he pushes past his primary flaw of keeping his emotions buried and actually expresses his doubts for once, he'll be yelled at and ignored until he admits how wrong he was. The "real" flaw is being a bad friend, with "bad friend" equaling "Not agreeing with Ruby 100%." Meanwhile, Nora considers that maybe she shouldn't rush in recklessly and hit things with her hammer... which is why she rushes in recklessly, hits something with her hammer, gets grievously injured, and is told that this is just who she truly is. No growth there, not unless we count her sudden desire to figure out who she is without Ren... but that exploration hasn't started yet. Too bad she wasn't the teammate separated at the end of the volume!

Meanwhile, May did indeed have a larger role to play, one I quite liked, it's just that this role — like all the others — inevitably circled back to realizing how wonderful Ruby is. May challenges Ruby to make a decision, but instead of being the catalyst for Ruby's growth, May becomes another forgotten side character who does a sudden about-turn regarding her perspective, leaving the group with the contradictory message that Ruby is actually doing her best, she's just a kid, no need to try any harder... everyone who claimed otherwise up until now was mistaken. May is another Cordovin. She's another Qrow. She's another Maria.

Fun fact: we don't even know if Maria is alive right now. That's how little she means to the show!

Actually, wait... anyone remember this nonsense from Volume 7? 

I was too lazy to change the date.

Moving on, Ozpin's cane turned out to be a stakes obliterating bomb that came out of nowhere, makes no sense logistically — how do battles store energy that only hurts grimm? — yet nevertheless seems to have killed Hazel? It's a disaster of unanswered questions. Similar to the disaster of our two day timeline when, I'm fairly sure, we've had an unnatural number of sunrises and sunsets. I'll have to take a look back at the volume as a whole now that it's complete to be sure of that though. As for our themes... did we really explore the idea of respecting someone even if you disagree with them? Because Ironwood wasn't shown any respect. Ren wasn't shown respect. I think the closest we got was Oscar calmly validating Yang's worry about getting buddy-buddy with Emerald, but the whole point there was that Yang was wrong. She wasn't wrong, but that's what the text would have you believe. She is indeed "very suspicious and distrustful," but that's hardly unjustified in these circumstances. I'm still boggling at the fact that it took the group three volumes for forgive Ozpin, even while he was actively working to assist them, yet I-helped-destroy-Beacon-and-tried-to-kill-everyone-you-love Emerald is the group's new BFF after she... ran away with Oscar? She didn't save him, she just went along for the ride. At the very least we might have gotten a scene where Penny was like, "Hey, why are you all laughing with the woman who just tried to kill my dad?"

But oh yeah, the story doesn't remember Pietro exists either. His daughter is DEAD and he hasn't been on screen since Episode Five, let alone there when she passes.

I had my own list going in, including such expectations as "Ozpin bb you got done dirty please acknowledge this" and "Queer baiting, queer baiting… you’re on thin ice at this point, RWBY. Just skate on over to the queer snack bar before you fall straight into the lake." Obviously these needs were not met.

So what, given this mess of expectations, did we end up with?

Our finale — for some reason — breaks the one word title trend with "The Final Word." It's an expression that refers to the final word in an argument or a discussion, the idea of winning by making a last, devastating point. It can also refer to making the final decision on something, which is the best way I'm able to apply the title to this episode (outside of any “final” comparisons). Penny's death is certainly all about choice and making some kind of decision... but on the whole, this title doesn't feel like it fits well. Not like "Worthy" or "Creation" or "Risk." The two latter titles had obvious connections to the episode in question through dialogue and plot, while the former was a deliberate callback to Watts' speech. "The Final Word" feels... less obvious in what it’s trying to say.

That's a minor nitpick though. Let's get into the meat of the episode.

We open on the grimm whale still disappearing, which is weird. I get that it's massively bigger than any other grimm we've seen, but they all turned to dust near instantaneously and it's been, what? At least an hour since Oscar blew it up? Likely longer when we factor in their walk back to the manor, the fight with Ironwood, fixing Penny, and this entire evacuation. It certainly makes for a nice visual, but like so many details in RWBY, it raises unnecessary questions along the way.

The important bit though is that amidst the whale carcass a blob of evil is swirling about. Salem, obviously. 

She’s not reforming in time to actually do anything though, don't worry.

Instead, we cut to the Ironwood vs. Winter fight and there's at least some dialogue this time. Ironwood yells that he's sacrificed everything to keep Remnant safe. Winter yells back that he actually sacrificed everyone else. Obviously, Ironwood should be called out for things like, you know, his unprompted murders, but instead they have Winter listing stuff that she was never shown to have a problem with before. The embargo? "Squeezed Mantle until it broke?" She, as Ironwood's second hand, understood and supported both the decision to close the border and the need to collect resources for a plan designed to take out Salem. I hate that no only did she turn without an ounce of hesitation or grief, but now they're having her act as if Ironwood forced these decisions on everyone, rather than everyone supporting him through them. We all remember Volume 7 when Ruby pressured him to finish Amity, right? And in trust RWBY fashion, most of these words are meaningless. Mantle "broke"? What does that mean? The class disparity did not come about through Ironwood: that's been in the works for generations. The lack of resources made things harder, yes, but when they were reclaimed by Robyn nothing improved. Watts is the one who turned off the heat and Salem attacked Atlas, leaving Mantle alone. Now, all the citizens have escaped through magical portals. So how is Mantle "broken" exactly? More importantly, why is Winter upset over this vague, nonsensical dilemma when she could be yelling about Ironwood wanting to bomb Mantle?

Again: this woman watched Ironwood shoot the councilman, shrugged, and continued to believe in him up until she realized his bomb threat was real. That was one of the main reasons why I thought the councilman might be alive, with Ironwood only shooting a warning shot past him. Because this is how you react to a good person unexpectedly killing someone else

whereas this is what we got from Winter and Harriet.

Hell, Weiss has more of a reaction to Yang telling Ruby things aren't super great right now.

So either Ironwood didn't do something that bad, thereby justifying these tame reactions (unlikely, given where his character ended up), or we should believe based on the animation that everyone was super chill with him killing an unarmed civilian. Which is then directly contradicted when they're like, "You're going to shoot Marrow? Bomb a city?? How could you do such horrible things??? 😲" Friends, buddies, fictional pals... you already watched him murder a dude.

The point is, there's a lot for Winter to be upset about, but she's not upset about that. There's a lot that Winter herself believed in, but the writing has forgotten that. This entire arc went off the rails a volume ago.

Also, why is Ironwood fighting with that giant gun? This is his final battle, presumably ever, and he's wielding this awkward, sluggish weapon we saw him randomly pick up two episodes ago? Let him use his regular guns! Give us a fantastic battle like he had with Watts! Instead, RWBY's final showdown consists of him using this no-name weapon as a unwieldy club in some of the most boring choreography we've seen to date. It doesn't help that this fight needs to share time with three others. Instead of an epic showdown, we're given glimpses of the battle before continually cutting away from it. 

During that first cut we return to the Team RWBY battle where Penny, doing her best to stay out of Cinder's reach, is whisked away on Weiss' wasp.

Too bad she didn't do that for Yang...

Jaune and Nora watch this horror unfold until Jaune says, "Priority one!" and they split. Except... what is priority one exactly? Helping the civilians? I guess, because they don't enter the fight until the very end of it, when everyone else seems to have made it to Vacuo. And you know what, I like that. For once it feels like the group — or at least the B Team — is acting like huntsmen, putting the needs of the people over their own, personal desires. I'm sure Nora wants to help the group after Yang's (presumed) demise and that Jaune would like nothing more than to get his hands on Cinder, but they put those grievances aside to do the work they signed up for. Good job!

My only real gripe is that we don't really see this struggling in the animation, I'm just assuming it's there. In particular, there's a moment when Jaune sends Nora through the portal for reinforcements — not knowing they can't return — and they seem a little too jovial when, by this point, three friends have died.

There's letting your cast be supportive, and then there's having them ignore that three teammates have perished in an abyss. It really doesn't help to sell the idea that Yang, Ruby, and Blake are in any danger here.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Penny tells Weiss that since Cinder is really just after the Maiden powers, she can buy the rest of the group time to escape. Weiss, obviously, isn't fond of this idea... and then the both of them are blasted off the wasp by Cinder's fire. Which they deserve, frankly. They're just having this casual conversation about sacrifice while in the middle of a battle. Did they somehow forget that Cinder can fly too?

Note that multiple attacks from Cinder, another blast, and a hard landing on the pathway gives their auras a knock, but doesn't break them. The primary defense for Yang's aura shattering in a single, simple hit was that everyone is exhausted and running on little to no power... yet here the rest of the cast is, tanking multiple hits as we've come to expect. There is no explanation for Yang's defeat except that the writers chose to ignore the rules of their world for a dramatic death scene... even though that drama was erased a week later as half our team falls into the void too.

We'll get to that though. For now, Cinder corrects Penny's belief with "I want it all" and proceeds to try to finish them off, only for Blake to arrive, having made her choice from last episode about who to help. It's a legitimately nice attack, but I happened to pause at the bEST MOMENT

Anyway.

We leave that fight to return to Qrow and Harriet who have, off screen, started an entirely different battle. What I mean is, last we saw Qrow had broken through the windshield of the airship, roughly pinned Harriet, and was taunting her about getting the fight she wanted. Now, suddenly, he's going “You’re making a mistake, Harriet, what happened to Clover—” as if he's been trying to talk her down this whole time. It's jarring, especially when we consider that Qrow had a volume long "kill Ironwood" arc that was dropped because... Robyn reminded him that murder is bad? RWBY feels like a storytelling pinball machine. Characters bounce from one personality to the next, one perspective and another, round and round until you don't know where they'll end up.

Harriet screams for Qrow to just shut up already and honestly? Same. I love Qrow, he's one of my favorites, but I can't deny that he's been done dirty like so many others since Volume 6. I love who Qrow was, not the mess RWBY has created the last few years.

Time to delve back into fic after recapping!

Sadly though, this strange dialogue wasn't the only "wtf" moment. Harriet is still trying to drop the bomb — which is its own mess of confusing motivations — when Vine and Elm show up on Harriet's ship. Elm begs Harriet not to do this "because you’re our friend!”

Am I glad that they finally acknowledged that the Ace Ops have always been friends? Sure, but why did we spend two volumes claiming otherwise? They were friends, a fantastic team, then Harriet announces that's a lie and we get a bunch of "Team RWBY is superior because they're actually friends" messages. Except this entire time we're still watching the Ace Ops be kind and playful with one another. But they're not friends, the story says. Not friends as they fight these battles. Not friends as they grieve for Clover. Definitely not friends as they react in horror at Ironwood nearly shooting Marrow. No, there's nothing there... until Elm claims there is! Then Harriet reacts in shock. I have friends?

Except Elm was labeled the one "just following orders" by Yang. Elm is the one who shook off Vine after the whale exploded. This isn't the story of one character, Harriet, thinking she was alone and then realizing that people do care for her, this is a story that, seemingly at random, had this group being BFFs or acting like they hated each other — and at each point the visuals are contradicted by the story's message. When they act like friends, we're told they're not friends. When they don't act like friends, we're told they really have been this whole time. I mean, do any of them even care that Marrow teamed up with Qrow and Robyn to take them out five minutes ago? All three were going along with Ironwood's scheme until they were physically stopped, but now Elm is convinced this is a bad decision she needs to talk Harriet down from with the power of friendship?

None of these characters are characters, they're just slapped together reactions based on whatever the plot needs. Who is Elm? I've got no clue. Her personality changes every episode.

Also, love that Qrow moves to stop the bomb from dropping and Harriet screams at him to "Get out of the way!" rather than just... attacking him? She even throws her hands out like she's having a temper tantrum. This feels like schoolyard bickering, not a life or death struggle.

Even though, you know, the audience is aware that the people of Mantle have already been evacuated and Qrow's group is aware that Atlas is falling on top of Mantle as they speak, so... why does the bomb matter? It's going to, what? Destroy the city thirty seconds before Atlas does? Oh no, the horror.

Things then, if you can believe it, get even worse. The bomb is still about to drop, so instead of doing anything to stop it — I mean seriously, we know it takes four people to shoulder the bomb's weight, but you're telling me Qrow and a reformed Harriet can't snag it in a pinch? — Qrow sits there, looks at Clover's pin... and the bomb careens towards the side of the airship instead, stopping.

Because I guess Qrow has good luck now? Or always did and somehow never noticed it? Or his semblance evolved?? Again, we don't know, but it's a bad moment any way you slice it, imo. Qrow has always been defined as the guy with a bad luck semblance and, much like Penny's android struggles, the allure was in watching him overcome those challenges, not having the show erase the challenge entirely. Especially when we don't even understand how it was erased. Qrow just... stops drinking, stops caring for Ironwood, stops wanting to kill Ironwood, stops causing bad luck, I guess. RWBY takes major character traits and flips them off like a light switch, leaving the audience with no emotional tether. We didn't watch Qrow overcome his drinking, or realize he can't bear to kill Ironwood, or discover a way to live life with the horrible hand he was dealt, he just blinks one day and those things are gone. Why? No one is sure. Not even the writers, I'd wager, because otherwise they would have written explanations into the text.

Many in the fandom insist that any basic information provided by the story amounts to "hand holding" when in fact there is a massive difference between the sort of unnecessary exposition that bogs down a tale, and having facts enough for the audience in its entirety to be on the same page about what is actually happening. For example, recently someone argued strongly that the "Penny is human" take is incorrect because Penny isn't human, she has an inhuman body made entirely of aura... yet where in the world does this exist in the story? Ambrosius may have been unsure about what Penny would be prior to removing her robotic parts, but that ambiguity is gone once her body forms, the equivalent of worrying about that gun only for a flag with 'BANG' to appear instead of a bullet. Worrying about something doesn't mean that something actually occurred. Penny appears human, expresses human sentiments, and then, this episode, dies as a human. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck and succumbs to the mortal peril that all ducks face... it's probably a duck. As I said in a recent ask, I implore the fandom to stop writing RWBY's scripts for them. Or rather, do so in some amazing fanfics. Don't do it on critical posts as a means of insisting that your revision is canon.

So Qrow has good luck now, maybe, but this character change doesn't amount to anything because Watts remotely starts the bomb's countdown.

At least he’s entertaining and competent. We had that for a time. 

Back to the main battle, Neo is kicking Ruby's ass. Why? Because there's no consistency in power levels in this show. The ancient woman who hasn't fought in decades dances circles around Neo, highlighting how weak she supposedly is, yet now Neo dances circles around our main character. None of us should expect fights to follow the logic of the world, only what drama the plot wants to stir up. Ruby is eventually knocked down from a hard hit — yet her aura's intact! — and is saved at the last second by Weiss tossing Neo into one of the portals. 

Far more of a problem than the power leveling is that Ruby gives no indication here that Neo just murdered her sister. Again, that's what the characters are meant to believe, yet Ruby is as stoic as she would be fighting a bunch of White Fang grunts. If you showed this scene to a RWBY fan on its own and asked, "What do you think happened prior to this?" the answer would be, "Uh... nothing? Ruby is just fighting Neo like she did on the airship in Volume 3." Nothing about this scene — from dialogue to animation — sells the idea that Ruby just lost the person most important to her in the world.

When we do finally mention Yang, it's Weiss who goes, “Come on, we have to do this for Yang” and the delivery is... meh. Honestly, I normally don't pay much attention to the voice acting, but I had a problem with most of Weiss' lines this episode. The "Leave her alone!" during this fight and later a "Get back!" as she attacks Cinder both fell really flat for me. Given the devastation and charged emotion that's supposed to be here, we can't give her anything better than generic cries that, again, she’d throw at any grunt? In that later scene the animation absolutely helps sell Weiss' distress, but the dialogue is common and the delivery has no emotional punch, leaving it feeling like Yang is just hanging out in Vacuo and they promised they'd beat the baddies before catching up with her. No one but Blake is acting like Yang died.

In fact, we see more emotion from Ruby when Weiss shoves her back, taking the brunt of Cinder's blast.

Weiss' aura breaks, not that that's a danger or anything. Everyone falls before they're injured, Winter gets the Maiden powers, Ren barely has to fight. Losing aura in this show used to be a moment of peril, where just last volume Winter was bruised, bleeding, and now needs an assistive device because she had to continue a battle with no aura. Now it's a joke. Aura breaks left and right across the volume with no repercussions attached to that.

We see a bit of the Blake and Penny vs. Cinder fight where Cinder blasts Blake off the edge. Penny rushes after her because at least one character remembered that they can fly.

Ruby, meanwhile, remembers that she can fly when it benefits her. After getting hit down onto a lower level and watching Crescent Rose plummet, she taunts Neo into an attack with a move that's actually quite good. I like the confidence with which Ruby riles her up and I like the strategy of darting behind Neo to knock her off the path instead. “Whatever you wanted, I hope it was worth it."

The only thing I don't like is that this speed and ingenuity had to disappear to justify Yang falling.

Cinder breaks Ruby's aura from behind though, sending her over too and grabbing onto Neo's leg. In an obvious moment born of the trope, it looks as if Cinder is reaching to help Neo, only for her to snag the Relic instead. “You should have never threatened me," she tells Neo and to Ruby: "you should have never been born.” 

Love that they erased all that cool growth from last episode! And by "love" I mean "hate." As I said last recap, I'm not going to pretend that Cinder's character isn't riddled with problems, but realizing she was stronger by teaming up with Neo and Watts was one of the best things they've ever done for her. It made Cinder dangerous again and showed Watts' speech having a clear impact. It also made her more entertaining, creating a new dynamic among the three villains. Now though, Cinder is just... Cinder. The same boring, stupid Cinder we've had since Volume 4. She betrays Neo and then later betrays Watts.

So Cinder kicks Neo and Ruby both over the edge because why would we want to make her interesting? Neo falls, but Ruby has friends there to catch her! Unlike Yang. Jk. Weiss’ aura is gone and Blake actually tried both times, so major kudos for her. Using momentum supplied by Penny, she snags Ruby and hooks her weapon into one of the pathways... only for Cinder to cut the ribbon. Both plummet and once again Penny has a more believable reaction to all this, just like she did last week

Speaking of reactions, does anyone else find it weird that Cinder finally succeeded in killing Ruby and... doesn’t seem to care? 

No? Just me? 

At least we get that good animation with Weiss I was talking about before, even if the dialogue is lacking. I love that she snagged Blake's weapon and uses it to try and take out Cinder, shaking the whole time. Those are some great details. 

Back to the bomb, Qrow is trying to escape, but Harriet says there isn't enough time to get out of the blast range. "I've killed us all." Vine has the solution though, using his semblance to wrap up the airship, thus containing the blast when it goes off. His final words are to reassure Elm that he can give his life, "if it means saving all of my friends." Just in case you missed the part about the Ace Ops being super close this whole time. Even though they also weren’t. Trying to eat your cake too, RWBY? 

Frankly, I didn't feel much of anything during this scene, not when Vine made the sacrifice, nor when Elm and Harriet look on sadly while Robyn pilots them away (that's her contribution this episode). 

All I can say is, good on RWBY for not killing one of the three dark skinned characters, or just murdering the Ace Ops as a whole. What the story is going to do with them though, who knows.

Jaune and Nora have that ‘You can do it!’ moment after three of their friends have presumably been killed. I swear, about 80% of Jaune's scenes do not work tonally and oh boy, things only get worse from here.

First though, I like his entrance. He slams into the fight against Cinder and lines up with Penny and Weiss, who is still dual-wielding her and Blake's weapons. That's an epic shot.  

It looks as if they stand a decent chance against Cinder — Weiss' lost aura notwithstanding — except then Cinder's arm starts going crazy and she gleefully announces that Salem has returned.

Working on a time limit now, Cinder unleashes a volley of attacks that Penny steps in to protect the other two from. It's here that Cinder grabs hold with her grimm arm.

It's here that Penny dies. Again.

For the third time.

Friends, I am tired. This moment honestly deserves the most epic of rants, but that, in turn, requires energy. Energy? In this economy? Ha! That's hilarious. Taking this seriously though, the problem here can — as usual — be boiled down to a single question: What was the point?

Penny died in a horrible attack that shook the cast and audience both to their core.

That emotional impact was erased through her resurrection.

The resurrection did not create a new emotional impact for our heroes to grapple with.

Penny is given the Maiden powers, solidifying the fact that she's always been a "real girl."

That lesson was erased when the story decided to make her human for unexplained reasons (because no, she never needed to be human to survive the virus).

Penny then dies, passing the power to Winter... who was set to get the power in the first place.

We have, once again, come full circle. You can take Penny out of the story and nothing changes. Does Ruby lose any lessons or emotional growth? No. Does anyone survive who would have otherwise died? No. Does her getting the powers lead to someone unexpected snagging them upon her death? No. Penny's existence was filler. She was put in the story to take up time and, that done, was removed from the story once again. It's a choice that wouldn't be half as horrible if that filler hadn't done so much damage along the way.

First is the obvious: that Penny didn't deserve this. As a character, she didn't deserve to be brought back just to be killed off again, seemingly without narrative purpose, serving only to draw in viewers who RT knew loved the character. Second, keeping her in the story led to her entire arc unraveling. Initially, Penny died as an android in the world's eyes, but those who actually knew her — Ruby and Pietro — mourned the girl she really was. Now we have this horrible message that being a machine isn't real enough, so she has to die as a human being. It's a disservice to her character and, as an allegory for many minorities, downright insulting to the audience. Third, this offensive 'better to die as a human than live as a robot' message is wrapped up in the claim that Penny finally gets to choose something — “Let me choose this one thing. Trust me” — but she already did that when she chose to take the Maiden powers. We already had the better written version of this last volume!

And the fourth issue...well.  

Fourth and fifth are the real kickers. Fourth is that Penny's death was an assisted suicide. She explicitly asks Jaune to kill her so she can ensure she's thinking of the right person when she passes (never mind that her thoughts would probably be on Jaune while this is happening) and that's... pretty horrible. Look, I'm no purist. I like a great deal of dark, gritty stories whose plot exists to make us uncomfortable. That's a valuable emotion that fiction can generate. The problem is not that RWBY is tackling a sensitive topic, but that they aren’t tackling it well. Yes, they put in a content warning and (from what I've heard) a suicide helpline as well, but providing the already necessary resources is not the same thing as writing that kind of scene with respect and care. All of the above tells us that, no matter what RT may have intended, that respect and care weren't communicated to the audience. Like Yang, they didn't even bother to keep Penny's death within the rules of their world. Jaune is right there ready to heal her and Penny says no, there's supposedly not time.

Um... since when?

Jaune's aura boost is instantaneous. The second he amplifies aura is the same second the healing starts and their talk could have been spent saving Penny. There was certainly time to save Weiss in Volume 5. To have a character go, 'Nah, it's too late' when the solution is right there is the ultimate cop-out. Suddenly announcing that the solution will no longer work For Reasons is not a legitimate limitation and it's made doubly insulting that RT didn't simply use the limitations already available to them. Jaune has been running low on aura since the whale. He then expended a great deal of aura boosting Penny to keep the virus in check. Every other ally has had their aura broken in this fight so, there. That's your solution. Have Jaune take a few hard hits from Cinder, his aura breaks, and then when Penny is mortally wounded he no longer has a semblance to heal her. It's that easy! Yet instead they had Penny reject help so that she could ask to die. That's what's offensive here.

Finally, reason number five... why is this moment given to Jaune? That's another easy solution: Jaune has gone through the portal and can't get back to heal Penny. There. Done. But logistics aside, this scene should have gone to any other character. Who is Jaune to Penny? Or Penny to Jaune? No one! They don't have a relationship. I get that the writers didn't want any of the girls at her side because then it would be hard to justify Penny not passing the power to them (which I get: making one team member a Maiden changes the show drastically), but you know who should be there instead of Jaune?

Pietro.

Pietro, who built Penny as a weapon and who was never given the chance to apologize for that. Pietro, who told Ruby he could only rebuild her once more, setting up an expectation that he'd sacrifice himself for his daughter (despite the complicated racial issues that would bring up). Pietro, who watched Penny plummet and has no idea what happened to her, let alone that she's been made into a human girl. Pietro should have been at her side, saying goodbye to his child and helping her complete her last wish.

And it would be so very easy to pull off. All it takes is a single line where Penny remembers that her father exists, asking Ruby to ensure a portal opens up in Amity. There's a quick reunion along the pathways before Cinder attacks. We hear a cry of despair as Penny falls and she looks, seeing her father racing towards her, though she thought he'd already made it out. There, you’re done. We open ourselves up to a lot of attacks whenever we say, "Why didn't RWBY just do ____?" because those who vehemently defend the writing like to go, "Oh, you think you could write RWBY better?" and no, I don't. I struggle with long-form storytelling and massive casts. I don't think I could do justice to the sort of show RWBY wants to be, but I do think I'm a decent enough writer to spot when there are major problems like this. The question of "Why doesn't Penny remember that her beloved dad exists?" and "Why, out of that massive cast, is Jaune the one to do this deed?" are both things that a newbie writer can spot, and a sometimes okay writer can figure out how to fix them both simultaneously. A good writer will start thinking about themes — what might it mean for Pietro to kill the creation he made? — and a great writer will find a way to pull that off without having that insulting, discomforting feeling pop up. At this point, our RWBY crew feels less like new writers making mistakes (because they're not new, not at all), but rather just writers who haven't bothered to learn from their mistakes after eight years. That's a lot harder to watch.

Because putting Jaune here doesn't just mess with RWBY's internal rules (not using his semblance) and it's not just useless in terms of Penny's development (she doesn't know him outside of "dude who boosted my aura for an hour"), but it also falls back into a pattern I thought RWBY had finally broken from: making Jaune the story's emotional center. This is not the JAUNE show. It's the RWBY show. Yet here, once again, we have Jaune in the spotlight. Why, after a whole volume of Ruby avoiding making decisions, does Jaune finally make the hard call? Why, after a scene where Penny asked Ruby to kill her, does Jaune do that deed? Why, after a divisive arc where all the grief for Pyrrha went to Jaune, is Jaune now set to shoulder the grief of Penny? At least Jaune had a relationship with Pyrrha, even if Nora and Ren did too. Yet with Penny he seems to be there solely because the writers can't bear to keep him out of that center spot for long. All of Team JNOR make it through to Vacuo... except Jaune. Jaune falls into the abyss too because, if the show goes this route, we apparently can’t have a volume just about Team RWBY, the main characters. The main characters are separated from the rest of the team and it's Jaune, not Oscar and Ozpin with a connection to the lore, not Nora or Ren whose development now hinges on them learning who they are without the other, it's Jaune who follows the title characters into a new dimension. 

The issue is not whether Jaune deserves to grieve over the truly traumatic thing he just did now that he’s done it. He obviously does. The issue is the writers setting up a scenario where Jaune is situated to do that emotional work in the first place. 

I like Jaune as a character. I don't like how the writing uses him as a character. RWBY is built on the idea that these four girls are the heroes of this tale, not the expected blond, blue-eyed, sword wielding guy we’ve seen in so many other stories. So why does that guy get the most important scene of the finale? Yes, Jaune had much less screen time this volume than he did in the past, that’s a good thing given the number of important characters RWBY has to balance, but that hasn't erased the problem of him being given significant moments that should be going to title characters. Does Ruby’s team rescue Oscar and take on Salem? No, Jaune's team does. Does Ruby's team save Penny? No, Jaune's semblance keeps her grounded and then holds the virus off. Not everything is a problem — we've also got good choices like having Ruby defeat the Hound and Ruby's team take on Cinder for the majority of the fight — but that doesn't erase that Penny’s death wasn’t something Jaune should have been a part of. Not unless he was going to heal her. Doing better than they have in the past doesn't mean that RT isn't still slipping when it comes to giving him undeserved focus.

They took one of the most controversial characters, controversial because of how much emotional focus he's gotten in the past, and had him help a fan favorite commit suicide while he cried about it, showing more emotion for a near stranger than our title character showed for her sister. This is a character who, up until two or three episodes ago, had no connection to the victim and still has no reason to thematically be the one committing this act. That is why the fandom goes, “The crew loves Jaune and does everything they can to put him in the center of the action.” Ruby, as main character and Penny’s first friend, is the obvious choice here. Pietro, as Penny's father, would be a good choice too. Hell, Nora is a better option given their moment in the Schnee manor this volume. Or Winter given their moments in Volume 7! Have her escape Ironwood, find Penny, receive the powers, and then finish him off. Literally anyone would be better than Jaune, not because Jaune is a bad character, but because Jaune has no emotional stakes here and putting him in a position where he could heal Penny but doesn’t is massively stupid. No one should be surprised that a lot of the fandom is upset about this. It was one hell of a reach to give him this moment and, since Jaune's problem has always been getting too much screen time and emotional nuance compared to our main cast, it's no wonder this act brought up a lot of bad memories. RT fell back into an old pattern after two volumes of improvement and they did so at the worst possible time. 

The tl;dr is that Penny's third death is a writing travesty, just like her second. I shouldn't be surprised, given that this is the same volume that tortured a kid and the only thing they did with it was have him blindly trust his torturer... yet I find myself surprised nonetheless. Because Penny had such potential as an android Maiden and, as much as I personally hated it, potential as a former android learning to be human too. But why explore any of that when you can kill her off instead? Again.

As a final, far smaller note about this scene, we have the continuing problem of what purpose Cinder's arm is serving. If everyone recalls, its threat comes primarily from the fact that she can "siphon off" power from other Maidens.

She did it to Penny during the Amity battle and now she does it again, a great deal of green energy absorbed into Cinder. So what's left to give to Winter? Why doesn't Cinder become noticeably stronger with each successful theft? Like so much else in RWBY, we're told it exists without actually seeing the impact of that. Winter isn't a weaker Maiden for having lost power and Cinder isn't a stronger Maiden for having snagged it. It's just.. there, hanging out and looking vaguely menacing, I guess.

Outside of this unnatural not-transfer, we get to see how the power normally passes as Penny meets with Winter in some in-between place. It's a soft, heartfelt scene... with the exception that Winter says, “You were always the real Maiden at heart. I was just the machine. Just following orders."

I don't know how any viewer can doubt that RT now believes machinery = evil. Penny's machine body is magicked away so she can be a real-real girl. Yang announces that the arm she worked hard to make a part of herself is just "extra." The man with half a metal body is made this volume's villain and losing his second arm is, by the authors' own admission, a symbol of his lost humanity. Mercury with two metal legs remains a bad guy while Emerald and Hazel are hastily redeemed. Tyrian with his cybernetic tail is the most devoted crazy of the bunch. Maria, blind and in need of assistive lenses, is so forgotten by the story she was left in the tundra nine episode ago and won't be mentioned again until next volume (if then). Pietro, the guy in the wheelchair, is forgotten too, despite it being his daughter who dies on screen.

Now Winter, also bearing an assistive device, says that she's the real "machine" here and tells Penny, now human, that she was always the "real Maiden." I don't know what happened to make RT do a 180 lately, but the disability rep is no longer what it was.

Penny reassures Winter that she'll always be a part of her and then passes on, for good this time.

The rest of the episode feels lackluster, if I'm being honest. Images of Cinder beating Weiss are intercut with Ironwood beating Winter, getting her to a point where her aura breaks. 

But then the powers appear and, as we'd expect, she easily turns the tide. 

Gorgeous animation there. 

But RT once again rewrites earlier scenes by having Ironwood claim that the "destiny" he chose for Winter has finally arrived — isn't that Cinder's MO? — and Winter shoots back that he chose nothing, this was a "gift." Except, it was never about destiny or orders? This was why Weiss' anger in Volume 7 was ridiculous. She acted like Ironwood forced Winter to accept the powers and Winter told her point blank she chose this. Ironwood didn't decide anything, he offered and Winter chose... kind of like how Penny is choosing now. I hate how nearly all of Ironwood's character has been ignored or, during times like this, outright lied about to make him seem super duper evil. He tried to bomb a city! You don't need to make him seem evil anymore, that job is done! Like their sudden change regarding disability, RT now seems to be allergic to nuance. Heaven forbid Ironwood be allowed to have valid points like he did in Volume 3. No, if you've got an antagonist every single thing they've ever said must be twisted into a display of their evilness.

Unless you're Hazel, who Oscar trusts for #reasons. Unless you're Emerald, who the group immediately embraces. Unless you're Cinder, who gets to cry on a rooftop and secures the trust of her allies long enough to betray them again.

But Ironwood? Nah, screw that guy.

Salt aside, the fight is pretty boring. Winter literally just throws up a wall of ice and Ironwood's blast rebounds, taking him out.

Winter flies through the portal and we return to Jaune. His sword is broken by Cinder, so weapons should be quite the problem in Volume 9. 

There's a bit of sword vs. sword Maiden battling — this episode really pulled heavily from both Volume 3 and 5's finales — before Cinder gets smart again and attacks Weiss, currently trying to escape with Jaune. Weiss goes right off the edge and Winter isn't able to reach her in time. That's the entirety of Team RWBY, lost to the magical void.

Kudos to Winter's VA and the writing here though. This feels like an appropriate reaction to losing a sister. Screaming, sobbing, falling to her knees and beating the floor... Ruby, take notes.

A roar sounds through all the portals though, the sort of roar a pissed off witch might give. Jaune convinces Winter they need to leave Cinder behind, but before they can escape Cinder... makes a new wish?

Look, it works on all the major fronts. Cinder has the staff, check. We've basically established that Ambrosius can make an unlimited number of things per era, check. We know the previous thing disappears when a new wish is made, check. My only question is the timing. In all honesty, I'll have to re-watch the scene to be sure, but at the time it felt like the portals began disappearing almost the second Cinder left. Did she really have time to summon Ambrosius, deal with his explanatory nonsense, and get him to make a new wish without any fiddly concerns? Sure, fire is just fire, but it still felt like way too much happening too fast off screen.

Either way, the portals are gone and Winter makes it through in time, but Jaune does not. He falls through the void along with Team RWBY. And Neo.

Neo is the only addition I'm looking forward to here.

We get a few shots of our other characters as Winter arrives, saving the day by taking her grief out on the grimm. So glad something came of Ren breaking his aura again! Maybe they'll be more fighting at the beginning of Volume 9? If we see any of this group outside of 9's finale. My worst fear right now is that we'll spend an entire season away from the main action — remember how I said it would be stupid for Team RWBY to go on a side adventure while Salem is attacking the world? — and when they return there will have been some major time skip. Salem has destroyed most of Remnant, only pockets of survivors remain, it's all dark and dystopian... and oh look, every bit of character development happened off screen. How did Nora discover who she is without Ren? She did it while Team RWBY was gone. That merge we've been teasing for five years? That happened while you were gone too and, btw, Ozpin has ceased to exist. So sad, right? Not that anyone will actually mourn. Just take comfort in the fact that his last line was an "Oh no" about Ambrosius and his last major scene was apologizing for how the group treated him. Emerald's redemption? Off screen. Winter's grief? Off screen. Any and every one of these challenging beats to tackle can be waved away with, "We went through that arc while you were lost in the magical realm. Just get to know our new, improved selves now!"

Please, oh writing gods, don't let that happen.

Though I do worry because my last prediction came true.

But we all knew we’d end up here. My current theory? The portal should still be open at the vault. Winter will fight Ironwood, escape through it, and it will close right before he escapes too. He’ll fall with Atlas and everyone will act as if it’s some beautiful, poetic justice for him to perish with the city. 

Ironwood didn't make a break for the portal — too busy being unconscious — but we got everything else. Winter left him, he falls with Atlas, and this is some poetic justice, I guess. Really, it's just an undignified death. I'd hoped for a sympathetic kill, something that showed the characters still cared about him even if they knew Ironwood had to be stopped. Baring that, I'd hoped for an epic battle that took him out with style. Instead, no one even bothers to kill him. Ironwood is now beneath the entire cast, not even worth finishing off. Winter casually tosses his blast back at him and leaves. Cinder throws out a "that's checkmate" and leaves. I don't think Salem even looks at him. Ironwood (presumably) dies with no one and nothing, just a casualty of the city Team RWBY made fall. And I say "presumably" because the audience isn't even given the satisfaction of being sure he's passed on. Like Hazel, Ironwood's death is this weird, ambiguous moment that, based on the other character reactions, isn’t meant to be ambiguous. Is he dead? Most likely. Is it possible, based on what we've seen, that he'll pop up two volumes later like

Yes and, memes aside, that sucks. I don't want to be wondering for the next couple years if Ironwood survived and if they'll bring him back just to drag his character through the mud again. Move on.

But no, we don't even get that.

I've spoken at great deal about Ironwood both in these recaps and on my blog more generally. Last week, I said I'd covered it all and there was no need to rehash it all again. I stand by that, so let me just conclude this travesty with a final note: if your bad guy's final moment is using the last of his strength to point a gun at the actual villain of this story, and you don't realize the problem of how this image contrasts everything else the story has insisted about his character? … I just don't know what to do with that.

Oh, actually, final-final note: Ironwood’s semblance is officially a Schrodinger's semblance. It is both canonical and noncanonical simultaneously. Wooo. 

Cinder tells Salem she used her wish to "add more flames to the first of Atlas" and we cut to Watts, trapped in a roaring fire, unsuccessfully trying to break his way out. Wow, I hate that too! Next to Tyrian, Watts was our last remaining, entertaining villain. He carried a lot of the last two volumes and, I had hoped, was going to add some bright spots to the coming volumes as well. Apparently not.

Just another waste.

In addition to this casual, second murder of her ally, Cinder successfully convinces Salem that Neo killed Ruby and Ruby used the Lamp's last question, but she's back in her good graces since she snagged the Relics anyway. “You’ve done well, Cinder. Our work here is done" and they leave, blasting off like a less cool Team Rocket as Atlas plummets into Mantle.

Let's spend a second to tally things up then, shall we? What happens if Ruby, instead of throwing a moral fit, says, "You're right and we never should have lied to you, or betrayed you. But we want to help now. You get the Relics and the Maiden to safety in Atlas, if you can, we'll defend the people of Mantle"?

Well, they can still tell the world about Salem and call for help, much more easily now since Ironwood would likely just give them the code rather than them needing to spend an episode stealing it.

The Staff at least may not have ended up in Salem's hands and the group could have actually focused on getting the Lamp back (also solved if they'd been smart and just put it in the vault to begin with).

Mantle would still have been safe because Salem was never interested in Mantle to begin with.

Atlas wouldn't have fallen.

Ironwood wouldn't have died.

Penny wouldn't have died.

Even Vine wouldn't have died!

Our heroes unambiguously made the situation worse. Rather than banding together with their allies to fight the real enemy, Salem, they pushed until they made enemies of Ironwood and the Ace Ops both. Then they asked for help — which a pinch of logic said would never arrive — and twiddled their thumbs waiting for it. When it was clear none would come they...did nothing. They sat around, upset that the people were in danger, but not willing to do anything about it. It's only when one of their own, Penny, is threatened that they kick into high gear, hitting on a solution that they could have posed to Ironwood from the very start if no one liked the fly away plan. Yet instead of taking a few minutes to brainstorm other ideas — doing anything other than denouncing Ironwood to the rest of the group and attacking the Ace Ops — they spent two days sitting around, fixing minor messes they’d helped to create, then rushed through the portal plan, messing up the wish and stranding an entire kingdom in a sandstorm, with only Winter now to protect them from grimm.

Fantastically done, team. 

The villains won, yes, but not because the villains were smart and compelling. Watts' hack on Penny and the heat petered out to nothing and Salem... well, she sat around for the whole volume, expending energy only to torture Oscar and try to (unsuccessfully) stop some escapees. Neo and, miraculously, Cinder did the most damage, but only in the final hour, with this "damage" being that our characters fall into a void that we now know looks remarkably like a paradise! Everything bad that happened was a result of our heroes being stupid and stubborn. That's a compelling story to tell... but RT isn't trying to tell it. Our heroes caused so much damage, yet that damage goes unacknowledged — or worse, ignored into silence like with Ren — and everything else is waved away with the magic wand the series claims isn't there. The cold doesn't kill anyone. Oscar has no problems walking off the torture. Nora hops back out of bed. Ruby one-shots the Hound. The civilians lost to the void must have survived too. The entire kingdom successfully makes it to Vacuo... unless you count the massive army we never saw making use of the portals, but who cares about them, right?

The villains won, there was indeed something resembling consequences, but none of it was emotionally satisfying. Not even when the series tries so hard to insist that emotion is there.

Qrow watches Atlas fall, mouthing Ruby and Yang's names, but it's too little, too late. Where was this care for his nieces when he was obsessed with killing Ironwood? When did they care about him? Was it when Ruby shrugged at his arrest, when neither cared that he was missing, or when they were designing an escape plan that didn't include putting a portal where Qrow could reach? RWBY markets itself around the found family-ness of its cast, but they're done a poor job in recent volumes (not others) of convincing me that most of these characters care for one another. We went from Ruby denouncing all adults, to Ruby pulling an Ozpin with Ironwood, to Ruby watching blandly as her sister falls to her presumed death. This is my hero? This is the simple soul we're supposed to rally behind? Ruby doesn't feel like a character who cares about other people anymore and, given that she leads the charge, neither do most of her friends. Or, when that emotion appears, it's jarring and undeserved. Jaune cries over Penny's death? That's tonally and characteristically backwards.

This volume was the culmination of so many mistakes over the past two years. No, Covid couldn't have made things any easier for the crew — the fact that they got a volume out at all is amazing — but the pandemic isn't to blame for the problems in the story. These seeds have existed since Volume 5, with some (like Jaune) going back even farther. I don't think we're ever going to get that flawed, but emotionally fulfilling RWBY back. The show has dug too deep and unless it somehow manages to create a clean slate — those time travel ideas get more and more alluring! — there's nothing they can do but keep on digging. At this point, I can only hope that the series does wrap up within the next two volumes, rather than dragging RWBY to a Supernatural-esque length.

Our final shot of the episode proper feels fitting for what this volume has been. Atlas and Mantle flood rather than exploding, something that makes a certain amount of sense, sure, but definitely wasn't what I was expecting. And after all these shocking images — Penny dying, the grimm attacking, our main characters disappearing in a puff of gold dust — we end it all with bits of random debris. It's strange and underwhelming. Out of everything you could have done with the options you had, you choose to do this?

Of course, RWBY always has an after-credits scene (RIP Raven's, still amounting to nothing). Here, the sounds of water return to show us a beach. Crescent Rose imbedded in the sand, mirroring its classic pose in the snow.  

There's a tree. It's a very different kind of tree from what we saw in Volume 6, but the height and shape is nevertheless reminiscent of Light's domain.

A tree of life, anyone? After all, the group has fallen into a dimension created by a Relic, the gift of Light himself. It certainly seems as if RWBY is heading towards another encounter with the Gods, though what that will look like and how narratively satisfying it will be remains to be seen.

As for our bingo board, RWBY certainly pulled its weight! Only three squares got gold stars: Watts and Jacques didn't manage another team up because both are dead, Oscar didn't apologize for getting shot because he was too busy being tortured, and Qrow didn't drink likely because he didn't have access to any alcohol across the whole volume. Can't say that's a stellar result. The final image is something to behold though lol.

What a mess.

And on that less than exciting note... we’re done. This has been the volume of desertion, with a large number of fans telling me that they will no longer watch RWBY, but baring something entirely unexpected in my future, I'll be back next volume, for whatever that's worth. It never ceases to amaze me that even one person would give these nonsense recaps the time of day, so in all seriousness: thank you for reading. You rock.

Now go forth and fill the hiatus with great RWBY content!

✌️

[busycryin]

REPOST - THE NIGHT WE MET

THE NIGHT WE MET

PART ONE - THE NIGHT WE MET

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: You decide to travel to Colombia on a whim, there you meet a gorgeous stranger that just so happens to be your brothers partner. 

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

Anon was worried about losing my work when I switched blogs, so fear not. I’m reposting on here but I have no intention of deleting my other blog, it’s where I got my first 200 notes and I’m honestly blown away by it. I’m happy to announce I’m working on a fourth part. I’m not sure when I’ll post it as I’m still in the idea stage but it’s definitely a start, ay!

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you’d like to see anything in particular. If it’s in my wheelhouse, you’ll definitely see it.  

Pedro in the black shirt is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie.

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake.

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin’ airline ticket. You had attempted to grab your crappy life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentary bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into one of your full scale panic attacks if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim.

You were fuckin’ dumb.

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar.

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self.

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing.

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn’t have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed.  A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret.

You had to check on Steve.

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn’t there to kill him.

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother’s address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other.  The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian.

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here.

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands, you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought.

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response.

“Uh… no hablo… español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi…Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason.

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda… does he know you’re here?”

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed.

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second.

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again.

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it’s a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive.

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with.

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you.

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more.

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man… Good to know.

…

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one.

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink.

“Murphy? … Yeah…  you need to get back to your place now… You’ve got a guest…. No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother’s partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months.

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another’s company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving.  He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance.

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner’s sister and he was doing the decent thing.

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.”  You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it’s a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds.

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired.

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out.

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone.

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman’s tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman’s words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son… I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…”  Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.”

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own.

How was he so goddamn warm?

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man’s elbow and you’re a blushing mess.  

Get a grip Y/N.

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art.

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia… Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host.  You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully.

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it’s probably ‘cause he’s busy…  He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.”

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention,  you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning.“

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier.  He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit.

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier’s hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach.

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching.  He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system.  You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother’s partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve…

“… This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint.

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance.

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own.

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love.  This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew.

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throat your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered  “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled.

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man’s hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser.

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own.  Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it.

“…Is Steve okay?”

“…No… He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding.

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime.

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve’s voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “…what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it’s not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.  

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia.

This had definitely not been a mistake.

[megthemewlingquim]

WATERMELON SUGAR

Summary: Breathe him in, breathe him out.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: very brief smut, (public) oral sex (female receiving)

A/N: This is Chapter Two of my “Fine Line” series! This one is inspired by Watermelon Sugar, the first song I actually listened to by Harry (as a solo artist). I know he means for the meaning of this song to be open ended but come on, we all know that this song is about doing the dirty. 

I hope you like this series! If you do, please reblog and leave feedback. I heavily encourage you to listen to the album (because it’s phenomenal), or listen to each song before you read each chapter. Speaking of chapters, they will be uploaded every Sunday at 12:00 PM EST.

A NOTE: EACH CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL BE A TIME SKIP FROM THE LAST CHAPTER. NO CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL OCCUR DIRECTLY AFTER ANOTHER.

Read Chapter One, "GOLDEN", here!

Find the “Fine Line” masterlist here!

The sun shines, and the waves of the ocean crash onto the rocks and the shores of the beach. The sand is a beautiful white, and people laugh and talk as they lay on it, relishing in each others’ company.

And you are no exception to this. Loki lays beside you, on a pink blanket that you brought. He had mumbled, “I’m not laying on that,” but once he saw you lay down, he sighed, though not with annoyance, and went to join you.

“I’m not used to this heat,” he says. Black sunglasses cover his green eyes, but you can tell he has his eyes on the water in front of you. “I was born on a planet of snow. I am forever cold. But this… this feels quite nice.”

You can hear laughter and cheers from a group of people to your left. They are all dressed in bathing suits and sunglasses, and they lay on towels as well. It seems they are being well-fed as well, as they all snack on fruit — you can see some of them eating watermelon slices. As you glance over to them, you see other people, people who are not in the original group, being offered the fruits as well.

“Want some watermelon, sugar?” you ask, a grin on your face.

“Hm?” Loki asks. “What’s that?”

It takes a second for you to register it. “Wait, you’ve—” you stammer in disbelief, “you’ve never…” You stand up, looking determined. “You’ve never had watermelon? I’m getting you some.”

“Love, you don’t have to —” Loki tries to object.

“Nope, you’ve awakened my curious side. I wanna see how you like it.” You grin down at him again. “Hold on a second.” With that, you start to speed-walk down the sand.

Loki looks at you as you leave. His eyes roam all over you, and they spend a second longer on your ass than anything else. You wear a thin, small pair of bikini bottoms, and your legs are waxed and smooth.

He sighs, contentedly, laying completely on his blanket, letting the sun warm his face and his bare chest. He closes his eyes. He knows he can’t sleep, not in this midday sun, but simply resting is good enough for him now.

A cool drop of something lands on his face a few minutes later, and it startles him a bit. However, he relaxes when he realizes it’s just you standing above him, holding something in your hand. 

“Eat up, babe.”

Loki reaches up and swipes the drop of the wet something off his face. Tentatively, he licks it. “Hm,” he muses. “That’s sweet.”

“Try biting it, you’ll love it.” With a little grunt, you sit next to him again, offering him a piece of watermelon. He takes it.

After a bite and some slow chewing, he hums again in approval. “That’s nice. Quite refreshing.”

“Glad you like it,” you say cheerfully. You nod over to the party to your left. “Y’know, those people were awfully friendly. Extremely kind. Very, uh, open and cheerful. They didn’t seem to care about whether or not anyone was a stranger, they let them join anyway. It was just…” You stop, trying to search for the words. “Love all around. There was plenty of food to go around, more than just watermelons — also raspberries and blueberries. They were awfully cuddly, too.”

“Perhaps they’re on something,” Loki says smugly. “Maybe they’re all high.”

“You might think that, but maybe that’s because it’s not… not widely accepted to be cuddly and open in public.” You roll your eyes, though not at him. “Why can’t everyone just treat people with kindness?”

“You’re human. You have your faults. Those people? They might’ve just learned to move past them. We can all learn from them, can’t we?”

“Yeah,” you say. “They might also just be relishing in the fact that we can be close to each other again. Physically, I mean. I don’t know if you were here in 2020, but... uh, there was a —”

“I remember,” Loki smirks, though not at the unfortunate memories of what had happened back then. “Perhaps we can learn from them about that, too… would you like to stay here until dark, my love? We could walk around, do whatever it is you humans do in the ocean, find some supper, just spend the whole day here?”

“What’s that look on your face for?” you chuckle. “Do you have something planned?”

He gasps, faking surprise. “My darling, why would you ever think that? It’s just an innocent day at the beach. Besides, they’re not getting… too intimate.”

“What’s ‘too intimate’ supposed to mean?” you ask, a little something creeping into your head and making you smile.

He smirks but says nothing. Instead, he changes the subject. “Did you meet anybody when you went down to that group of people?”

Playfully, you roll your eyes at him. “Everyone there said hello, but I really didn’t get to talk to anyone besides this one man. He was dressed as if it were spring, not summer — he was wearing a multicolored shirt, a freakin’ vest, and some sort of jeans. I don’t know what he was thinking, but he certainly looked nice. I also liked his nails, they were colored as well.”

You look at the water as you chew your fruit. “You’d look nice with black nails, maybe even green ones.”

He hums in thought. “Maybe…”

The day passes quite slowly, but you don’t mind. It stays hot and the sun stays visible. Clouds are almost nonexistent, which is always a plus when you want to swim.

Loki joins you, and you make great fun of splashing each other. When you go deeper into the water, he finds enjoyment in diving deep, coming up in front of you, holding your face in his hands, and kissing you before going back under. You’re taken aback the first few times, then you get the message and kiss him back with a breathy laugh.

Drowning is of no thought to you. You can swim, but even if you couldn’t, you know Loki would take care of you. He always stays close and you keep your eyes on each other.

When it gets a little later, you get out of the water and dry off. Many people have already left, including the little party you encountered. Only a few people remain, some of them in couples, and they either rest on their towels or walk on the shoreline.

“Could we stay here a little while longer?” Loki asks. “There’s one more thing I’d like to do.”

“Yeah, sure,” you say amiably, though you wonder what ‘one more thing’ might be.

You both wait until everyone else has left. By this time, you’ve put your shirt on, for your bathing suit has dried but it is getting colder. Loki has not put anything more on him. Perhaps he welcomes the cold.

When Loki starts to move, you look at him. He shuffles to you, practically crawling to you. You gasp as he lightly pushes you back onto your towel. Your head lands not on the hardness of sand but on a little pillow that was not there before.

“Loki, Loki, wh-what are you —”

He shushes you, and just that alone makes you shiver with arousal. “If you allow me, I would like to give you something… I’ve been here all day, resisting the urge to take you in front of all of those people. Do you know how difficult that was?”

“N-no,” you answer. “But —” You interrupt yourself with a nervous chuckle. “—knowing you, you probably couldn’t hold it in for long.”

“Hence,” he grins, looking down at you, his eyes lingering on your “quim”. He likes that word. He’s used it before. “Would you mind if I go down on you? I just wanna taste it. Maybe give you an orgasm. Whatever works for you.”

You nod frantically, but then you look around. No one else is on the beach, no one else is present to look at you.

“Do not worry about that,” Loki says when he notices your worried glances. He laces your fingers with his own, holding your hand and running his thumb across your skin in comforting little motions. “No one is here, sweetness, just look at me. Do that, or look up. I know how you are when I do this. Sometimes you’re too self conscious to see me doing this to you with all my enthusiasm. So, if you want, look up. I won’t mind.”

You breathe out shakily, and your breath gets caught in your throat as you see Loki pull your bottoms to the side. Immediately, he begins, latching his tongue and lips to your most intimate parts. He licks and sucks all around, paying special attention to your clit — he knows what you like. Your stomach heaves as you breathe. 

“I don’t know if I could ever go without this,” he moans. “You’re so wonderful and... and warm...”

You established long ago that Loki actually takes pleasure from pleasuring you, but it never fails to catch you off guard.

After a particularly hard suck to your clit, you moan, and it is louder than intended.

Loki seems to like it. “Sounds just like a song. Sing for me.”

A laugh then. “Okay, Phantom.” When Loki looks up at you in confusion, you shake your head. “I’ll show you later.”

Soon, it’s not long before you’re squirming in your chair, breathing heavily as Loki holds you down. The coil in your gut is rising, and rising fast. Loki’s drive to please you is incredible, and you can tell he’s determined.

You moan, quite shamelessly, out loud as you reach your end, and it takes quite a long time for you to regain your senses. Loki smiles up at you once he gets his mouth off of your quivering pussy. “Was that good, love?”

You laugh, breathlessly. “Yeah. Yeah, that was good. Thank you.”

You leave without saying much else about it. He takes you home, and kisses you in the doorway as you move to leave. The sun is long gone, and the moonlight fills the air with a white glow.

You turn to close the door behind you.

In a split second decision, you pull him into the house, and he doesn’t resist. He stays the night, in your house and in your bed.

[mieohmy]

𝖲𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖡𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗒 (𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒) | 𝖬𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖫𝖾𝖾

PAIRING: intern! lee mark x intern! reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, coworkers-to-lovers, slight pining

WC: 1.7k

NOTES: slight cursing

SUMMARY: just you being forced to share a hotel room with another cute intern. but of course that room has only one bed....

☾

Does the universe hate you? is the only thing running through your head. You’re shivering, hands rubbing together to create warmth as you wait for the worker to pull up a room. Mark stands next to you, bouncing up and down to keep warm. 

Curse your stupid CEO for forcing you and Mark to go to this hotel. Curse the weather for snowing you two in. Curse yourself for choosing to intern at this company. The only person you couldn’t curse was Mark. The whole day had been a mess, and he was nothing but helpful. Except for at this moment, he couldn’t do anything, as much as you wished he could. 

Finally, the lady tells you they have one last room open since it was such short notice. You sigh, accepting it since you have no other choice. It was either take this room or spend the night out in the cold. 

Obtaining the room card, Mark takes your suitcase, and you gratefully thank him. Getting in the elevator, you press the fifth floor. You turn to Mark. “Someday, isn’t it?” He attempts to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. “I thought this was gonna be a vacation, but here we are freezing our butts off.” You laugh before the doors open. 

Shuffling out, you find your room. Eagerly, you open the door, ready for some warmth and a cozy bed. The door creaks open, and you don’t move.

“Y/n?? What’s wrong?” You don’t say anything, just stepping aside for him to see. There’s only one fucking bed.  

Mark awkwardly scratches his head. “Well.... what do we do?” Running your hands through your hair in annoyance, you huff. “What else can we do? This is the last room unless you want to sleep outside in the snow.” 

You push through, and Mark follows. It’s honestly a nice room, except that there was only one bed- and two people. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” Mark offers. Frowning, you hesitate whether to offer to share the bed or not. The couch was cute, sure, but small and not fit for sleeping. Anyone could tell.

You had absolutely nothing against Mark. He was an intern that applied alongside you, extremely kind and polite. Being the two newbies, you both got along pretty well. You would even say the two of you were friends. But was sharing a bed crossing the line?

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “It’s okay. Mark offered to take the couch. I’ll pay him back later with food,” you assure yourself. You let him wash up first in the bathroom before you go in and get ready for bed. 

You take a glance at Mark already on the couch. You notice his feet are hanging off the edge and immediately feel guilty. “Are you sure it’s okay, Mark?” He nods. “Seriously, y/n, I’m fine.” You made sure he had enough blankets and a pillow before turning the light off. 

Getting under the covers, you almost immediately fall asleep. The events of the day exhausted you. First, waking up every day for work at 6, then finally arriving after a late bus. Next thing you know, the boss calls you and Mark up. “We just want you to go and test this hotel for one night, that’s all.” And then you ended up getting snowed in and forced to stay two more days. Great. 

Your eyes suddenly flick open. It’s dark, and you can barely see the ceiling. Rolling over, you catch the time. 1:59 am. 

It’s cold, you think while groaning. Suddenly, you hear a sneeze. Shoot, Mark. Getting up, you squint your eyes in the dark to find him. He’s shivering and curled up in a ball on the small couch. Your heart pangs. You can’t do this anymore. 

“Mark,” you rasp. You tiptoe over to the couch. Light shaking his arm, you call his name again. He slowly lifts his head, eyes barely open. 

You grab his arm. He’s lighter than you thought as you pull him up and over to the bed. Yawning, you push him onto it and climb to the other side. Placing a pillow between as a border, you whisper a soft “good night” before getting under the covers again and falling into darkness. 

Beep. Beep. Beeep. The alarm rings through your head, but surprisingly, you wake up refreshed. You sleepily stare at the ceiling before remembering Mark. Turning, you gasp at the sight. 

“Oh my god, Mark. What happened to you?” You expected to see a sleeping Mark. Instead, he was staring straight up at the ceiling, not blinking. His head slowly turns to yours, eyes bloodshot, and the bags underneath very visible.

He talked slow, voice scratchy and deep. “I’m not sure how I got here, but It suddenly got so hot last night.... you kinda rolled right next to me. So I threw off the blankets. Then it got really cold. You took all of them. It was freezing.” He pauses before looking back at the ceiling. “You kick a lot in your sleep..” 

You cringe, horrified. “I’m so sorry Mark.. I totally forgot to warn you about my sleeping habits... I felt so bad seeing you on the couch and kinda just forced you here.  ”

You both get ready to get breakfast downstairs and check if the snow had gotten better. Once you arrive at the dining area, you head straight to the drink station. 

Mark finds a table, slumping down and placing his cheek on the hard surface. You softly place the steaming cup of tea next to him. 

“I... I thought it’d be better if you had tea. That’s okay, right?” you ask. Mark gratefully nods before taking a sip. Looking outside, you frown. “I’m not sure if it’s cleared up yet. I guess we’re still stuck here.” Mark yawns. 

“I’m guessing you didn’t get much sleep?” you say sheepishly. Mark groans. “Who knew you did all that in your sleep?” You press your lips together. “I know, it’s bad, but I have no idea how to fix it. You kinda just learn to deal with it..” 

It’s too cold to go exploring, so you decide to head back up to your room after eating. The two of you walk to the elevator. While waiting, Mark suddenly slumps forward into you, falling, and you’re somehow able to catch him, holding him in an embrace. 

“Mark?” You gently ask, concerned. Eyes closed, he mumbles softly, “Have I ever told you I wanted to ask you out?” You freeze. What the fuck? 

Laughing nervously, you desperately tap him, trying to get him to wake up. He’s still slumped over in your arms, and you somehow drag him into the elevator. He’s finally able to stand as the elevator rides up. There’s an awkward silence. You’re not sure what to say. 

Getting off, you open the door to the room as Mark trails behind you. Your mind’s a mess, but you force Mark to sleep first. “Go to sleep, Mark. You need it. I’ll wake you up later.” He tries to protest, but you shove him to bed. 

After he’s settled, you sit on the couch, processing what he said. Are you sure you heard him right? Did Mark Lee really say he wanted to ask you out?? Maybe he was just too sleep-deprived?? 

You punch yourself in the head. Stupid, stupid. Mark just confessed,  and you didn’t even say anything?? You let out a silent scream. Do you even like him back? You never thought of him in that way.

You think back to the first time you met him. 

It was the two of you standing awkwardly as the boss introduced everyone. Mark seemed so professional at first, but you later found out how awkward and hilarious he was. The late nights working on papers and projects together makes you grin. 

Honestly, it’s just fun hanging out with him, you realize.

You bite your lip. Maybe you do like him, you’re not sure. Should you ask him? Did he mean it? Or does he not remember?? Ugh, why is this stuff so complicated...

Mark wakes up hungry, and you take him to eat downstairs in the lobby. He doesn’t bring it up, so you don’t say anything. The whole time, it’s pretty silent, and you’re not sure why you feel so awkward. 

Once you get back to the room, you both get ready for bed. You suddenly get a text from your boss. 

“Your flight back is rescheduled for tomorrow at 7 am. You should be good to check out tomorrow. Don’t be late.” it reads.

You show Mark the message. “So I guess we’re leaving tomorrow?” You nod, feeling slightly disappointed? 

No questions asked, you make Mark sleep next to you. You still put up the pillow border, though. “I’m sorry if I kick you or steal the blankets,” you warn this time. He laughs. “It’s okay, I’m prepared.” 

You slip under the covers, ready to get some sleep before the early flight tomorrow, but you find yourself unable to. You toss and turn, the precious sleep not coming to you. 

You don’t know what time it is, but Mark eventually shifts next to you. “Can’t sleep?” he says quietly. You let out a breath. It’s now or never. “Did you mean it? That you wanted to ask me out?”

You hear him inhale. “I-um yes, I did mean it. It wasn’t supposed to come out, I was just tired and l-“ You cut his rambling off. “Oh, so why didn’t you?” 

Looking at him, you notice he’s staring up at the ceiling again. He gulps, turning to face you. “Well-I- uh, was afraid you would say no..” 

“Well, I haven’t rejected you yet, haven’t I?” you whisper. You timidly lean over the pillows, placing a kiss on his cheek. He stares at you, wide-eyed. You move back to your spot.  “Goodnight Mark. Just hit me if I bother you in my sleep.” You close your eyes, trying your best to fall asleep, heart racing. 

And before you know it, you’re waking up to an alarm sound. The next morning, it’s freezing as the two of you get ready. Grabbing all your belongings, you and Mark successfully check out. You’re rolling your suitcase outside when you suddenly feel Mark grab your hand. He places it inside his jacket pocket. 

You turn to him, surprised. He coughs, ears red. “It’s cold.” Your face may be freezing, but your heart is warm. 

☾    

And even after many years, when your relatives ask your husband how he deals with your sleeping habits, Mark only shrugs. “You get used to it.”

[uhgoodmoni]

Oil Paints | MYG

Summary: t’s Yoongi’s bday!!! His girlfriend has noticed how he’s been blowing off the idea of anything happening for his birthday. Everyone will be busy. You don’t have to get him anything. He just wants to relax. Blah blah blah. Despite all that, she still wants to do something a little special. Nothing crazy because she knows he wouldn’t like that, but just a nicely set dinner, some wine, and a couple of gifts to surprise him when he gets home from work. It’s perfect, mood lighting at all! Surprise, surprise! He’s not answering his calls, worrying her to death.

(This is so late for his bday but thats okay because life happens! Thanks for reading!)

Warnings: - angst, pure angst - fluff -

Ao3 - Wattpad

How’s it going?

This was the tenth message that I had sent to Yoongi. It was also the tenth message he didn’t respond to. He was just busy. I already knew that. He told me. But I was just worried. He had a horrible week. Each day was more draining than the last, and I was sure that he wasn’t giving himself a break either. I can always tell when he’s about to hit his limit. I wish he wouldn’t hold it in so much. Especially since it was his birthday. Big Hit wouldn’t overwork him on his birthday? Would they? 

Well, they probably would, except I knew that Yoongi himself was overworking himself too. He works so hard. Too hard sometimes, and the boys or I would have to remind him to take some free time. But he wanted the projects to be perfect. I was proud of him for working so hard but I just wished he would take a break when given the chance. 

Today was one of those chances. Of course, he went to work early, so did I. But he said he would be working a bit late, he wouldn’t get home until around eight. It was a little disappointing to not be able to spend his birthday with him. Not that he wanted me to plan anything, but just being able to shower him with affections would be enough. Watching movies, listening to him rant about his next mixtape. That’s all I wanted for today. Instead, I had to watch his birthday live from my work desk. He seemed happier than he had been the whole week. Namjoon and Jin came in to visit him. It was refreshing to see him smile so freely. He really was happy doing this job, it just always seemed to nag at him, till he overflowed. Even the things you love can be stressful. Usually, he never got this bad, holding onto the stress and then letting it out on a song for something, but recently he hadn’t found time to work on his solos. Busy with schedules. 

That’s probably the same reason Yoongi’s bday live didn’t last very long. Yoongi didn’t seem too happy to be leaving. But he had said that they had more filmings coming up, and to look forward to new works. How much work did he really have? I just couldn’t wait for him to get home. He could kick up his feet, enjoy some good alcohol and be the little spoon if he wanted. 

Despite his wishes for me to do absolutely nothing for him. I had catered his favorite dinner to the house. A surprise for when he got home, I didn’t mind a late dinner. With his busy schedule he hadn’t found time to do more art. He enjoyed painting so I got him some art supplies for home. Tonight I knew he would just want to stay home and relax so I figured dinner from home and maybe a movie didn’t sound too bad. The boys had already greeted him separately from their busy schedules and now it was my turn. Waiting, waiting. 

The day went by slowly. My worries were rapidly taking over my mind, however, I tried to assure myself that he was just busy. He’ll come home and the rest of the night will be okay. 

Except he didn’t. It was nine and he wasn’t home. No answer to any of my calls or texts. I tried to not spam him too much, but knowing that he normally always answers, I was beginning to stress. 

“I’m sorry for calling, I just am really worried about him.” I bite into the skin of my finger, tapping my foot on the floor. In front of me, the dinner sits. Cold now. 

“No it’s okay, maybe he just fell asleep in the studio.” Namjoon hums through the other side of the phone. I let out a strained chuckle. That would be such a relief. Worked himself so hard he just took a nap. Namjoon is always the right person to call in these situations. He doesn’t sound as worried. He knows Yoongi a bit better than I. Maybe I should be less worried too. “Mhm, he’s not here. I’ll give him a call, but maybe he just left and is on his way home. Maybe his phone died.” Namjoon’s explanations were perfectly rational. But that didn’t change the fact that I was worried. 

“Okay…” I tried to hide my tone, “I’ll let you know when he gets home.”

“Yup, and I’ll let you know if I hear from him before that.”

I sighed, “Thank you.” We said our goodbyes and hung up. Now all that was left to do was wait. But each moment was an itch in the back of my head. Something must have happened. Why else would he not respond? Why would he just disappear like that? What if there had been an accident? What if he got into an accident on the way home. There were so many possibilities. What if he got mugged. Oh god, I was starting to sound ridiculous. But maybe there had been a car accident… no. 

Not allowing myself to continue thinking like that I packed up the food into containers. He can take it tomorrow for lunch. I’m not hungry anymore anyway. After I packed up the food I tidied up around the house, distracting myself with anything. The house was already clean but double-cleaning isn’t bad. He still wasn’t home after everything was cleaned up. I took to the couch, watching the door with a frown. No texts from him, and no texts from Joon. 

Constant fidgeting. What was I supposed to do? Glancing at the phone, I see that it’s now ten pm. Something was not right. With nothing else to do. I called his number again. 

It rang, no answer. It went to voicemail. “Yoongi where are you?” It was only the same exact thing I had been leaving in his messages before. It’s just that I knew he was having a rough time and I didn’t want to guilt-trip him. At this point though… “You’re worrying me and the others. Please just let us know you’re okay.” 

I hung up, wondering if he was even receiving them. Damnit. I threw my phone over on the side, it was only making it worse. Maybe I could just go to sleep? But then if something was really wrong… What if I wasn’t there when he needed me? What if...

With the click of the door opening and closing slowly I flipped my head down the hall. I swallowed, stunned at the sight of Yoongi. Who else would it be?

He was hunched over, hood over his head. A shadowed form in the single yellow light of the hall. My body found itself immediately at his side, scanning over him for any sign of injuries. What had happened? Why was he gone so long? Except I didn’t really know how to start the conversation with him. He just stood there, dropping his bag off by the door, sliding off his shoes. Silent. 

“Yoongi…” There was something. Something keeping him from talking to me. Something keeping me from really talking to him. It just felt wrong to ask. Because I already knew. Knew that he was struggling. I often tried to get him to open up to me. But he always did it in his own time. Over the course of our relationship, I had learned to let him come to me when he was ready. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, and I barely heard him, his face hidden away under a cap. 

I shook my head trying to lift his chin to me, but he didn’t budge. “Yoongi why didn’t you answer my calls?” I bit my lip, obviously, he didn’t want to talk that’s why.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice trembling. “I…” his hands clenched at the zipper of his coat. My mind was spinning. I didn’t know what to say to him. I wanted to be careful. I didn’t know where to start. 

“It’s okay…” I hummed, thinking. “What happened?” 

He swallowed, still not looking up at me, head hanging low. His thumb traced over the corner of the zipper sow. No response. Okay. That’s okay. My hand reached, outstretched, and offered for him to take it. 

His hand trembling, tentatively took hold of it. It was cold. It was cold outside after all. “Are you hurt?” Internally I rolled my eyes. Of course, he was hurt. Just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a physical injury. He shook his head. “Okay.” I smiled a little, squeezing his hand softly. 

“Kei…” He sighed, unable to say anything more than my name. 

Although he wasn’t giving me much to respond to I wanted to assure him that it would all be okay. That he would be okay. “It’s okay…” I repeated, pulling him by his hand into an embrace. He didn’t put up any fight, his weight falling over my shoulders as I pulled him close. “You can…” My sentence was immediately cut short by the muffled sound of his sobs into the fabric at my collarbone. My heart instantly broke. His soft sobs heightening to weeping, his arms squeezing me closer and closer. His fingers clung to my back, my shirt soon soaked. 

I too held him closer, rubbing softly at his nape. He didn’t let up, it was likely that he needed it. It had been coming a long time. But I wish he knew that it was okay to have come to me before. I was always here for him, and so were the others. 

Something had released in him, and even after the sobs turned into lone tears he hadn’t moved from my shoulder. And although my feet were beginning to ache from standing there for so long, I didn’t mind staying there for him. 

“Kei I’m so sorry.” He eventually whispered, his breaths still evening out. 

“Yoongi it’s okay.” I pressed against his cheek to lift his face up to where I could see. “What happened?” My eyes stayed softened, hoping that he knew I wasn’t mad. Why would I be? I was just worried. So I told him just that. “I was just worried about you, but you’re safe here.”

He sniffled, rubbing his fingers against his dampened eyes, lashes clinging together. “I just…” His face contorted once more and he shook his head. I remained, holding his hand and soothing the words out. “I had an awful day.” He shrugged, almost giving a halfhearted laugh. “I thought maybe because it was my birthday I could ignore the pent-up shit.” He shook his head clearing his throat. 

I nodded to show I was listening. He continued, “I thought that vlive would help.” He frowned, “and it did, but I was so busy I couldn’t stay on long, and…” he was starting to ramble. “And then after work, I just wanted to think for a little bit I had my phone shut off and it only made it worse. And then I realized that you were waiting for me and I felt like such a dick.” For the first time that night, he made eye contact, tears dripping down his cheeks. “And I really was a dick.” He cried, pulling me back into his arms. 

“Yoongi…” “I love you.” He squeezed tighter. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yoongi babe, seriously I know.” I kissed his neck where I was able to reach. “You don’t have to apologize. I just want you to tell me these things before you disappear. Yeah?” He nodded. “I want you to be safe…” it sounded silly, after all, he wasn’t a child. But bad things can happen to anyone. 

He hummed in response keeping me in his clutches, “Can we stay like this?” He asked quietly, and I nodded, taking a deep breath. 

“You must be tired though Yoons,” I pushed him off softly, “Why don’t we go to bed?” He took a shaky breath and nodded in agreement. He slid his jacket off and set it aside. I wanted to ask him more questions but I didn't want to pry. But had he cried while he was driving? I hoped not, hoped he hadn’t been alone either. 

We walked back together, me picking up my phone on the way back. I texted Joon, knowing that by now he’d probably be worried too. Yoongi looks around, “You didn’t do anything for me right?” He seemed to be more worried that he had missed it rather than him not wanting anything. 

I shrugged, “Dinner, but you can have it tomorrow.” He frowned as we left the living room and into the bedroom. “Do you want to open your gift now?” I whisper, looking at the box wrapped up. There were oil paints and special brushes. I remembered he wanted to experiment with them. 

“Mhm, yeah.” He sits on the edge of the bed, taking off his cap, hair falling over his forehead. His eyes were swollen, maybe I could get him a cold spoon. 

He took the box gently, sliding the silver ribbon away, and picking up the lid. I couldn’t help but smile, as he looked down on the tubes. 

His lip twitched, and he set the box to the side, holding out his hand to mine. He kept his eyes on the ground as he pulled me in by my hand, hugging me close all over again. “Thank you.” 

I pet the top of his head, with a soft smile, “Do you like them?” 

He shook his head into my neck. “Of course I do.” His breath was hot on my skin, and his body shook into another bout of tears. Pursing my lips, I leaned into him. 

Lightly teasing, “Well who would have thought paint could move you to tears.” I kissed the top of his head, and he continued crying. I knew he didn’t let it all out by the door. I was stuck standing again, caressing his back, soothing him until he calmed once more. 

“I love you.” He sighed, burying his face into his hands. 

My fingers brushed his hair back. “I love you too.” I finally sat down next to him, both of us lying back onto the bed. My eyes found his and my thumb brushed his cheek. “You can tell me all about it.” I wipe away a stray tear, “Or not, whatever you feel comfortable.” 

He let out a hum, pulling me into his chest, much warmer now after all the previous embraces. “Okay.”

Like this? This is a drabble from my A Year of Fics with Han series found here

[lochsides]

You Signed Up For This Review

If you're following me, you really did sign up for this review. I love that the title of this album lends itself to so many puns. Maybe that was the second indication that I would adore this album (the first being that its a Maisie Peters album). God, where do I even begin to review the pop mastery that is YSUFT? The album is both cohesive and chaotic in the best way possible. Maisie is one of those songwriters who approaches writing with quick wit and personality. That’s my biggest takeaway from this album. YSUFT has so much personality. It is very authentic while being refreshing. I’m so glad it finally here, to be consumed in all its glory. She really hit it out of the park and it was well worth the wait. There is not a single skip.

For those of you interested, below the cut you will find a review for each song. My favourites are 'I'm Trying (Not Friends)', ‘Love Him, I Don’t’, ‘Hollow’, ‘Villain’, ‘Brooklyn’, ‘Elvis Song’ and ‘Volcano’ — yes I know that’s half the album. This is my review and I make the rules. I've also included a little ranking at the very end.

You Signed Up For This — This song has so much main character energy. My favourite thing about Maisie as a songwriter is that her songwriting has a sense of humour to it. This song says so much in 3 minutes and 15 seconds. Its the perfect album opener, particularly for a debut album, but it's also a really good introduction to Maisie Peters for new listeners and old fans alike.

I'm Trying (Not Friends) — I can't decide what my favourite part of this song is: her sharp, witty songwriting or the cadence. This is what I mean when I say that the album is authentic while being refreshing. The cadence is unlike anything I’ve heard before, especially from Maisie, but the passive- aggressive lyrics are so Maisie. She has always had this unvarnished honesty to her songwriting that I really appreciate about her.

John Hughes Movie — Pop perfection! That's it, that's the review. I love the message of this song. It has a sense of self-worth and confidence despite being let down. And when I tell you I adore the fuck out of the bridge of 'JHM', it's an understatement. It was actually the perfect lead single for an album with so much main character energy.

Outdoor Pool — 'Outdoor Pool' is basically Fifteen (Maisie’s Version), when all you wanted was to be wanted. She really captured that in this song. I felt so sad listening to it because 15 really is such a delicate age. The music and production felt very cinematic to me and that really brought to life this story that she was telling. It really is almost Skins. I have so much affection for this song in like a big sister way.

Love Him, I Don't — Ooft, this song hurt my feelings. The production at the start with her ‘ooh’s was already chilling but then she hit me with ‘I wasn’t eating and you still said nothing’ and ‘guess that was my stubborn season’ and took me out. ‘Love Him, I Don’t’ is a song about toxicity and I’ve been there. I have friends who have been there. The lyric ‘what a waste of your twenties’ reminded me of a relationship my best friend was in. There are so many little details in this song that make it so relatable in a way the hurts. I love the melody of the pre-chorus and chorus, and then she goes and strips it back in the last verse. The whole song is a 5-star experience. It's so raw and the emotion in her vocal takes it to another level.

Psycho — Maisie Peters said feral girl summer and make it catchy. There are two bridges in this song. That should be enough to sell me, but she had to go and write ‘you made me feel so useful then so used.’ All in all though, ‘Psycho’ is probably my least favourite and that’s only because there are so many good songs on this album that outrank this.

Boy — I’m joining Maisie Peters’ fight to take away men’s rights because valid. It’s funny because I can hear Ed Sheeran’s writing in this song, mostly in the production. I love the tone throughout this song, but specifically when she says 'I can tell that you've never been hugged, boy.' It's sassy as fuck and I love that for her. My favourite aspect of 'Boy' is that the catchiest part, the one that is most likely to get stuck in our heads. is 'I can do better than this' and that feels very intentional, like a little message from Maisie reminding us that we can do better than The Boy ™️.

Hollow — 'Hollow' is such a good heartbreak ballad. It has all the makings of a great classic pop ballad, from the piano to the production to the poetic lyrics. Was it fair of her to put the lyrics 'now I'm a comma in your explanation of your learning curves and your mistakes' in the same song, in the same verse, as 'you're the one that got away and you got away with a lot' and then follow it up with a bridge of memories and 'I just miss my friend'? Let's discuss. I think the reason I, personally, love this song so much is the lyrical links to other songs like 'Villain' ('now you're kissing that girl I shouldn't worry about'), 'Volcano' ('you got away with it') and 'Tough Act' ('saying goodbye to a best friend' / 'drain it all 'til its all so hollow'). I love it when there are layers to a story.

Villain — I’ve had the hook of ‘Villain’ stuck in my head all morning. The way she explores rage in this song as something bitter that we all swallow but it burns the whole way down our throats, that dichotomy being explored through the subtlety of the production and the feral lyrics, is absolute genius. The song is told through the perspective of someone that feels wronged but they are still the villain of someone else's story and that's something I can personally relate to. I love how much angst is in the bridge, aided by the build up in the production, as she sings 'whole town's gonna hear how you messed me up.' Truly excellent songwriting.

Brooklyn — I think Maisie absolutely shines when writing songs about her sister. 'Personal Best' is my most played song on Apple Music, ever. 'Brooklyn' is almost like a continuation of that, or a deeper dive into her relationship with her sister. The storytelling aspect of this song feels very organic, like a friend telling you all about the adventure of their transatlantic trip over a cup of coffee. And the production is chef's kiss.

Elvis Song — I think this song is the one I connect with the most. The nostalgia factor always gets me and that's what this entire song is. Is the whole second verse a callout? Maybe. It's fine. If I end up calling the person this song makes me think about, it's Maisie's fault. My favourite lyric is 'I was scared to throw my heart off the edge, easier to tell myself we'd mess it up instead, so I left.' That line reads me, but it also captures the tone of regret that comes with reflection on something that ended. The production of 'Elvis Song' gives me old-flame montage vibes. I think it's the perfect candidate for an end-of-summer single.

Talking To Strangers — 'Talking To Strangers' is such a cute song. The whole concept of random people knowing such minute details about your life, that maybe even the people in your life would overlook, just because this one person that loves you so much can't help but tell everyone they meet about you is so fucking romantic. This is such a romantic song. It is 'this made me think of you' in a song except instead of telling the person you think of, you're telling literally everyone that it made you think of them.

Volcano — 'Volcano' is very reminiscent of Maisie's musical roots, which is why this song is one of my favourites. The lyrics are an actual gut punch and her vocal delivery only makes it hit harder. I think the lines that really get me each time are 'in the silence when you stood there, you just stood there' and the bits in the chorus where she sings 'and your friends said nothing' or 'and the world said nothing.' When you're in a situation that can be toxic, it fucking hurts when no one says anything. Then you look back on it and wonder 'why did no one stop you from absolutely breaking me?'

Tough Act — I think many of the songs on YUSFT accumulate to 'Tough Act' and placing it as the album closer makes so much sense in terms of closure from a lot of these stories that Maisie has shared with us. 'Tough Act' is acknowledgement and growth. I think this is best described in the lyric 'I got busy and you forgot how to miss me when I'm not much of who you grew up with.' She has come to terms with the fact that things have changed and this break up is just 'the bad part of the right thing to do.' The melody of this song is so beautiful and it's only heightened when those strings come in under the piano. Maisie's lovely vocals are the cherry on top.

Ranking the songs on this album was so difficult because each one is so outstanding. I think YSUFT is honestly one of the best pop debuts in recent history. She absolutely nailed it.

Love Him, I Don't

Volcano

Villain

I'm Trying (Not Friends)

Elvis Song

Hollow

Brooklyn

Outdoor Pool

Tough Act

You Signed Up For This

Talking To Strangers

John Hughes Movie

Boy

Psycho