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nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

i wish i could disappear

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, feelings of anxiety due to social media harassment, invasion of privacy that border on stalking

recommended listening: brutal | olivia rodrigo

series masterpost: here

a/n: and we're off to the races!! i love this album and olivia so much. there's a shoutout to goon by tobias jesso jr. in here bc it's my favourite album to cry to lmao (highly recommend giving it a listen!). i'm on the fence about this one but am posting it anyways because i don't think i can make it any better

How the fuck do people find your social media?

All of your accounts are private and Kevin makes sure to never tag you on the rare occasion he posts a picture of the two of you together. The wives and girlfriends who have public accounts make sure to never post about you, and you’re careful not to comment on posts often. You’re a private person and though you understand that due to the nature of your relationship with Kevin you intrigue some fans, you don’t want to give them more than you have to.

Despite making no attempt to open up to the public or media, every day you wake up with hundreds of follow requests from complete strangers. At first it was a little exciting knowing that people were curious about your life but after years of the same routine it’s become draining. It takes you nearly twenty minutes each day to weed through them and accept only the people you know personally. Kevin doesn’t actually know how many people want to catch a glimpse of your daily life because you do your best to keep it from him. Knowing would only bring him stress, and you want him to be able to focus on winning games and loving you with his entire heart.

☼☼☼☼

The phone on your desk rings loudly, pulling your attention away from the computer screen that has way too many numbers on it for your liking. The finance department needed someone to proof their audit before sending it away and since you’re the only one in human relations that has a business degree the job landed on your shoulders. Eager to take a break, you pick it up and press the receiver against your ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side laughs gently, but you immediately know it’s Kevin. “Hi sweetheart,” he says warmly, “How’s work?”

“Fine I guess. It’s work, Kev. Nothing terribly exciting happens here,” you explain but continue to fill him in on all the coffee pot gossip you got this morning. Kevin listens as you complain about forgetting your lunch on the counter and chuckles at how upset the situation makes you.

“What if I told you I’m outside your window with a burrito bowl?”

Excited at the possibility of seeing your boyfriend before dinnertime, you whip towards the window and spot Kevin on the sidewalk, waving like an idiot despite knowing your office is on the fifth floor. You hang up quickly after telling him you’ll be down in two minutes and let the receptionist know you’re stepping out for lunch. There’s a line for the elevator so you head to the stairwell, taking them two at a time in your haste. You’re crossing the street to the small park where Kevin has set up a picnic before your co-workers are even out the door.

You plop down on the blanket beside Kevin and lean into him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before passing you the food he brought. You take a bite, sighing at the taste. Kevin knows you better than you know yourself and knew exactly what to get that would satisfy your mounting hunger.

“Thanks babe,” you smile, holding up your fork and offering him a bite. He takes it graciously but makes a face. “What’s the matter?” you laugh as you take the utensil back.

“I fucking hate avocado.”

The two of you eat in relative silence, speaking only when you remember a detail from your morning. Kevin tells you about the drills he’s going to lead at practice in the afternoon and what he plans on cooking for dinner since he’ll be home before you. You insist you can whip something up when you get home but Kevin shakes his head. He reminds you that relationships are give and take, and that you’ve made dinner the past three nights because he had a string of games. You manage to reach a compromise that has you doing the dishes before you have to return to work.

Kevin insists on walking you back to your office even though you protest vehemently. Your relationship is far from secret, and has been the topic of workplace gossip more times than you can count, but after five years you’ve learned to ignore most of it. However, you don’t want your co-workers to think you flaunt your NHL player boyfriend to prove you’re better than them. They all love Kevin, and a couple of them congratulate him on last night’s goal as he follows you down the hall. A few of the newer hires stare in awe and shake his hand, completely blown away that one of Philadelphia’s biggest stars is asking how they like their jobs.

“Pretty soon they’re going to approach you to do PR for us,” you chuckle as you flip the light on and close the door of your office.

His laughter echoes off the walls as a pair of strong arms find a home around your waist. “It would be kind of fun to hear myself crush those radio commercials.”

“Since when do you listen to the radio?”

“Checkmate,” Kevin sighs, pulling you closer. He kisses you quickly, not wanting to give a show to anyone who could be walking past, but it still sends you reeling. You don’t want him to pull away and kiss him again.

You get your way for a few more moments and then Kevin’s leaving with a promise to not burn the house down and wishes for a good rest of the day. Focussed on giving the audit its final once-over you don’t bother pulling your phone from the drawer you had placed it in when you got to work that morning. You turn up the small radio at the corner of your desk and get to work scanning the document for errors. There’s a mistake halfway through that skews the rest of the data and fixing it takes a bit of time, but it isn’t a huge deal. You have nothing else to do except answer a few emails and organize meetings for after the weekend.

An hour or so later you’ve completed all your tasks and debate what to do. It’s too early to leave for the day, so you decide to kill time by checking your phone. You’re expecting a few notifications, perhaps two or three memes in the group chat you share with your friends, but not the hundreds that greet you.

The majority of them are instagram notifications, and assuming they’re just more fans requesting a follow you ignore them, instead heading to your text messages. There’s a picture from Kevin of a dog he found walking home and another from your mom asking why you haven’t called home in a few weeks. However the one from Claude’s wife is the one that piques your curiosity.

Just a heads up that someone posted a pic of you and Kev to one of those stupid wag pages. I filed a request for Instagram to take it down but it’s gotten a lot of traction. Sorry :((

Your heartbeat increases rapidly and a million thoughts fly through your head at a rapid speed. Fingers shaking, you respond with a thanks and open up the dreaded app. You don’t see it immediately, your feed being full of photos belonging to friends and family, but it’s in your messages almost two hundred times. Many of them have text attached and you know there will be a comment about your relationship regardless of which one you open.

Tapping on the most recent message you brace yourself for the worst. The new window opens a photo someone took of you and Kevin while eating lunch in the park across from your office not even three hours prior. It’s grainy and the camera angle is strange, but you’re eating and Kevin is looking somewhere out of frame. The accompanying caption reads Kev and his girlfriend out for lunch today! Follow @philllywagupdates for more :).

You let out a sigh of relief – it could have been a lot worse. Personal pictures of yourself have made it onto pages like that before and most of them they’re paired with mean-spirited captions about your appearance or other trivial matters. Assuming you’re in the clear, you head back to the page of the original message to thank the person for bringing the post to your attention. However, the message accompanying the post is anything but positive.

He can’t even fucking look at you. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you

The blood in your veins runs cold. You know it’s not true – Kevin’s made it clear you’re the one and truthfully you’re just waiting for a ring – but it doesn’t stop the sting you feel. What could possess someone to say such horrible things? You decide not to respond despite, possibly opening another can of worms with the seen function, and close the app. Leaning back in your office chair you focus on anything but your phone, looking out the window at passersby while regaining your breath. It works for a while, but eventually not knowing what others said eats away at you. You go through every single message to see hundreds of similar comments to the first, with only a few saying they’re glad you’re happy or how posting the picture is a violation of your privacy.

By the time you’re finished your spirit has been crushed. However, it’s also an acceptable time to start the weekend – at least no one in the office will have to see you cry. Things are hastily packed into your bag and you wave a few quick goodbyes before once again taking the stairs. You curse yourself for deciding to walk to work that morning and set off in the direction of home wiping away tears. The last thing you need right now is for someone to recognize you, but you have to get home. Tobias Jesso Jr plays at much too loud a volume through your headphones and Kevin will most certainly remind you it’s bad for your hearing, but the melancholy piano riffs of Goon overpower the thoughts swirling around your head.

Do people really feel that way about me?

Are my friends just too nice to stop inviting me places?

Does Kevin really feel trapped?

Hundreds of similar sentiments and situations cross your mind as you stumble through the streets of downtown Philadelphia, but you force them as far back as possible before opening the door to the apartment you share with Kevin. Hoping to slip inside undetected, you take your shoes off slowly and throw your jacket on the end table instead of hanging it in the closet. Your plan fails somehow and Kevin hears you, greeting you in a goofy apron covered in flour.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, but it drops once your eyes meet and he sees the hurt on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, trying to step around him in pursuit of the bathroom.

Kevin doesn’t buy it and sees right through your feeble words. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset. If you don’t want to talk now that’s fine, but I think you should get it off your chest.”

You know he’s right, but you also know you can’t tell him the true cause of your despair. “Just some work stuff,” you sigh. “The audit got all fucked up and I had to fix it even though it’s not my job.”

It’s not technically a lie, which makes you feel better, and Kevin buys it. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips in sympathy. “Go take a shower and the gnocchi should be ready by the time you’re done. We can spend the night cuddling on the couch.”

“And watching Selling Sunset?”

“We can watch whatever you want sweetheart,” he chuckles. You part from him with a final kiss and head to the bathroom. Hopefully the steam from the water will carry away the negativity brought on by that damn post.

☼☼☼☼

Time passes but the hateful comments on social media don’t stop. In fact, you’re pretty sure they get worse. It’s so bad that you’ve deleted every app except facebook because you need it for work. Kevin doesn’t notice your abstinence from social media, but he picks up on how you spend more time criticizing yourself or staring off into space. When he pushes you either brush him off or feed some bullshit excuse about how work is getting you down. You know he doesn’t believe you but trusts you enough to come to him when you’re ready to talk.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to tell Kevin what’s been going on. There’s been scrutiny from social media before, when you first started dating, but it quieted down after the initial media frenzy. He helped you through that but it’s different this time around. Never before have you had strangers tell you your life is worthless or that your boyfriend should end your relationship. Some of the other wags notice your absence on instagram but chalk it up to you just taking a break. They reach out via the group chat and send wishes to see you at the next home game. It’s nice to know they care, but the voice in your head that has grown much larger in recent weeks tells you they don’t truly mean it. This leads you to decline the invite as politely as possible, citing extended work hours for your absence. In reality you’re too anxious to be anywhere that isn’t home or work, petrified someone is going to post something that will add fuel to the flames of those who interrogate you.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and you’re leaving the office early once again. There’s a small craft exhibition taking place around the corner from work and today is the last day it’s open. You had been meaning to go all week, hoping to find something small to add to Kevin’s birthday gift. As you step out of the building there’s a small group of young women, who don’t look old enough to have graduated college, standing off to the side. It fills you with dread, worried that somehow someone found out where you work and the insults are going to start occurring verbally, but you force yourself to be rational. You work fairly close to one of the artsier districts in the city and it’s more than likely they just want to find a cute mural to take pictures in front of.

You pass by and swear you hear them snicker, but you remind yourself you’ve just been jumpy lately. When they peel from their place on the wall and follow behind at a distance you think the coincidences are running out. It seems a little too strange how their movements line up with yours, and you go down a few winding side streets in an attempt to lose them. Part of you feels ridiculous because what group of barely legal girls would track a full-blown adult around a city of nearly two million people, but your life is currently strange enough you can’t be sure. They don’t follow you, and by the time you reach the market your heart rate has returned to normal.

The first few stalls have little to catch your eye, but a few rows in you find a leatherworker who makes adorable wallets. Kevin’s is ridiculously old and falling apart at the seams – his mom bought it for him before the two of you got together. You think a new one will make a perfect addition to the concert tickets you already bought and browse the table for something simple and elegant. A deep brown one with tan braiding around the edges catches your eye and you know it’s the one for Kevin. Checking the price to make sure you have enough cash in your wallet, you approach the shop owner to purchase. The older man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes as he thanks you for purchasing from him.

“No, thank you for making something so beautiful!” you gush. “My boyfriend is going to love it.”

It’s then you hear it – snickering accompanied by the click of a camera. You look over your shoulder to see the same group of girls from before laughing as they huddle over a cell phone, no doubt already starting to broadcast the photo across the internet. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Those girls don’t deserve to see their mission accomplished, but the longer they laugh at you the harder it is to swallow your feelings.

Head held high, you thank the owner one more time before holding your head high and walking past the group. The only way out is past them so you hold your breath and pray they don’t notice you. Unfortunately you aren’t that lucky, and one of them looks up just as you come into earshot.

“If Kevin doesn’t leave you after that sorry excuse for a gift I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she sneers.

Another one chimes in, “You’re honestly so pathetic.” They all cackle in amusement, and you speed up. The tears flow freely now, and you call an uber even though it will be a ridiculous amount of money. You just want to get home.

The uber driver doesn’t say anything when you get in, though you know it’s strange to be bawling your eyes out at four in the afternoon. You can’t help it – weeks of keeping all the hate to yourself finally got to you and being followed with the sole intent of ridicule is the final straw. At one red light he silently passes you a box of tissues, which you accept gratefully.

Luckily the lobby of your apartment complex is empty and you manage to get to your floor without encountering a familiar face. There’s a few hours until Kevin gets home from his final roadtrip of the season, and if you play your cards right you can get all the tears out and be as normal as possible before he comes through the door. You don’t even bother to put anything away, just head straight to the bathroom to slump against the tub. Sobs rack your body and you lose all sense of time. All you can feel is the hurt you’ve been holding in releasing itself and soaking the material of your blouse.

Kevin finds you laying in the position hours later. He tripped over your shoes coming in the door and immediately knew something was wrong – you always place them neatly on the rack in the closet upon arriving home. Peering through the quiet house for a hint at where you are, he sees the bathroom light on and makes a beeline for the room. It breaks his heart to see you like this, and even more so because he doesn’t know what spurred it on.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he coos, maneuvering his body to sit beside you and pull you into his lap. “What’s the matter?”

You bury your head in his shoulder and clutch the material of his dress shirt as you cry harder at the sound of his voice. Kevin takes your reaction in stride, rubbing circles on your back and working on evening out your breath. He doesn’t pressure you to speak and provides the stability you desperately crave as the world around you spins. An unknown amount of time passes before your tears run out, but spend it all on the bathroom floor curled into Kevin.

“I guess I should have told you sooner,” you mumble, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”

Concern laces Kevin’s features and his eyebrows knit together. “Tell me what?”

“I, uh, have been the subject of some internet hate for the past little bit,” you say sheepishly. It feels stupid to not have told him now, but you can’t change that. “But you were really busy with the season and I wanted to make sure your head was completely focused on the game so I just dealt with it myself. I deleted the apps and tried my best to go about my life. And then today after work I was followed by some people and they said some really hurtful stuff and shit became a little too real.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s your turn to be confused. “Why are you sorry Kev? You're Not the one sending me death threats.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair back into your ponytail. “Maybe not, but I still made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. What kind of partner am I?”

“The best one,” you say confidently. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just want to forget about it right now. Can we just disappear for a little bit?”

Kevin wraps his arms around you tighter, as if he can engulf you to protect from the cruel outside world. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to get out of the city for a bit if you want, or just spend the next few days here away from prying eyes.”

“I love you.”

You say it because you mean it, and if you could scream it from the rooftops you would. Kevin is incredibly easy to love, even when you make it difficult for him to love you back. You know another much longer conversation is coming about everything that has happened recently because communication is the only way to solve problems and Kevin deserves that, but you’re thankful he’s willing to put it to rest for a few more moments.

He cracks a smile for the first time since he’s been home and kisses the crown of your head. “I love you too sweetheart,” he whispers, “Always and forever.”

Things are far from over and though you still never want to show your face in public ever again, you know that Kevin is going to do whatever he can to make things better and that’s enough for you.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @ricohenrique @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice @2manytabsopen if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#i don't love this but here it is!!!#one day i'll like the stories i write #kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #sour

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bigwhispersbluebird · 3 years

Text

Look into my eyes, and lie

Synopsis: Taehyung and you have been dating for years, serious enough to announce it publicly. Everything was perfect until he starts ignoring you and the only thing that breaks the silence is a rumour that might be the end of this relationship as you know it.

Angst, written from OC's perspective

Warnings: Insinuation of cheating

Author's Note: This will be a two-shot, hopefully.

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing off the hook. Even though I usually turn it to silent before sleeping but last night, I had consciously kept it on the highest volume in hopes that he would call.

Taehyung and I had met when my company was contracted to serve as publicists of Bangtan. Being attracted to one of the members went beyond every code of ethic that I had etched in my brain but there is little to be done when the only thing keeping you sane is a certain boxy smile and its owner's persistence. After a couple years of dating, Taehyung wanted to make it official by announcing it to ARMY, first and foremost. That was when the realisation had hit me that this relationship meant as much to him as it did to me.

While the media had tried to turn the situation against BTS, it was the faith and support of ARMY that helped in finding stability and an easy way through it all. Things had been great since then.

Until now.

Taehyung was out of reach, out of contact for days. Eventhough he had always made time before or atleast squeezed in a call, he had not even bothered to reply to my texts for days. More than angry or upset, it was worry that overtook my senses.

"Perhaps he was busy and finally got time", I thought suddenly when the phone rang again.

I sprang up and immediately started searching for it; hands splayed on the mattress, reaching out for him.

Although, as soon as I saw the notifications, my heart dropped. It was a bunch of calls from my company and hundreds of Twitter notifications. This could only mean one thing: another rumour or scandal.

I unlocked my phone, swiping left on all the notifications, searching for only one that I was looking for. But it wasn't there.

However, there was a message from Namjoon. Simple yet something that scared me to bits.

"I am sorry. Talk to me whenever you can."

What was he sorry for?

I tentatively opened Twitter, and soon I wished I hadn't. Ignorance is bliss and I would give anything to be the fool I was a few seconds ago still waiting on a call from the only person who had the power to shatter me like he just did.

"BTS's Taehyung spotted with a blond through the back alley of his private apartment. Unless Y/N has suddenly had a change of style, we smell something fishy."

Attached was a blurred shot taken through night vision camera. And if I hadn't memorized all the contours of his body, I would have second guessed who that person was for the sake of my sanity. However, one look and I knew that it was him. His arms around the waist of a blond I hadn't seen before. Her face was not visible but she seemed too close to him for my liking.

No, Y/N! Stop acting all paranoid. You know he is not like that. There must definitely be a reason for this image and the situation. And just because someone calls it an affair, doesn't mean it has to be. He would never disrespect you like that. Get a grip.

Repeating the same words in my head, I got up from my bed, ignoring the notifications that were still chiming on my phone. I almost believed what I was telling myself but the lack of explanation on his behalf made me question myself.

Shouldn't he have called me after seeing this? After knowing how it would affect me? Or maybe it is true and he doesn't have the nerve to accept it? Or perhaps, it is too much of bullshit for him to pay attention to it?

Questions after questions popped in my head as I got dressed for work, maybe he would drop by there? Amongst it all, the thing that was worrying me more was not the picture or the news but his absence from my life for so long that he hadn't even bothered replying to me. Whatever happened or didn't happen was about the night before so what was the reason of his anger before that?

Before leaving, I unplug my phone from the charger and once again scrolled through all the notifications. Messages from my friends, even his friends but none from him.

Frustrated, I climb into my car and turn on the music at the highest volume, hoping it would quiet down my brain.

*****

"Everything that has been reported is nothing but a misunderstanding and yet another manipulation of a simple situation to relay a story of your choice. Taehyung and I are still together and very happy and have only to be grateful to our fans that have believed us without reason. He is busy with his work and I am indulged in mine but please don't worry about us."

I turned off the television after watching myself strut inside the office building after giving a speech I wish I had believed with as much confidence as I had faked. But something had to be done about the reporters that had not moved from the building for the last four days. What didn't help the case was that his label had not come out with ANY statement nor were we spotted together. Everyone had assumed that we had broken up after Taehyung cheated. No matter what, I would not let a scandal tarnish his career.

My anger filled speech could not be nitpicked by even the most observant of people. That is what you get after years of being famous and now the head of the leading artist representative label.

But as I sat in my office room, overlooking the city, I could not mute the sound of my heart breaking.

I glanced at the frame on my desk. A picture we had taken on our trip to Rome. A simple one of us on the bike we had rented. Me holding on to his waist and him holding on to me, genuine smiles painted on our lips.

When did everything go so wrong?

I didn't even notice I was crying until my secretary knocked on the door, opening it simultaneously in urgency but soon halting noticing my state.

"It is okay, Kai", I waved at him, wiping at my face with the other.

"Um, apologies ma'am but Mr Taehyung is waiting for you."

My mind went numb. I didn't expect him to come anymore. Not after he had ignored my existence for so long now, acting like we meant nothing.

But he was here. He was here and I wish I had the courage to turn him away but I did not. I wanted to see him. Desperately.

Unable to voice out my thoughts, I just nodded at Kai who understood as he walked out, probably to lead him inside.

I immediately glanced at the mirror on the wall, my self respect intact enough to not let him know how much his indifference had hurt me. I would never give anyone that satisfaction.

But as he walked into the room, his familiar scent overtaking everything reminding me how every part of my own office was full of him. The picture on my desk, his guitar leaning on the farther wall, my side table still full of the lavenders he had bought me a month before, the coat hanger where his baseball cap still stands when we decided to leave our disguises and go on a sudden date. And well me, his from every aspect, body and soul. My heart almost stopped and my brain lost all reasons it had to put up a facade. I just wanted to run to him.

But all the emotions made me so exhausted that I kept sitting there, planted as if I would combust into ashes if I tried moving.

So I stayed, looking at him. Dressed like his usual self, a plain shirt with flared pants and a vitange coat. His hair styled like he had come straight here from work. He must have, I realized as I noticed what time it was.

"Tae...", I tried breaking the silence but all that came out was a meek croak. Clearing my throat, I tried again. "You came here from work?". Again, silence.

"Were you crying?", he said. His expressions stoic but worry shining from his voice and I wanted to burst into tears but I only had my dignity to hold onto right now.

"Not really. Kinda sick I guess so I might look red but I am fine".

I knew he didn't believe me but thankfully he let me live it down.

Moving forwards, he tentatively sat in the chair placed opposite mine and I knew how neither of us failed to realize how foreign that action was when usually he would grab a chair and place it right beside mine, pulling me closer to him until I was between his knees or how he would settle himself on the sofa and pat on it and I would rush to occupy the space beside him.

I tried to swallow another lump forming in my throat. This was his way of showing that things were different. And I wanted to know why. Was it someone else? Or did we just reach the end and I didn't see it coming?

I watched him as he looked down, fumbling with the belt of his coat, which he had not taken off, not expecting to stay long. His face which was always stoic failed to hide how desperately he was searching for words to make everything go away.

I saw it too and it was the only reason why I fought through all my resolve and spoke, not bothering to hide how vulnerable I felt.

"Taehyung, I don't want any explanations", I noticed as his eyes met mine, slowly, all his attention on me, "I don't want to know anything that happened before or anything that happened after you stopped talking to me". I stopped, my heart beating so fast I could hear it thump in my ears. His eyes fixated on me, his expression mimicking mine- awaiting what I would say next.

"Just tell me they lied", I spoke but it came out as a plea, my voice cracking as I tried to maintain eye contact with him through all the tears that were now brimming my eyes. "Tell me that nothing happened between you and the woman in that picture. Just say that and I will never talk about this again. I'll forget that these last few weeks ever occurred in our lives."

Taehyung's eyes did not leave mine, his expression unreadable now. As I continued speaking, his head fell low, trying to hide the tears that were in his eyes too.

"Tell me and I will take your word over everything. Please," I begged, " Please...".

I did not have the energy to continue as emotions overtook me and I helplessly sobbed, my entire body shaking and tears chasing each other down my cheeks. I covered my face with my hands, crying into my palms until I felt familiar warm hands on mine, pulling them to reveal my face.

My teary eyes met his and before I could try to understand what everything meant, he broke the silence, saying each word without breaking eye contact so I could believe it, "They lied. I can't...I didn't cheat on you...".

As soon as his words reached me, my eyes failing to find a lie, I couldn't hold it in as I burst into tears throwing myself in his arms which were quick to catch me, enveloping around my body tightly showing that he won't let go.

So I cried into him while I felt his own tears dropping on my shoulders.

Nothing mattered. Neither the several days of not talking, nor the reports pouring in since that night. I knew that he was not lying and that was enough to make me let go of everything else.

For now.

#bts #bts reactions #bangtan #namjoon #kim namjoon #fanfic #fic #canon #angst #kim taehyung #v #taehyung #reader #oc x canon

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

Leviathan's Odyssey 7:

Flood

Mammon: Levi!!

*Mammon is the first to leap forward and run across the beach, faster than Lucifer could stop him. His enthusiasm, however, seems to wind down considerably when his brother doesn’t make any move to meet him… and then he retreats back to the others when a massive, serpentine head rises out from the water by the shore. This new beast is not quite as large as the one from before (which likely was Levi himself in some kind of horrific second form) but it could still swallow any one of brothers whole and looks very hungry and eager to do so… particularly when six other heads just like it come up to join the fun*

*Levi stops the clamoring hissing of the monstrous serpent with only the raise of a hand, leaving Lucifer to assume whatever it is, must be completely under his thrall… an impressive feat for a creature that size…*

Levi: This is Lotan. Don't mind him.

*as their formerly missing brother starts his stride across the beach, a growing knot begins to twist in the pit of the eldest’s stomach… The kind of feeling one gets when they’ve realized that they’re out of their element... but they’re up against someone else who very much is. Fighting to keep a composed demeanor, he waits until Levi’s right in front of them before responding*

Lucifer: You look well, Levi... I’m glad. Though I’m surprised you've turned up here of all places...

*Leviathan, maybe amused by the statement, sticks the end of his trident into the ground by his feet before smiling*

Levi: Same goes for you, but this is just my first stop. *he shrugs nonchalantly, glancing all his brothers over until his eyes land on… well, a new face*

Levi: And what’s that thing...?

*Lucifer follows his eyeline to baby Satan, currently peeking his blonde head out from the safety of his shirt. He had almost forgotten he was still holding him...*

Lucifer: Oh, well… I suppose this is your new brother…

Levi: You stole a kid??

Lucifer: Well, no. He’s uh... it’s complicated.

*Levi looks a tad confused but leans down to get a better look at the boy. Again, much to Lucifer’s surprise, their seemingly fearless child attempts to hide his face back into the fabric…*

Levi: Huh. Looks like your guppy’s shy. *he flashes yet another shark-toothed grin… where he had developed such a maw is a mystery to Lucifer… None of his brothers' teeth get that sharp*

Lucifer: He’s not usually… *one of his hands instinctively goes to shield Satan’s head. A part of him hopes that it’s only Levi’s appearance that he finds scary… but a greater part of him fears there’s more to it than that…*

*it doesn’t take Levi long to look past Satan and back to the others, all of whom are still grappling somewhere between a state of shock and guilt*

Levi: Well. I’m happy you all found each other. Up here... *they watch for a moment as his slitted eyes narrow slightly...*

Levi: ...without me.

*Mammon is again the first to step forward, putting a hand over his own chest*

Mammon: I looked for ya when we-

*he could continue but Levi cuts him off with a sudden spike in volume, picking his trident back up from the sand*

Levi: -and just look at the house you got! *he lifts the weapon over to the Demon Lord’s villa, sitting perched on a scenic hill above the beach* Doesn’t it look just… nice?

*the twisting in Lucifer’s gut is only getting worse… he doesn’t like where this is going…*

Lucifer: The house isn't ours, Leviathan… We’re borrowing it. We live somewhere farther inland...

*the way that Levi’s eyebrows raise only further cement his fears… For a moment, he swears he sees something flash in his eyes but it's gone too fast to identify it…*

Levi: So that means you have two then?

*they all watch in confusion as he bends down to scoop some sand between his fingers… letting the white grains slip slowly from his grasp*

Lucifer: Two…? Two what?

Levi: Two territories. On dry land. *Levi watches the sand pour to the ground, seemingly mesmerized by how it falls, before returning back to his brothers*

Levi: I bet that really must be nice. Really… really nice. *Lucifer sees the look in his eye change again, but this time the darkness lingers… radiating what he can only describe as pure malice and envy*

Levi: But that doesn’t surprise me. You guys have always had it better than I have…

Mammon: Huh..? *Mammon raises an eyebrow, apparently blindsided by his comment* What the hell are ya talkin about, Levi?

*Lucifer can’t help but shoot a look at him, even for the innocent question. There’s something very different about the Levi before them right now… They shouldn’t risk giving him ammunition. Unfortunately, Levi’s eyes only narrow again but this time into deadly thin slits*

Levi: What am I talking about? Isn’t it obvious?? Or are you still just as dumb as ever, Mammon? *Levi sweeps his trident out to the side, baring his pointed teeth in a silent snarl*

Levi: All of you had it so much better in the Celestial Realm than I did! Mr. “Always Perfect” Lucifer and his stupid little lapdog, Mammon! Oh how everybody looked up to you! *he jerks his trident towards a frightened Asmodeus, the anger in his eyes only intensifying*

Levi: And then there’s you! Always sneaking out to parties and sleeping who knows where, but were you ever cast out for it?? No! Because you’d always go crying to Lucifer to get your way!!

Lucifer: That’s enough, Levi-!

*Leviathan’s tail lashes the beach sand, kicking up a cloud of white behind him and they hear the low hiss of the seven-headed beast still very much watching them…*

Levi: Shut up! I’m not done!! *his trident next jerks towards Beel and Belphie, the older of whom currently pushing the younger behind his back defensively*

Levi: And then there’s you two! Who could ever get enough of hearing how everybody loved the twins?? “Did you see what Beel did today?” “Hasn’t he gotten so big?” “He’s a shoe-in for seraphim for sure!” And if you had just stayed in your goddamn place, Belphie, then NONE OF US WOULD EVEN BE HERE RIGHT NOW!!!

Lucifer: LEVIATHAN, I SAID ENOUGH!! *Lucifer’s beach clothes quickly evaporate as they get replaced by his demon form, black wings towering high above his head, but Levi remains undaunted*

Levi: AND I TOLD YOU TO SHUT!! UP!!!

*the sky above them darkens as growing clouds bloat out the artificial sun, the sheer intensity of Levi’s rage apparently beginning to disturb the sea around them. The waves suddenly start getting choppy, bubbling up and crashing into each other furiously...*

*for a moment, Lucifer is astounded how Levi’s emotions alone could have such an effect on the currents, but that’s only until he looks a little closer… It’s no current or wind changing the waters, it's a horde of creatures struggling for space above the water’s surface: tails, fins, tentacles, and heads of all shapes and sizes breaching the formally calm seas to make their presence known. In a matter of moments, they find themselves outnumbered not by the tens or hundreds, but by the thousands… An ocean’s worth of monsters calling for their blood from across the shore…*

*as the brothers realize what they must be seeing, a collective horror casts over them… Levi himself takes a few deep breaths and raises his trident back to the army, quieting his troops once more, but they remain near the surface to watch for his orders. Dormant, but far from absent in their conflict… A tense silence hangs in the air but Lucifer is the first to break it with a quiet, harsh whisper*

Lucifer: Leviathan… What is the meaning of this? What are these things and why are you here?

*Levi slowly lowers his trident and glares back at his brother with a look that’s not smug, nor boastful. It holds nothing but anger and contempt for him and seemingly everyone around him...*

Levi: Shouldn’t it be obvious, Lucifer? I’m still a general, aren’t I? So what if my men look a little different now... *he digs the end of his trident into the sand, keeping his head aloft in a way Lucifer had only seen him do on the battlefield*

Levi: I want better land. I’m here for more territory and I’m starting with this beach. *though his voice is assured and commanding, Lucifer narrows his eyes at him just as Levi had done before*

Lucifer: No. I can’t let you do that. *Levi, of course, doesn’t back down for a second*

Levi: Well, too bad it wasn’t a request.

Lucifer: This beach and the land it’s attached to are all property of the Devildom and its ruler, Lord Diavolo. I cannot and will not just let you take it. *Lucifer’s words actually seem to give Levi a pause for thought, but more out of surprise than anything*

Levi: Wait, did you just say “Lord” Diavolo…? *he thinks for a moment before a smile finally comes back to his face, though this time with an air of mockery* Did you just call the Prince by his title? Don’t tell me you’re his lackey now, are you…??

*Lucifer, to his credit, doesn’t flinch or look away… but he doesn’t look particularly happy either*

Lucifer: I remain my own man, as I’ve always been… But I owe my loyalty to the Prince and I will oversee his interests as I see fit. *it seems regardless of his answer, Leviathan still snorts at him*

Levi: So you are!! And here I thought I’d never see you take a knee to a demon! Just how low have you sunk now, huh? *Lucifer opens his mouth to respond, but Mammon beats him to the punch*

Mammon: Would it kill ya to just shut up already, Levi?? We ain’t just gonna let ya take what you want! *despite his brother’s outburst, Levi only continues to look amused*

Levi: And you really think you can stop me?

*he raises his trident once more and an unearthly chorus is sung from the waves, a deadly hum of hissing and growls emitting from his waiting “soldiers,” itching to attack on his say so. Many most likely already having the reach or capability to pluck the other demons from the sands where they stand*

Levi: … you and what army?

*Mammon’s silence appears to be his answer as he glances anxiously to Lucifer… the rest of his brothers doing the same. In times like these, they all turn to the eldest to come up with a plan, but it seems that this time, Lucifer finds himself with limited options… He takes a moment to study his family’s faces - then the savage crowd of beasts surrounding them - with an expression that’s near unreadable…*

Lucifer: … I can call Lord Diavolo from here. What are your demands?

*there’s a sharp intake of breath from his brothers, not a one expecting him seemingly to back down so quickly*

Mammon: What?!

Asmo: Lucifer?? You can’t be serious!! *though his brothers are stunned, Lucifer doesn’t take his eyes off of Levi while still maintaining his stoic expression*

Lucifer: If this is the bed he wants to lie in, then so be it…

*he and Levi glare at each other momentarily, before the other finally says something in response*

Levi: Tell your prince that I’ll start flooding Devildom within the next twenty minutes… If he hands over his territory willingly, then I’ll let him evacuate anyone living on it. Otherwise, it makes no difference to me.

Lucifer: If that’s really what you want… But Levi? *Lucifer waits until he has his full attention to make his point clear… His expression may have even softened some… Is it with worry? Maybe even disappointment?*

Lucifer: Don’t do anything you may regret…

*Leviathan looks at him for a few seconds more, before turning his back to them entirely*

Levi: … You have my demands, don’t you? *as he starts to walk away, Lucifer says something else just barely loud enough for him to hear*

Lucifer: You’ve changed… Leviathan.

*for a split second, Levi’s steps falter… but he doesn’t stop nor turn back to respond*

Levi: I’m just who I need to be… Lucifer.

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

#don't mind me #just doing my celebratory angst dance over here #its finally happening #at long last #so exicted #obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me hc #obey me scenarios #obey me fic

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wickedscribbles · 3 years

Text

Come What May, Chapter Two

A/N: Enjoy! You can find up to Chapter 9 on my Ao3 if you get antsy for more; my username is just WickedScribbles. :)

Masterlist

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Original Female Character (Second Person Perspective)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: female masturbation, male masturbation, first kisses, admission of feelings, Obi-Wan ain’t give a fuck he’s getting some, that’s not how the Force works, discussion of the Jedi Code, Obi-Wan is a switch and you can’t change my mind, come marking

Word Count: 4.9 K

After the awkward ship ride home to Coruscant, Master Obi-Wan seems to make it his mission to stay as far away from you as possible. In the Temple, this isn't hard to do; most floors and rooms were meant to hold dozens, if not hundreds of people, and Obi-Wan knows its halls better than most.

It’s admirable, how he’s managed to vanish in a place that adores him so much. Have you seen Master Obi-Wan? is always followed by, Oh, you just missed him or No, I haven’t seen him. The most you’ve been able to see in weeks is the edge of his cloak slipping around a corner. A startled look over his shoulder as he flees the gardens, realizing that you’re meditating there, too. If you’re both attending a council meeting, you swear he ignores you so vehemently that you start to doubt your own existence.

And his life Force? Forget about it. He's shoved it down so tightly that he might as well not exist to you. You find yourself pining for it. If he's determined to never interact with you again, you had hoped to at least feel his Force touch yours, even in a friendly way. It's almost as if he yanked a part of your own essence away when he withdrew that night in Odryn. Something feels missing from you. In the mess hall, you start asking for cinnamon tea. It tastes flavorless.

In some ironic twist, now you're the one tormented by dreams. But each one leaves you right on the edge, with no one to reach out to. Alone in your quiet room, gasping for air as the details of the dream drain away the more awake you become. Obi-Wan. Smirking down at your naked body. Hands. Tongues. Breath. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. Each time it happens, you bring yourself to climax, face muffled deep into your pillow, biting down a cry of his name.

Hesitant, you touch the thick cloud of life Force all around you. You have to swallow the bile rising in your throat. It's like slogging through floodwaters with Jedi on all sides; far too overwhelming. You have to pull out almost immediately, the sensation akin to being drowned under the weight of information.

You can feel the signatures of every Force-sensitive in the Temple, from the smallest youngling all the way to Master Yoda. They all have a presence. Lying on your back, you stare up at the ceiling with a fading sense of nausea. If you ever want to speak with Obi-Wan again, you’re going to have to get better at this.

Two more weeks pass before you can re-enter this headspace. Inhale, exhale. Don't try too hard to keep a rhythm. Body relaxed. Mind at ease. Then...you dive in.

Lit candles and a holonovel. Leaning on an old cane. The smell of blaster fire. Giggling and playing tag with your creche mates. Lying in a medbay bed, watching sunlight streak the window. Feeling fear wrench in your gut at the thought that this war might never end. Watching your Padawan twirl her sabers, her lekku flying behind her. Sitting cross-legged in the library tower, thinking about things you shouldn't.

The last one is him -- it has to be. There’s no other Force here that feels like this; the same mix of emotions run through it that you felt before. But now, they feel muted, pushed down under a working consciousness. You’re not sure you would’ve been able to sense it at all, had you not already made the connection.

Though you're still reeling from a dozen other sensations, you get to your feet. The library’s halfway across the Temple -- you trip and nearly fall flat in your haste to get there in time. Your urgency earns you more than a few strange looks, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You don’t even have a plan for what to say when you get there; all you know is that you need to see him again.

You slow to a walk when you reach the library’s entrance, trying to blend in with those coming and going. It’s the middle of the afternoon, the perfect time of day to be here if you wanted to go unnoticed. Younglings have just been released from their lessons, roaming the aisles. They chatter at a poorly managed volume, despite their minder’s warning. Older Masters roam to and fro as well. Some are glued to holodisplays, others watch the younglings play with fond smiles.

But where are you, Master Kenobi?

Dodging a group of Padawans, you scan the perimeter. Nodding hellos and exchanging brief greetings, your heart begins to drop the longer you investigate. It wasn’t him. All that work, for you to be wrong. Whatever connection had occurred on that mission is unwanted on his end -- so much that he's actively pretending that you aren't alive. Jedi are supposed to be good at letting go of attachments -- are forbidden from forming them -- so why does this sting? You turn to the library’s exit, fist clenched tight. Then, you hear it.

“Thanks, Master Kenobi!”

“Of course, Padawan. Any time.”

A short Rhodesian girl darts past you, beaming as she holds her unlit lightsaber with newfound determination.

Only years of discipline and training keep you from bolting past her like a Jawa to a shipwreck. Taking a deep breath, you round the corner. There he is. Finally. Sitting cross-legged, just as you’d seen him through the Force, warmed by the sun coming in through one of the high windows. He doesn’t look up when you spot him -- his brow is furrowed (like it was when he -- no, not here) like what he’s reading is too important to take his eyes off of.

Is it your imagination, or has he gotten prettier since you’ve had the chance to get a good look at him? His hair’s longer -- it’s starting to curl near his ears. The beard’s a little bushier, but still well kept. Obi-Wan brings a hand to his mouth, stroking it lightly. Maker. You swear the ghost sensation of the hair is still tickling your lips, though it’s never really been there.

Well, you didn’t track him down to stare.

You walk over to his small table in the corner, and he only looks up when your hand is on the back of the unoccupied chair. Must be one fascinating holotext. If your heart wasn’t pounding, you might have laughed at the expression that crossed Obi-Wan’s face before he composed himself. His eyebrows threatened to disappear right into his hairline. How many people could say that they’d caught Master Kenobi off guard in such a manner?

“Master,” you greet, bowing in a show of respect. “May I have a word with you?” You have to pull your hand off of the chair so that he can’t see it trembling.

For a moment he looks at you, apparently lost for words. You wish you knew what he was thinking -- or even better, could feel his life Force mingled with yours. You practically grieve it with him right in front of you, but unable to feel a thing. It’s torture, waiting for him to either accept or dismiss you with no hint about which he’ll do. At last, with the smallest of sighs, he closes the holotext and straightens.

“I suppose I can spare a moment,” says Obi-Wan, getting to his feet. “Come with me.”

Feeling like a youngling again, you follow him out of the library and into a hall that you’ve hardly ever been down. Together, you pass no one but a few busy cleaning droids. Neither one of you says a word as he pauses in front of a door, keying in a code. Looking around to make sure that no one’s watching, Obi-Wan waves you in before he follows. The door locks behind him.

It’s an abandoned training room. Still clean due to the presence of droids, it’s nonetheless clear that no living thing has set foot in here for some time. Wooden sparring sticks lie in a pile next to the door, and an outdated holoprojector sits in the far corner. The small size surprises you -- a room this large would likely only hold around half a dozen students. You imagine that’s why it’s no longer used.

“Please, sit.” Master Obi-Wan gestures to a floor mat, and you drop onto it obediently. He mirrors your assumed posture, back straight and ankles crossed. As if this was an out-of-the-way meditation session, not a tense confrontation that you’d been trying to have for weeks.

“You’re a hard man to find, Master,” you say, hoping to break the tension.

He ducks his head, the slightest hint of color creeping over his cheeks. “Yes. Well. War does keep one busy.” You watch his fingers drum on top of his knee, a habit never seen before. Is he anxious?

You nod. “Of course. And yet I notice that I haven’t been assigned any more missions.” When he doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“Our... mission on Odryn seemed to meet the Council’s standards.” Your tone is light, cautious. It’s true that you’ve been stuck in the Temple since then, with many other Knights coming and going. Hard not to believe that Obi-Wan hasn’t had a hand in where you get assigned. Or if.

Obi-Wan takes in a sharp breath, turning away. Was that going too far? He’s silent a moment before speaking, his tone lower than you’re used to hearing it. “Young one, I...that is to say...accompanying you that day was a mistake.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, a look familiar to you from watching him chase Anakin Skywalker around.

You’re genuinely curious when you ask what he means.

“What I mean is--” the blush on his face is darkening, and you lower your eyes, biting off a smile. Cute, your mind tells you again.

“I knew that there was -- that I -- felt something toward you. That offering myself as a volunteer to go with you on the Odryn mission was a poor choice. That my thoughts would -- that I might --” He breaks off, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “Yet I went anyway. I am so sorry for what followed.” Obi-Wan looks ashamed, not meeting your eyes when you go searching for his.

Ashamed? Sorry? Poor choice? That’s...the complete opposite of how you feel.

Felt something toward you! Your brain screams in retaliation, alight with joy that you hadn’t hallucinated the whole ordeal.

“Do you...remember anything?” you ask timidly. “The dream?”

“I remember enough,” he replies, not seeming to want to discuss it further. “Enough to be consumed with guilt for what you had to witness. I assure you -- I swear -- that every moment since has been dedicated to severing the bond I mistakenly forged. To improving myself as a Jedi.”

For several seconds, you have no clue what he could mean. Then it hits -- he thinks that everything that happened was all his doing. That you were a bystander, a -- a victim.

“Obi-Wan,” you stammer. You’ve never called him that before, and it feels far too intimate once it leaves your mouth. He looks up, blue eyes full of chagrin. “Did you really think that was all you?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Can I...could I just show you?” You swallow. Oh please I’ve missed you, please.

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, then frowns, seeming to think better of it. After a moment of hesitation he simply closes his eyes and inclines his head, an invitation. So relieved you could cry, you close your eyes in turn and drop your shoulders, relaxing. Yes, oh stars, yes. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan.

When you reach, the door to his life Force is open -- barely ajar, but open all the same. This time you’re the eager one, the neglected one, and your Force greets him like a long lost friend. He wraps around you, hesitant but willing to take you, to listen. You feel tears slip down your face before pushing harder.

Sunshine, tea, cinnamon, cedarwood, shame shame shame. His purest parts clouded with it, making your chest ache so deep you can’t catch a proper breath. This isn’t right. This isn’t the whole picture. You long to make him understand. To let him know that you want him every bit as much as he wanted you that day, and so you flex forward and show.

You hear him gasp from the sheer volume of it. All your desire, watching him sleep and dream of you. Feeling the ebb and flow of his thoughts and thinking you’d never touched a more beautiful life Force. Watching his fantasy about you and feeding back one of your own. When you play back your affection toward him -- before Odryn and after -- he makes the smallest sound under his breath. And when you show him how you came just from feeling his orgasm, right there on the jungle floor, he withdraws from your mind so painfully it feels like a blow to the head.

“Stop,” he chokes out, eyes wild. “I -- I get the picture.” His hands clench tight to the material of his robes, arms crossed over his midsection.

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly, wiping your face. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you -- but you need to know. It’s not just you.”

Both hands bridge in front of Obi-Wan’s mouth as he stares straight ahead. “I'm not sure if this is better or worse.”

“Why?” You lean forward, unable to keep the desperate note out of your voice. “Master -- Obi-Wan -- I don’t see the issue. This appears to be… highly mutual.” You let your eyes dart down to his waist, which he’s still keeping hidden from you. He catches your look and bites his lip, and never in your life have you wanted to break a rule more. Because you know exactly what he’s going to say before he even has a chance to explain.

“Sometimes I forget how young you are,” he sighs, shifting under your gaze. “You know why. The Code -- attachments are exactly the sort of thing we can’t have.” But you can hear how his breathing’s gone shallow and shaky. His own eyes are lingering on your mouth, like he’s imagining if you taste like you do in his dreams.

“I think that’s an outdated rule.” You cross your arms, not missing the way his gaze now bounces down to your lifted breasts. “You’re attached to Anakin. And his Padawan, Ahsoka.”

“That’s…” Obi-Wan sighs.

“If either were about to die on the battlefield, would you not run to save them? Or leave it to fate?” You quirk an eyebrow, knowing his answer.

“I suppose you’ve got me there. But that’s not -- not the same attachment. It’s familial, not -- this.” He glances up at you shyly. “I can say with full confidence that Anakin has never tempted me in the ways that you have.”

“You’re one of the only people in the Temple he hasn’t, then,” you laugh, trying not to bask in the thought that he’s just said you tempt him. Obi-Wan grins back. A bit of that sunbeam feeling returns, though his Force is nowhere near yours at the moment.

“Anakin has a...fast and loose relationship with the Jedi Code. Even more so now that I am no longer his Master,” he chuckles. “Still. I have to assert that this is a different matter.”

“Hmm.” You frown, feigning contemplation though your mind is already set. “What if we... promise not to get attached? To fall in love? Would that feel safe enough for you?” A long shot.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, giving you a sad sort of smile. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be possible, dear. I’ve seen your thoughts. You’ve seen mine.” The seeds have already sprouted, he doesn’t say.

Unable to help it, you scoot closer until your knees touch his. “That’s too bad. I -- I really wanted to kiss you, Master.”

And there -- you’ve struck a nerve. Simply addressing him as Master in such a sweet, plaintive tone is enough. Obi-Wan practically flinches, lips pressed tight together. His eyes are bright and longing, looking right into yours now. His lashes are longer than mine. You know without looking into his mind that he remembers that particular part of his dream. Finding you in his room, bare but for your long, brown cloak.

For a moment, you stare at one another. Then he takes a deep breath. “Well. In for a chit, in for a credit,” he murmurs, and presses his mouth against yours.

Oh, it’s soft. So gentle. The barest touch of lips, yet it makes you shiver. You place a hand on his cheek with a happy hum, so glad you were able to convince him. Obi-Wan answers with a satisfied sound of his own, inching further into the kiss. When he presses harder, his moustache threatens to go up your nose. You pull away instinctively, fighting not to giggle.

“Not good?” Obi-Wan’s mouth is still inches from your own, his innocent question full of concern.

“No, it’s fine. But you’re a little,” you grin, “fuzzy.”

“Oh.” His hand drops to his mouth as if he’d never considered it before. “You’re right, I suppose. It is getting to be a bit much. Should I shave it?”

“No!”

“Trim it, then.”

“Later,” you breathe, coming for his lips at a less direct angle.

“Mm! Mmm…”

The urgency of his tone betrays him as he claims your mouth again, more confident this time. Obi-Wan’s legs fall open loosely, and you crawl forward to sit between them, not quite in his lap. His arms come around you, fingers tight on your shoulder blades. You let your mouth fall open against his closed lips as you pant, heart hammering. Gods, he’s strong. The knowledge that he could easily be rough with you -- and yet his mind shows that all he wants is to be gentle -- only makes you want him more.

Obi-Wan’s lips open against yours in turn, and you whimper at his breath mingling with your own, hot and inquisitive. You curl a hand in his hair, wondering if he’ll have the reaction you imagined in your Force projection. He doesn’t disappoint -- with a needy little gasp, he pulls you forward, effectively placing you onto the very erection he’s been trying so hard to hide. His cock flexes up into your core. Oh kriff yes there, your body sings, applying the lightest pressure back.

This time Obi-Wan is the one to pull away, dropping his forehead to your cheek. You slide back to the floor, leaning back on your palms.

“Would now be a bad time to say that I have no idea what I’m doing?” he admits with a breathless laugh. His Force is trickling back open like he can’t seem to help it, and oh, do you like what you feel.

You laugh too, just as flustered. “Doesn’t seem like it, Master.”

“I’m flattered, but really. I’m rather clueless. I assume from the way you’ve spoken about attachments that you are...not.” You sense curiosity from him, though he says nothing more about it. In return, you offer your thoughts. It’s easier -- and far less embarrassing -- to show. Your eyes seek Obi-Wan’s, asking permission to join his life Force again. He inhales shakily, and you don’t miss how tightly his hands are clenched in his lap.

Pressing a kiss to his temple, you re-enter, gentler this time. Truthfully, the experiences you have to offer aren’t that impressive. Fervent touches with a few fellow Knights who also had little to no experience, but passion in spades. Your hands on your own body, long after night had fallen at the Temple. Obi-Wan observes these parts of you, not critical or judgemental. Instead, you’re met only with his growing attraction to you, his consistent relief that what occurred on Odryn was not his fault (but you started it, you tease.).

And you? You prod. His Force shrinks a little, nervous, before opening to you further on the topic.

He hadn’t lied. In conscious practice, there’s nothing. You sift through years and years of thought in fast-forward and he’s never even laid a hand on himself, though the urge to simmers far closer to the surface than he prefers. This...definitely explains the lack of certain details in his dream. Aside from intimacy displayed by couples he’s seen out and about on-planet, he doesn’t have much to go on. This isn’t a topic they teach you as a youngling. Because why would a Jedi need to know? You remember your own firsts, everything coated with disquietude.

“Told you,” he mutters, breaking your concentration. When you open your eyes, he’s giving you a classic Kenobi smirk. Uncertainty lingers behind the kind crinkle of his eyes, anxiety that he can’t quite banish. Neither of you address it. “Are you still so eager to break the rules?” Do I still appeal to you?

In answer, you graze your mouth over his once more. When you tug at Obi-Wan’s bottom lip with your teeth, the pile of sparring sticks in the corner collapses and scatters.

“This is a training room,” you say between kisses, adrenaline flooding your veins at the noises he’s making. Quiet gasps ascend into groans the more daring you get with your tongue, his fingers trembling on your shoulder. “So we should make the best of it. Get some more experience under our belts.”

“I like -- your phrasing,” Obi-Wan manages. "But I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to stop talking," one of his hands snakes to your ass and you squeak in surprise, "and come here."

Gladly, you have time to think at him, before he grabs your hips and lifts you right back into his lap. Nothing shy about it this time -- he's put you directly on his clothed cock.

Now you're the one caught off guard, and he can sense it all over you. How badly you want it. How long you've imagined. You must smell like need. Locking eyes with you, Obi-Wan rolls his hips into your cunt, slow and purposeful. When you whine, something seems to click in his expression -- like he's filing the information away.

I see.

See wh-- !

But you're not allowed to finish the thought. In one motion, Obi-Wan is rising up and over you, crowding you onto the floor under him. You lie there, the training mat stiff underneath you, as he continues to survey you. His hips press yours firmly into the floor, a delicious pressure as you lie flat and he sits astride you.

“There are several options running through your mind, little one,” he says at last, and you blush. No one’s called you that since you were a youngling, tripping over the hem of your robes and envying the Padawans with their lightsabers. To hear him refer to you as little, when you’re pinned under his arousal, does something to you. “Show me the one you want the most.”

Licking your lips at the way his curious look has morphed to one of hunger, you offer the image that has gotten you to climax for the past few nights. You had been desperate to be claimed by the one person who hadn’t seemed to want you.

How things have changed, you muse, watching his eyes go wide as he watches the scene play out in his own mind. Obi-Wan’s full lips part on a silent moan as it vanishes, blinking back to reality slowly.

“Yes. Yes, I think we can manage that.” His voice is so soft, a contrast to the hard press of his cock and hips. “Pull your tunic up for me.”

You scramble to obey, exposing the flat planes of your stomach, then the curve of your breasts. The sturdy material of the tunic is gathered up near your neck, leaving your torso bare for him. Obi-Wan reaches down to swipe the pad of his thumb over one nipple, making you squirm under his hold. He purrs at the desperate sensation it incites in your core, feeling it almost as you do through the Force.

Staying silent as he’d asked you to, you nonetheless beg him to hurry, both with your eyes and through the Force. You know he wants this just as badly -- can feel the stiffness of his cock and the arousal pooling in his gut as surely as if it was your own body -- yet he takes his time here.

So when he finally palms his dick through his trousers, forcing it flat against your stomach, you mewl for him. Your hands reach up to dig into his thighs, urging him on.

Exhaling through his nose, Obi-Wan continues to palm himself through the material, sucking in a gasp when he finally lets himself wrap a hand around it and squeeze.

“Out of everything you imagined,” he murmurs, undoing the ties on his pants deftly, “this is really what you want most?” His erection peeks out at you now, straining his underwear. With a bob of Obi-Wan’s hand, that too is pulled out of the way. Fucking -- Maker --

“Yes,” you whimper, mouth watering for it.

It feels like you’ve waited years to have Obi-Wan’s heavy, naked cock lying full on your stomach. He’s thicker than anyone you’ve been with, and flushed red with want. The tip is already dripping, warm on your cool skin. He grabs it firmly in his right hand, a ragged groan tearing from his throat as he gives it a slow pull. Powerless to stop yourself from wanting a closer look, you prop yourself up on your elbows. Your heart jumps to your throat as the extra attention makes him flush.

Those lovely eyes, framed by copper lashes, dart away from yours as he tugs harder, biting a knuckle to keep from crying out. Kriff, you wish he wouldn’t. You want his overstimulated sounds almost as much as you want his come smearing your chest.

One hand works his shaft at an increasing pace as the other tenses in the material of his tunic. "Always -- so much," he confesses in a gasp. "Such a m-mess to wake up to." And indeed, pre-come is dribbling down his cock and hand in rivulets now, pooling below your belly button.

"I've never," he shudders, shoulders tensing, "never done this -- on purpose --" Obi-Wan looks down at you, not really seeing, brows knitted with desperation. The normally composed Jedi is falling apart, and it’s driving you insane. "I can f-feel it about to happen." In his fist, his cock is making obscenely wet sounds as he covers it with his own juices.

"How -- how close?" you ask, unable to take your eyes off of the way he's working his hips in tight little thrusts now. Fucking into his hand like no matter how fast he strokes, it won’t be enough. You feel like your hips will be bruised by how hard he’s pinning you into the training mat, but you can’t bring yourself to give a damn.

“Close --” he whines, ducking his head, face screwed up as he pants. Obi-Wan’s hand and wrist are a blur as he pleasures himself, balls drawing up in anticipation. His hair is a mess, so untidy from its normal neat part, and you wish you could run your hands through it. “Oh, gods -- oh, gods --” His Force is blazing with the chase, teetering on the edge of an orgasm he’s never been able to fully experience. Going to come all over you, stars, feels so good --

“Please, Master, please,” you beg, shoving his hips further up your torso. You’re soaking in your underwear, waiting for him to mark you.

You see it in his eyes three seconds before it happens. They go completely round with wonder, a hand slamming over his mouth as the first spurts of hot come streak your stomach.

Little one, stars -- I’m coming, I’m coming -- oh f-fuck fuck --

Though Obi-Wan hardly lets more than a whimper escape past his own hand, you hear everything loud and clear in your mind. It’s every bit as intense as you remember from that day on Odryn, and you clench as his aftershocks roll through your empty cunt. Rope after rope of come covers your chest, from the bottom of your stomach to the hollow of your throat. The scent of it coats your nostrils, thick and musky and Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flutter closed, hand falling from its grip over his mouth. “That -- that was…”

“Messy,” you joke, offering a smile. Incredible, you add as a hint of embarrassment creeps into your bond. When you reiterate how good it felt to watch him losing himself in the pleasure of it, he relaxes again. With a sigh, he eases off of your hips and tucks his wilting cock back into his trousers, settling down on his side next to you.

“You do look rather pretty like that,” he admits quietly, cheeks still flushed from exertion.

“Just wait until we actually take our clothes off, Master.”

“Pfft.” Obi-Wan leans in and kisses you, as gentle as the first time. “I have to tell you something,” he adds, voice lowered to a conspiratorial volume though you’re alone.

“What is it?”

“You taste like that dreadful tea they serve in the mess.”

#come what may ao3 #wickedscribbles #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x you #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan x oc #obiwan smut #ziva courtee #obi-wan x oc #obi-wan fanfic

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yurimother · 4 years

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LGBTQ Manga Review - Fragtime (Complete Series)

I recall reading the first few chapters of Fragtime on Manga Cross and not being very impressed. I did not care for it much, as, other than the time stopping element, it was mostly generic and had a few too many unsavory elements. I was content to let it rest and be forgotten along with a hundred other girl-meets-girl school Yuri romances until Tear Studio and the people behind the excellent Kase-san and Morning Glories OVA announced an anime adaptation of the work, a full five years after it ended. Inevitably an English adaptation of Sato’s original manga was announced, and so here I am, somewhat reluctantly reading and reviewing the two-volume series. It may sound like I am pessimistic or already had my mind made up, but that is not true. I went into Fragtime with as open a mind as possible, and I am happy to say that I did find several favorable aspects that appealed to me. Sadly, the manga mostly lived up to my poor initial impressions from all those years ago.

Fragtime follows timid high school student Moritani Misuzu, who can stop time for three minutes a day. While using her power, she attempts to look up the skirt of one of her classmates, Haruka Murakami. To her horror, Moritani discovered that Haruka is the one person immune to her ability. The two form an unlikely friendship and spend those few minutes when all others freeze together. As Moritani’s feelings for Haruka grow, her powers begin to fade, throwing their time together in jeopardy.

At first, this story appears to have some promise, along with some obvious issues. The supernatural aspect of Moritani’s powers and its connection to her emotions and relationship with Haruka provide excellent possibilities and avenues to explore the series’ romance and characters. Sadly, Sato delivers an unwieldy story with unlikeable and inconsistent subjects, a poorly paced narrative, and far too many sleazy moments to excuse. This last point is the most prominent of all and will be a turn off for many readers, myself very much included.

Moritani begins the story by “upskirting” one of her classmates. It is later revealed that she reveled in exploring the time-frozen school to pry into people’s most intimate moments, many of which frankly do not happen in schools nearly as much as the story would like to believe. Following this event are multiple scenes with characters flashing each other their panties, or else stripping to whatever the opposite of readers’ delight is. These moments are not sexy, and while a few of them appear to have been attempts at comedy, they will elicit few laughs. These factors create an overwhelming blanket of immature perversion that stifles any enjoyment in the audience and characters.

Another egregious element is a plotline where Haruka is continually sexually abused by her teacher, something used by her to manipulate Moritani, then joked about, and never resolved despite being referenced a good half-dozen times throughout the manga. More than anything, this speaks to Fragtime’s inability to treat its characters with any respect or focus on a plot arc and complete it satisfactorily. For indeed, even if one undergoes the arduous task of shrugging off the uncomfortable fanservice, there is not much noteworthy content left underneath.

Fragtime’s highschool Yuri romance plot is pretty unextraordinary. Even though it did attempt to include a few interesting plot points, like when Haruka and Moritani begin dating partway through the series, it is not awful, but too often, these plots are picked up and then never resolved properly, such as Moritani struggle to avoid the ping-pong club, and her discomfort after finding out about Haruka’s boyfriend. Yet, there were some positives along the way, sweet moments between characters or satisfying actions taken by them. It is just hard to find one uninterrupted by an unwelcome twist or panty flash. The one unconditional plus I will give is that I really liked the ending. There is a fantastic scene of role-reversal where the usually quiet Moritani confesses all the mischief to her and Haruka committed to the class and reveals the truth of their relationship and her feelings for Haruka. Afterward, a stunned Haruka is forced into a crisis of character and her true self is seemingly revealed. It is appropriately dramatic and delivers a fulfilling ending for the characters. Sadly, these revelations and character arcs are not supported by the rest of the story.

A manga like Fragtime lives or dies by its characters. Readers will sympathize with likable characters met with appropriate challenges and growth, or else they will laugh with endearing figures who try their best despite their flaws. Sadly, Fragtime’s Haruka is neither. Haruka is instantly dislikable, manipulating Moritani upon their first meeting, and does little to improve. She often jumps between ignoring Moritani and controlling her, demanding that she only use her powers at her command. These traits are never addressed, and the whole time readers are expected to accept that she is an unreachable beauty, and we should love her alongside Moritani. She is hopelessly inconsistent, apparently changing personalities and acquiring new traits at the drop of a hat so that Sato can shoehorn a new element of drama into the convoluted romance. The ultimate motivation behind her character, how she tries to please everyone and do what they want her to, is contrary to half her actions, and everything we have learned about her up to that point, making the reveal in the penultimate chapter, which is well-executed, feel forced.

Even through all the misery, convolution, and smut, there were, thankfully, some great moments sprinkled throughout Fragtime, mostly from Moritani. I loved seeing Moritani in the moments when she struggled with jealousy and accidentally stopped time, or else was uncertain about how Haruka would react when she confessed something to her. It was really human and relatable, and if only she were not going around looking up girls’ skirts, she would have been an excellent character. It also helps that her journey is also much more believable than Haruka’s, as Sato mostly keeps her story and development moving at a steady pace.

Moritani is much more consistent than Haruka. She starts the series as a timid and quiet girl, using her ability to run from confrontation or frankly, any form of human interaction. Once she meets Haruka and the solace of those frozen minutes is taken from her, she is understandably confused and traumatized. She even has a few moments of growth through the series, taking more confidence in herself as she plants a pair of panties (yup this again) on Haruka’s cheating boyfriend’s head. It is almost enough to sell her eventual ending and deliver a complete character.

Finally, we come to the art, which is good though not extraordinary. Characters have distinct designs and are consistent. Backgrounds and details are well managed, and nothing ever caught my eye as warped or out of place. However, there is not much that jumps out either for its quality. Sato uses very basic paneling, which is easy to read by also just slightly dull. The time-stopping elements were crying out for some sweeping panels of objects frozen mid-movement, but we never got any such content. In fact, there is no noticeable change in the art during those movements when time is stopped, other than Misuzu and Haruka acting like a pervert and exhibitionist respectively. If the writing did not specify when time was stopped or started, readers would have no idea.

Fragtime has an interesting concept but neither the grace nor charm to pull it off completely. The story is meandering and clumsily tries and fails to incorporate heavy topics and complex characterization into a generic Yuri school romance. The characters, particularly Haruka, are mostly unlikeable and wildly inconsistent, and readers have to force themselves to cheer for them or event finish this two-volume series. Most of all, Fragtime leaves an unpleasant and unsettling feeling with all its sleazy fanservice and perverted set pieces, clearly attempting to cater to specific audiences while utterly misunderstanding how teenage girls, or frankly, sane human beings, act. Any silver linings in its more relatable moments and competent presentation are whisked away by a mixture of contempt and disgust. Sadly, I do not recommend this manga, although I do appreciate that Seven Seas published the whole series in one omnibus volume so that it takes up less space on my bottom shelf.

Ratings: Story – 3 Characters – 4 Art – 6 LGBTQ – 2 Sexual Content – 7 Final – 3

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

Purchase Fragtime in paperback and digitally today: https://amzn.to/32mzVmg

Purchasing manga legally supports publishers and creator. YuriMother makes a small commission to help fund future content.

#yuri #reviews #fragtime #anime #manga #lgbt #lgbtq #wlw #girls love #gl #gay #queer #romance #lesbian #lesbians #lgbtq+

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shefanispeculator · 3 years

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I'm slightly disappointed to log onto Zoom and find Gwen Stefani in Los Angeles. I wanted to see the ranch. Stefani spent most of the pandemic in Oklahoma with her fiancé and fellow The Voice coach Blake Shelton, with whom she has recently collaborated on a string of country radio hits, alongside a kitsch Christmas song. For a ska-pop superstar, it's a pivot, but Stefani and Shelton are cute together — picture-perfect in their opposite attraction.

Country Gwen exists, her urban counterpart assures me, but on this particular MacBook she's nowhere to be seen. I'm not sure what crude regional stereotypes I was expecting (Stefani spitting sunflower seeds? Shelton line dancing in the background?) but I get Californian sunshine instead, illuminating a version of Stefani more familiar from my teenage years, when Love. Angel. Music. Baby and its follow-up The Sweet Escape spawned millions of fans, haters and imitators. She's platinum blonde, red lipsticked and wearing a black-and-white outfit that matches the decor. The checkerboard pattern can be traced back to an even earlier era, when Stefani and her No Doubt bandmates were '80s teenagers obsessed with two-tone acts like Madness and The Specials.

Cowboy boots wouldn't fit this picture, and nor would Stefani's glitzy showgirl outfits from The Voice, where she just wrapped another season as a celebrity coach. As she prepares to release her fourth solo record, and enters the fifth decade of an extraordinarily successful music career, Gwen Stefani is re-re-branding as... Gwen Stefani.

Top: Local Boogeyman, Pants: GCDS, Shoes: Valentino, Earrings, bracelets and rings: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience), Necklaces: Gwen's own, Engagement ring: Gwen's own

"But what is that?" Stefani asks with seriousness, as we consider the possibility of some essential, inherent Gwen. "Everyone's interpretation of what I am and how I sing, I mean, that's what this era is about for me."

Said era kicked off late last year, with the music video for "Let Me Reintroduce Myself." It saw Stefani playfully revisit the wardrobes of album cycles past, from the ab-bearing tomboy tank tops of "Hollaback Girl" to the club kid blue hair mascara of '90s No Doubt. Her Harajuku Girls also make a return. The entire visual is a huge flex, not only for the sheer volume of iconic career moments recreated in dutiful detail, but the fact Stefani can still fit into the clothes originally worn during all of them. She looks eerily the same, frighteningly good, ageing in reverse at the same pace as her frequent collaborator Pharrell.

"It's really a blessing to be able to have such a long career, where there really is nothing to prove anymore."

Pop stars are expected to be young forever, in looks but also in their capacity to innovate new trends. Which makes the nostalgic music video a curious choice. Doesn't Stefani know by now that the cardinal rule of pop is to avoid repeating yourself? That even the hottest artists in the world are basically required by law to create completely new eras from scratch every six months in order to appease fans and maintain maximum TikTok-ready relevance?

Of course she does, but that doesn't mean she has to participate. Stefani isn't trying to chase down her contemporaries, despite clearly possessing the physical fitness required. "It's really a blessing to be able to have such a long career, where there really is nothing to prove anymore," she says. "It's a different energy. You know, it's really just about doing it to do it, as opposed to trying to make a statement or make a mark."

Corset: Ronald van der Kemp, Bracelets: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience), Earrings: Lana Jewelry (The Residency Experience), Engagement ring: Gwen's own

Even the Saweetie remix of her latest single "Slow Clap" happened on a whim, after the younger artist happened to post a video of herself vibing to Stefani's 2004 single "Luxurious" on Instagram Stories. They knocked out the song and accompanying video in a day. Neither seems bothered by the Old Navy meme. "It was just this little video that we did on the fly," Stefani says. "It just happened. It just feels good to put new stuff out there."

Stefani completed a two-year Vegas greatest hits residency in 2019, which gave her a sense of perspective on her own legacy. "You make a new record because that's what is exciting for you," she says. "But people really just want to hear the records after a while that were the backdrop to their lives, a 'Don't Speak' or a 'Just a Girl' or a 'Hollaback Girl,' or whatever it was for them. So, you know, it's hard — you can only be new when you're new, and that's just the truth, and I know that."

She says she was pleasantly surprised that "Let Me Reintroduce Myself" charted at all, and that she only found out it did when Shelton walked into the kitchen to show her the iTunes numbers. "I burst out crying with joy, because it was like, 'Whoa, really?' I think I'd set myself up to be quite realistic about where I'm at."

Stefani, endlessly polite and self-deprecating in conversation, which on her end mostly consists of endearingly earnest run-on monologues, says she still has "tons" of insecurities. I get the impression she has been trying harder to give herself credit lately. She recalls recently hearing Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" on the car radio and finding herself in awe of the song's timeless catchiness.

Suit: Balmain, Earrings and choker: Lana Jewelry (The Residency Experience), Necklaces: Gwen's own

"But then I started thinking," she says, in a goofy Cher Horowitz tone. "Like, I have a few of those myself." She talks of this realization as a genuine breakthrough, which is a little worrying for a woman who has sold 40 million records. No shit, she has a "few of those." More of them than Lauper, actually.

More new music is coming along slowly, but I've caught Stefani on a day when the horizon looks closer than usual, and while things haven't quite fallen into place yet, she's feeling more confident that they eventually will. "I'm at the end," she declares. "The idea of going for a session and not being with my kids or the idea of taking time away from Blake doesn't fuel my fire like it did two months ago. I need to decide, wrap it up, put out the project."

Crucially, there's no rush. The album will simply arrive sometime this year, tracklist and title currently undecided.

"You're talking to me at a weird transitional time," Stefani says repeatedly throughout our conversation, which sometimes takes on the cathartic tone of therapy. But having time in the first place is a new feeling.

Bracelet and choker: Dana Kemp (The Residency Experience), Obsession necklace: Lidow Archive, Gold necklaces: Gwen's own, Clothing: Blumarine, Boots: Philipp Plein

NO DOUBT WERE A BAND for nine years before getting on the radio. Enough time for Stefani and bassist Tony Kanal to be in a long term relationship then break up and write a whole hit album about it. All of the Fleetwood Mac drama was resolved pre-fame, which enabled the group to capitalize on the surprise success of Tragic Kingdom singles like "Don't Speak" and "Just a Girl" with a world tour that lasted almost three years. Three more albums followed, and Stefani has reinforced her household name status in every decade since, launching a solo career and multiple fashion lines while never totally cutting the cord from her original musical project.

In other words, record executives have been dictating Stefani's schedule since the mid-'90s. She even sings about it on Love. Angel. Music. Baby opener "What You Waiting For," in which her biological clock ticks like a metronome. Interscope Co-Founder Jimmy Iovine, who discovered No Doubt and continued to work with Stefani on her solo output, was quick to point out that his client's prime childbearing years were also her last opportunity to cross over into pop stardom. And after her first record went number one, it only made sense to lay down some new tracks straight away.

"Whether or not I get the response that I would hope to get — because that's what I'm used to, because I'm so damn spoiled and I've tasted the blood of success — I still got to do the creative journey."

"I had the baby, the first one, and it was only like eight weeks after I had him, that Jimmy was calling me saying, you've got to go in the studio with Akon," Stefani recalls cheerfully. "Like, Akon wants to work with you. Like, no, I'm nursing my baby. But then I couldn't say no." And then? "We wrote 'Sweet Escape.'" And then? "I went on a world tour." And then? "In the month that I got home from that one hundred and whatever shows it was, I got pregnant with Zuma. So then that was that." (It wasn't. Admittedly: "Then it was like, No Doubt, let's do another record.")

Things are different now: "You can just drop singles and you don't have to put a record out. But if you want to put a record out, you can work on it slowly." But even as she talks of slowing down, speculating that she might not even go on tour after the pandemic ends, in the next sentence Stefani's back to admitting that there's more work to be done, that she wants to write a couple more songs for her new record, "just to make sure."

Earrings: Lana Jewelry (The Residency Experience) Choker: Chanel, Necklaces: Gwen's own, Gloves: Laurel DeWitt, Top: Local Boogeyman

"The creation is the thing that fuels me so much," she says. "Whether or not I get the response that I would hope to get — because that's what I'm used to, because I'm so damn spoiled and I've tasted the blood of success — I still got to do the creative journey."

Like any good lyricist, she reaches out to her listener, hoping to convey a more universal point. "It's just probably the same for you as a writer," she guesses. "You know, it's the anticipation. You're in it now. You're getting the information. This is what you live for. You're doing the interview and then you're going to write it. And that's going to be the challenge."

GWEN STEFANI WAS PUTTING out diary entry pop when Olivia Rodrigo was still in diapers and Taylor Swift was but a humble Pennsylvania Christmas tree heiress. She struggles to pen lyrics that aren't confessional ("I'm not a creative writer when it comes to like, 'Oh, let's just write a sad song about something that didn't happen to me'"), and occasionally re-traumatizes herself when performing old hits. Return of Saturn deep cut "Dark Blue" triggers "crazy, just horrible" recollections of a past relationship. Even "Don't Speak" felt emotional onstage in Vegas.

But after releasing an excruciating divorce album, This Is What the Truth Feels Like, in 2016, Stefani is back to writing happy songs only. She's getting married, after all. She won't be releasing any of her trademark breakup anthems anytime soon. "Girl," she laughs, "I think I've had my fair share."

Bow: Laurel DeWitt, Earrings: Lana Jewelry (The Residency Experience), Bracelets: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience), Shirt: Vintage Archive, Dress: Erdem, Tights: Capezio, Shoes: Marc Jacobs (Lidow Archive)

Stefani and Shelton's relationship has puzzled some fans. Shelton, a country radio phenomenon, never endorsed Trump in the 2016 election, but he did come close. Earlier this year, he was criticized for releasing a song called "Minimum Wage," about finding small joys during periods of economic struggle, at the peak of a recession.

Is Gwen Stefani a Republican now? She's not offended by the question, or really anything I have to ask. She has been famous for so long that she expects and even embraces scrutiny. "If you're going to be a star, that's what you get," she says. "You know what I mean? You get what you get, and you don't get upset, at all."

As for her politics, it's read-between-the-lines."I can see how people would be curious, but I think it's pretty obvious who I am," she says. "I've been around forever. I started my band because we were really influenced by ska, which was a movement that happened in the late '70s, and it was really all about people coming together. The first song I ever wrote was a song called 'Different People,' which was on the Obama playlist, you know, a song about everyone being different and being the same and loving each other. The very first song I wrote."

One of very few multi-racial bands playing stadium shows for hoardes of American teenangers in the 1990s, No Doubt did very literally embody those second-wave ska principles of inclusion. Stefani even wore bindis and saris on stage as a symbol of cultural exchange with Kanal, who is Indian-American, briefly kickstarting a white girl facial jewelry trend that it's safe to say would not fly in 2021.

Rings (left): Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience)

"The Specials and The Selecter and all those groups, and what they were doing in the late '70s was this whole kind of anti-racism, we come together, Black and white ska movement," Stefani elaborates on the band's founding principles. "And we were sort of echoing that in the '80s when we did it, we were like the third generation of ska."

Ska she's always happy to discuss, but Stefani was brought up to keep her electoral preferences personal, and that rule has held for her entire career. "The whole point of voting, is you have this personal space to feel how you feel," she explains. "I use my platform to share my life story and to engage with people and to exchange whatever gift I was giving. I'm not a political science major. I am not that person. Everyone knows that. So why would I even talk about it?"

"I don't need to go on Instagram and say 'girl power.' I just need to live and be a good person and leave a trail of greatness behind me."

It never has been. Looking back, it's weird that "Just a Girl" is so integral to Gwen Stefani's brand. She's never written anything else with remotely the same message, and or publicly identified as a feminist. To Stefani, it's just a song about growing up, and "all of a sudden you realize your gender." It wasn't meant as a protest or anthem: in fact, being her breakout hit, she didn't think anyone other than her bandmates and some local fans would ever hear it.

"I don't even know if I knew what feminist at that time was," she says. "I was very sheltered growing up with my family. I wasn't political. I wasn't angry." Even now: "I don't need to go on Instagram and say 'girl power.' I just need to live and be a good person and leave a trail of greatness behind me. Stop talking about it and stop trying to bully everybody about it. Just do it. And that's how I feel like I've lived my life."

WHEN STEFANI WAS GROWING up in 1970s Anaheim, her father got a job doing market research for Yamaha, which required frequent business trips to Japan. He'd bring home Sanrio toys, as well as anecdotes about the Tokyo district of Harajuku, where teenagers were dressing like Elvis, and "taking all these American things and making them Japanese." His daughter was entranced. "He would be telling me these things my whole life, like my whole life. I had a deep fascination."

So when No Doubt played Japan in 1996, Stefani describes, "It was a pretty big deal for me." The tour was the first time she'd traveled outside of the United states, save one trip to Italy when she was 21. "I just was inspired," she recalls. "It's a world away. And at that time it was even further, because you couldn't see it on the internet. I don't think a younger generation can even imagine what it's like to not have access to the world."

From then on, Japan became one of Stefani's biggest career motivations, especially when it came to her solo albums. If she could just write more hits, she'd get to tour there again, see the street style, visit the vintage stores. "If you read the actual lyrics [in 'What You Waiting For?'], it talks about being a fan of Japan and how if I do good, I get to go back there," she says.

In the meantime, she decided she'd bring Japan to Los Angeles. "I never got to have dancers with No Doubt. I never got to change costumes. I never got to do all of those fun girl things that I always love to do. So I had this idea that I would have a posse of girls — because I never got to hang with girls — and they would be Japanese, Harajuku girls, because those are the girls that I love. Those are my homies. That's where I would be if I had my dream come true, I could go live there and I could go hang out in Harajuku."

Earrings, bracelets and rings: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience, Gold Necklaces: Gwen's own, Top: Local Boogeyman, Pants: GCDS, Shoes: Valentino

Dancers Maya Chino ("Love"), Jennifer Kita ("Angel"), Rino Nakasone ("Music") and Mayuko Kitayama ("Baby") would go on to accompany Stefani for her next two album cycles, dancing on stage and in her videos while also making silent, but very well-dressed, awards show appearances. Kita, who'd grown up in LA, visited Japan for the first time on Stefani's tour.

In a 2006 interview with Blender magazine, comedian Margaret Cho compared the Harajuku Girls to a minstrel show. The backlash against them has been consistent ever since. Stefani, to this day, disagrees.

"If we didn't buy and sell and trade our cultures in, we wouldn't have so much beauty, you know?" she says. "We learn from each other, we share from each other, we grow from each other. And all these rules are just dividing us more and more."

Hello Kitty merch was harder to come by when she was a kid, but in other ways, life felt easier. "I think that we grew up in a time where we didn't have so many rules. We didn't have to follow a narrative that was being edited for us through social media, we just had so much more freedom."

Earrings, bracelets and rings: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience), Necklaces: Gwen's own, Dress: GCDS, Shirt: Faith Connexion, Tights: Capezio, Shoes: Marc Jacobs (Lidow Archive)

Stefani's penchant for rule breaking has always been apparent in her music as much as her aesthetic. Genre-wise, she's a randomista. The chart success of No Doubt's bouncing ska beats felt like an accidental post-grunge-era glitch in the matrix, and it's insane to this day that one of Stefani's biggest solo hits samples "If I Were a Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof, by way of '90s British dancehall duo Louchie Lou & Michie One. That another, "Wind It Up," features earnest Sound of Music yodeling.

"I just make up whatever comes out," Stefani says of her songwriting process. "I don't even know where it comes from. I feel like it just comes from the source. It's not trained, and it's not perfect, it's just real."

She looks back on the Love.Angel.Music.Baby era as unusually experimental and artistically fulfilling. "It was just a really incredible time, and a very creative time. I feel like it was just a really creative project."

STEFANI VIEWS HER CAREER success as mostly a matter of luck. Pop stardom is God-given and mysterious."Because the fact I made it, it doesn't make any sense," she reflects. "It's written in the stars. You know what I'm saying? I'm not the most talented. I'm not the most pretty. I'm not the most smart. None of those things. But I made it, right?"

Clothing: Blumarine, Bracelet and choker: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience), Obsession necklace: Lidow Archive, Gold necklaces: Gwen's Own

Every week on The Voice she watches objectively gifted musicians fail at becoming artists. "I watched people that went through that without seeing their faces, without knowing what color they are. And I chose the ones that pulled my heartstrings. And even though they were so talented, none of them have had careers. It's made me look at myself and even feel even more amazed by the fact that anyone cared or cares."

If all of this is actually so out of her control, then Stefani feels safe stepping back a little bit. "I don't have that fuel in me like I used to, because I already won," she says. And now she has other victories in mind. "Being a good human, a good mother. I want to have a good marriage. I want to be a good wife. I want to win at finding peace. I want to win at finding other hobbies that I'm good at."

But at the same time? "If I'm inspired, I'm going to try to do something with that inspiration." That's the most fun part: whatever else comes after has always been an amazing bonus.

The "Let Me Reintroduce Myself" era, whatever form it may eventually take, isn't a desperate grab at former glory. It's Stefani refusing to evolve for the sake of it. She's poking fun at the whole idea of having to compete with past personas alongside current ones, while acknowledging the fact she's grateful to still be in the game at all.

"You don't know what you're doing," she says, somehow both confident and resigned. "You're a cartoon of yourself at this point, and you don't know what people are thinking. They're wondering, what? Why are you still here? And I'm like, I don't know. They said I could be here. So I'm here!"

Photography: Jamie Nelson Styling: Nicola Formichetti Hair: Sami Knight Makeup: Michael Anthony Nails: Carolyn Orellana Wardrobe director: Marta Del Rio Production: Katrina Kudlick Digitatech: Sean MacGillivray Logo design: Luca Devinu Story: Kat Gillespie

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RWBY Volume 7 Review

Two weeks out from Volume 8 and I finally cared enough to write this. Go team I guess.

Part of it came down to my feelings on Volume 7. It’s a complicated season that’s made me realize a lot of my overall feelings on RWBY as a series, particularly a lot of the less flattering feelings. Volume 7 is just... frustrating in general, as for all the good that it does have, and it does have a lot of great elements to it, it’s let down by a frustrating script and writing choices that feel distinctly amateurish, especially as the series moves on and gets better and better looking each year. There’s elements and kernals here of great character writing, season-wide arcs that land in a really good way and get me emotionally invested in the characters. But on the other... Ren only has two hundred words the entire season and you can tell!

Volume 7 is a season of dizzying highs, some of the best moments of the entire franchise... and some of the series lows. It’s a season where there’s no production reason for its shortcomings... it just comes down to an awkward script that focuses on the wrong elements far too often. Let’s talk about that. In a very long and drawn out manner.

Thanks to @jamesbranwen, @h-e-m-o-goblin and @retro-riffraff for help with GIFs and consultation on this review.

1) The Good Stuff!

A) Atlas is very pretty!

I cannot stress enough how on a set level, Volume 7 is leaps and bounds above the other seasons in sheer environmental detail and setting dressing. Mantle has a great atmosphere with its New York influences, the smog covered backgrounds and oppressive streets and alleys. Ironwood’s office which is deliberately designed to evoke astronomy themes to represent James’ love for the stars. The cold oppressive atmosphere of the Schnee Manor and how Jacques has begun warping it to glorify him with only lip service paid to Nicholas in public. Penguins!

There’s a lot of great set design work that went into this season and the crew deserve props for it. Genuinely.

B) Ironwood’s arc is the best character arc in the entire franchise

Yeah just wearing my heart on my sleeve there, I fucking love Ironwood and his character arc here in Volume 7 is the best written arc of the show. I simp for the tin man who just wants to do the right thing. This one season of content is better than a lot of the series-wide material being honest. I went back to James’s big volumes in the last month to rewatch the show and it’s interesting to see the early seeds in retrospect for where his arc goes. His need to protect everyone he can and the brutish measures he considers necessary for such an act, his conflicting loyalties towards Ozpin that manifest in both frustration at Oz’s seeming apathy to the growing conflict, but also desperate desire for validation from Ozpin that what’s he doing is the right call. After the Mistral seasons set up James as going off the deep end following Volume 3, having him open the season with an earnest smile, an immediate apology for the team’s arrest and trusting them with his plans for Amity and Salem is a jarring but pleasant surprise. He’s not been slacking off, he’s been trying to keep the world together in the way he thinks is best. He lets his guard down around the heroes and we see the good man underneath, which makes the moments where he raises his walls hurt all the more. While Em and Merc are still probably my favorite characters period, James is absolutely my favorite character in Volume 7 and Top 5 favorite characters series-wide. I’m very eager to see where he goes from here. He also rocks the beard and fixed his T-Rex arms so James came out of the washing machine that is Volume 7′s costume design. He truly is the Best Boi, and I cannot give Jason Rose enough credit for his performance this year. He hit every note of Ironwood’s character perfectly and I wish the fandom would give him more credit for giving James as much life as he does.

Oh, and as the obligatory comment on mlm rep that I am known for getting obsessively weird anon hate over: IronQrow hug nearly had me crying on a convention floor from how goddamn soft it was. Remember conventions? Ah good times.

This just... hits me... ya know? Seeing him lower his guard so much to come in for a hug just shows how isolated he’s let himself become to let himself have this moment of contact... Godamnit James. Also this is the second time after Martial Arcs that two guys hug and I really liked their ship for the following hiatus.

C) Soft Qrow hours are nice

Qrow’s a good guy, he went through a lot of bad stuff in Volume 6 but now he’s on the other side and purged his voice of the demon within. I think Volume 7 was a very good year for Qrow overall. It was great to see him interacting with more characters his age and lowering his own guard. His moments of letting the facade drop around James and Clover especially are great expansion for his character. Jason Liebritch hit the ground running as Qrow and gave him a far more dynamic range than I think Vic could. While I wish Qrow going off alcohol had been given more of a focus as it’s kind of done off-handedly that he’s gone cold turkey and otherwise doesn’t get brought up barring his revulsion at the wine in the Schnee Manor, he overall had a great year. And trust me I’ll get to the fights later, I have a lot more I can say about the bird boi there.

D) I liked the Ace Ops!

I was ambivilent towards the Ace Ops on first watching. They’re kinda underdeveloped in the context of the season at large and most people immediately pegged them as a miniboss squad/fodder for Salem to kill. But in rewatch they do still get to shine, if not as brightly. They’re very enjoyable. Clover especially is just really fun in retrospect, I love cocky fighters in general, and he was infectiously enjoyable (I’ve already covered the FG stuff in the past, not doing it again). Marrow came a close second because... well it’s Marrow, he is The Best Boi. Harriet got points for being a punchgirl which is always cool, I liked how her Semblance was shown and being cocky while being able to back it up is always a win. Elm and Vine are tied for dead last, I like the body diversity Elm introduces with her muscles and Vine... existed... but overall I think with the time they had, they did get to establish themselves well. I wish I could say that about their relationship with Team RWBYORNJ but this is the Nice Section so we’ll leave it there for now.

This is one of the best shots of the entire season. I adore it. God I like the Teryx design.

E) God the villains rocked this year!

I am a villain whore. I own that. I will embrace that monkier. But when they’re as cool as this, I feel validated in this Chilli’s tonight. Watts and Tyrian really make the season shine and don’t have a dud scene all season. They have great chemistry together, shining bright in even the weakest or most mediocre episodes. Watts went from “Oh yeah you exist” tier to “Oh yeah you rule” tier. His vendetta against Ironwood feels so real and pre-established, even though this season is the first time it’s ever come up. Watts just ozzes style in everything he does. The animators bring him to life and make every step, every flick of his twist and even just how he moves his eyes all bleed contempt. He’s such a rat and I love him! Chris Sabat finally gets to stretch his wings after a few years playing Watts as just Evil Scientist Guy, and he makes the most of it.

And Tyrian remains an absolute treat. He didn’t get much in V6 but here he takes center stage with Watts and also gets so much impact because of it. All the little twitches, and tilting of his heads, and dramatic gestures, he’s still just so goddamn cool to watch and we even get a little backstory of him. I know he’s irredeemable. But I just want to watch Tyrian kill people and scream. Like hot damn his line “THE GRIMM SHOULD HAVE DESTROYED OUR ENEMIES, NOT MADE THEM FRIENDS!” is so fucking raw. He’s having fun destablizing a nation with his boyfriend!

“You want more chaos than a Grimm invasion?” “If anyone on Remannt can do it, wouldn’t it be you?” There is no heterosexual explanation for how these two look at each other and yes this is me outing myself as a Nuts and Volts fan.

Watts and Tyrian really do become the absolute highlights of the season alongside James. They have a great dynamic and even during their more slower moments there’s so much care and thought put into their every mannerism. Animators, seriously, great job, I love what you did. And their fights... we’ll get there. But they’re so goddamn good.

Look they even run the same! They’re soulmates!

Honorary mention to Salem by the way. She’s only in two scenes but her presence is felt throughout Ironwood’s arc and his growing fear of her and she damn well delivers when she shows up. That shot of her arriving in person is a killer shot to end on as well.

Oh and I guess Cinder and Neo exist don’t they? Eh, we’ll come back to them.

F) Oscar got a character arc!

Finally! He did it! He got an arc that began, continued and ended all onscreen! It only took four tries!

But yeah Oscar had a really good set of scenes in Volume 7. I like him being the first to confront Ruby on the Ironwood lie, bringing up the hypocrisy after their condemning of Ozpin just last season. I like him having a more forward role (outside of not getting to be part of the celebration in episode 4 what the hell guys), and that he’s the big link between RWBY and Ironwood was a great call. Having Ozpin shelved for one more season so Oscar can take center-stage was an inspired choice. I love his dynamic with Ironwood, and how James closing himself off emotionally gets reflected in how he begins slipping in how he refers to Oscar, starting off as treating him and Oz as separate, ending with him gunning Oscar down as he doesn’t care anymore to differentiate the two.

My big issues with Oscar’s arc are that I’m first of all annoyed at the lack of followup on the Oscar stuff from V6, I’m still waiting for Qrow to apologize for punching Oscar guys! I also really wish Neo’s first attack wasn’t offscreen. CRWBY’s cliffhanger fetish meant I got to break out the Offscreen Pine jokes again. And of course, the Neo hallway punch was a bit bullshit.

G) (Most of) The fights are amazing

There’s no punchline. These fights are great, two of them are in my Top 10 Series Wide fights list and at least the duds aren’t Volume 5 bad.

If you’d told me before Volume 7 that Watts would get an extended firefight with James, I’d have felt that a bit cheap as Watts to me doesn’t feel like a fighter, more a planner who hides behind armies of mechanical soldiers. But damn if they didn’t sell me on Watts “You’ve yeed your last haw” Watts whipping out a Glock just to spite James.

This is another one of my favorite shots in the entire series.

Ironwood vs Watts is potentially my favorite fight in the entire series, and if it’s not, it’s easy Top 3 alongside Yang vs Mercury and Pyrrha vs CRDL/Mercury. It makes great use of Amity in the abandoned gravity biome meant for SSSN vs JNPR, with Ironwood and Watts deftly moving around in a manner that very easily could have been difficult to track with the constantly shifting gravity, but the crew do their best to keep it coherent as to who’s where. The credits showed their dedication also stretched into visual continuity, as James and Arthur’s route throughout the Arena was carefully considered so they’d loop around organically.

This is what I mean when I say the crew went above and beyond to keep things clean.

Ironwood vs Watts could have easily failed to impress, given its lack of choreography on the level the series usually does, but the team’s efforts went instead into showing a situation that lets Watts get a dragged out battle: James wins whenever he closes the distance here, so Arthur’s constantly on the run and being forced to tamper with the arena. Great camerawork, a GOD TIER song from Caleb Hyles that I’m still listening to today, and two characters with a fantastic history coming to blows makes for easily the best fight of the season and a series-wide highlight. Watching it develop from storyboards, to mocap, to animations and the full version is a delight to see. This is what CRWBY can do when everything comes togehter. The orchestra’s all tuned. It’s a goddamn symphony.

THIS is my favorite shot of the season.

Tyrian also gets to shine with his two battles this year. His alley fight with Qrow, Robyn and Clover is short but sweet, the corvid and the scorpion especially trading brutal blows in the cramped space. Qrow goes full Devil May Cry with his style-switching here, Harbinger being swapped between sword, tonfa and gun forms freely alongside Qrow applying The Power of Punching. His 1v1v1 with Clover and Qrow though is the true highlight of the season in terms of choreography. It’s lighting-fast, and has some impeccable shot work. Qrow gets to use his scythe with deliberate nods to the Red Trailer, Clover gets to shut up everyone who doubted his weapon, and Tyrian is just along for the ride and he makes the most of it. It’s frentic, it’s heart-pounding, it’s everything a fight should be.

Honorary mentions as well go to Ace Ops vs the Geist, which is just really fun and has a great backing music choice, the opening battle with Sabre having Ruby’s obligatory ten seconds of fighting that come at the start of every new era of the series, and the Ace Ops vs RWBY fight which has some good choreo in places.

H) Winter and Penny have good chemistry

I don’t have a ton to add here, I just like their dynamic and how they advance each other’s arcs. It’s nice writing. I also like Winter apologizing to Penny when she’s angry at Jacques and takes it out on Penny by accident with the “You wouldn’t understand” line.

Penny as a Maiden is a nice idea, I think her new design is cute. Penny says trans rights.

Those are a lot of my favorite things about Volume 7. It’s a killer season when it’s firing on all cylinders but unfortunately... it often misfires in frustrating ways, many of which are unfortunately due to core emblematic problems with the series that won’t go away.

2) The Bad Stuff

A) The costumes

It’s been a over year. It’s low hanging fruit. I don’t care. Most of them are still not good and they’re ludicrously over-designed.

Blake’s in a fetish suit and I wonder how she even goes to the bathroom. Weiss just looks like an abino Sabre alt, Yang is what a Halloween costume site would describe as “Sexy UPS Driver,” (why does she have a thigh window) Ruby... looks fine, it’s one of her better costumes. Jaune’s hair is silly, Ren’s model has lost some muscle definition and he looks like an e-boy, Nora’s costume really doesn’t fit the Atlas visual design and looks like a rejected Kingdom Hearts costume. Cinder’s is too black and I actually can’t track her in darker scenes because of it (which is kinda bad during... a fight scene... where I need to know where she is...), Neo looks like a Ren Fair cosplayer doing a bit for her OnlyFans, Winter’s is anatomically weird with super skinny arms and legs, and Blake’s hair is a fucking hate crime.

Qrow’s is one I liked at first but in retrospect it does feel like a downgrade. To quote @h-e-m-o-goblin from a Discord chat:

in a show like rwby, where color is such a vital defining aspect of every character, a cohesive colorscheme goes a long way. qrow's original outfit works great in this regard. neutral tones. greys, whites, and blacks, with red accents that pop against the otherwise sparse color. it's good! it's distinctive! it doesn't feel cluttered and it doesn't look like a clown vomited on him! the subdued colors really lend themselves to the grey, cynical energy qrow seems to carry with him. a literal lack of color in his life. the outfit itself feels like something he would wear; a combination of "clearly trying to look cool" and "a little disheveled and laid back." the design breathes, it isn't cluttered. let's contrast this with his vol 7 outfit. a lot of outfits in vol 7 suffer from this problem, but first and foremost it doesn't look like something he would wear. where his old outfit had a casual feel to it, his new look feels like someone dressed him up for a family christmas dinner. it's too... tidy. now of course you could argue this is him "cleaning up his life," but i dont feel like you have to sacrifice his own personal style in order to convey that. if that's really what they were going for, they easily could have just, oh i dont know, given him a cape that isn't tattered???

remember how i said qrow's original outfit really made his colors pop? how less is more when it comes to having a character with a specific color theme? vol 7 butchered that. we suddenly have articles of clothes that are tinted with greenish blue tones, browns, and with gold trim? on TOP of the old colors he already had in his design. it's muddy. it's ugly. the burgundy vest is fine, if they wanted to work more color into his outfit they should have done it that way throughout, shades of grey and different tones of RED. his COLOR. it just feels like they tacked so much on there without a second thought and i really think he deserves better. its just. such a mess.

The ones I did like were Watts�� new coat (I like the puffy hood), Penny’s is fine, the Ace Ops look great, Ironwood’s new outfit is stellar (those last six are great examples of how to do a lot with just primary colors of white and red), Neon’s Jolyne cosplay is cute and Flynt is slick. Otherwise, Volume 7 feels like it’s taken a lot of the wrong lessons from the costume design of the earlier seasons. Less is often more but now it feels like they have a pathological aversion to empty space on the costumes, leading them to feel like... costume vomit for lack of a better word. I didn’t love the Mistral outfits, but their modifications at least were carried by how many of them called back to the Fall of Beacon and emphasized the themes of loss in Volume 4. The new Atlas outfits... don’t have that shared theme. It feels like a hodgepodge of different design influences without trying to find a way to unify them. It’s like putting Baki the Grappler beside My Little Pony, they just fail to mesh.

Also for fuck’s sake already CRWBY just give the girls muscles already.

2) JNR suck and Ren’s arc is glorified character assassination

I don’t love JNR. They’re fine, but the show has arguably not needed them for a while and while I’ve liked them all at different points, it’s never been adoration outside of Ren in Volume 4. I was cool with the idea of them staying in Argus to help cover Mistral after its Huntsmen were wiped out, and Volume 7 has... made me wish they did that.

Jaune is just comic relief, and it kinda blows for later reasons but the big one is that he’s just not very funny. His big role in Volume 7 is basically to crosswalk some kids so we can have a joke scene during the Mantle Battle where Jaune uses his tactical genius to teach people to walk in single file. I feel like at this point Miles is just actively trying to kill Jaune’s fandom out of spite for how badly Jaundice was received. He’s never allowed to be cool or try and redeem himself. His hatedom aren’t going to stop hating Jaune because he gets more comedy guys. They’re going to stop when you write Jaune well. It’s a bummer he got some genuinely great upgrades for his sword and shield and never gets to use them outside of the opening.

Nora exists. She got a surprising amount of focus this season in that she got focus of any kind. I liked her confronting Ironwood over his choking of Mantle because we know she was once the kind of person Ironwood would have been stifling. I like her being the one to realize the loophole in Jinn’s “You can’t” line. I don’t like much else about Nora this year, or at least the Nora the writing team are pushing. She’s not funny like Jaune but Nora just absorbs so much screentime in the first half with her constant shrieking. Sam Ireland has good range but making Nora into Discount Harley Quinn is pushing her out of it. She sounds shrill, making Nora sound like she has no heart outside of the election rally. A shrill voice is one thing. A shrill voice that never lands a single joke? Yeah that character is tainted by association.

And Ren... oh God Ren what happened to you.

The Volume 7 commentary confirmed a suspicion of mine that Ren’s arc was heavily cut down from what was planned. Even watching V7 I could tell his arc was bare-bones at best, and it’s downright character assassination in places. Why is he suddenly so cold to Nora? Why is he now so obsessed with training? Why does he side with Ironwood for all of... one line which is this last between episodes 7 and 11. Ren only has two hundred words of dialoge in Volume 7 and they feel so weird in places. Ren goes from seemingly disliking Nora, to kissing her, to never referencing the kiss, to partaking in the Worst Scene Of The Season, all with no consistency. It’s not even threadbare. Ren’s arc just has no connecting tissue for so much of it! It’s insane how badly Ren was hurt by this, and I shudder to wonder how bad his Volume 8 arc will be because you know that was one of the first plotlines they cut down on when they inevitably overreached again.

I don’t know how they made Renora kissing feel unearned? But by God they found a way with how much of a trainwreck Ren’s writing is in regards to tainting this.

If Ironwood is an example of RWBY doing character writing well, Ren is the mirror image of how badly they can do. JNR really suffered from Volume 7 (also fun fact, Ren has about 200 words of dialogue? Ironwood has 4400). Maybe not to the level of irredeemable dislike? But very close to being on the same tier as Cinder of “Just go away already.” I’m not looking forward to their content in Volume 8.

3) RWBY themselves are poorly handled in Volume 7

It’s unfortunate that the actual title characters of the series are also some of this season’s weaker links. RWBY feel... superfluous to this season in a way they’ve never felt before. It’s baffling how much of the season doesn’t change if you just don’t include them, and apparently Volume 7′s first draft? Was even worse.

The commentary says that many of the RWBY moments were added later in production. Stuff like Ruby and Renora at the rally, Blake and Yang’s talk with Robyn and Ruby and Qrow’s chat were all either added in near the end of the writing or were “low priority” enough that they could have been cut which is... veyr alarming that’s stuff even the main protags have to worry about!

Ruby feels half-baked. I was looking forward to her in V7 after how V6 gave her a more dynamic personality and the focus she got in Brunswick, and having Penny’s return had me interested in seeing Ruby grapple with her emotions about it. She watched Penny die, how would it influence her to see Penny back and OK? Good question, we never get to see it. Ruby’s just OK with Penny’s return, the one time they touch on it Penny immediately glosses over it. Ruby just goes back to her old happy go lucky persona where any and all negative emotions are immediately forced down instead of confronting them and growing from them. I’m getting a little tired of Ruby bottling her grief and being teased about finally getting her snapping like a Twix Bar. We finally got her crying and it lasted all of ten seconds. And it doesn’t help that Ruby’s still getting shafted for fights. Her scythe choreography has no excuse being as flacid as it is now after Qrow vs Clover showed they can do scythe fighting! Why is Ruby being upstaged by (let’s be real) a supporting character! Why is she being limited to ten seconds of good combat then nothing for the rest of the season outside of flimsily swinging it or shooting. It’s disappointing, especially after how good V6 Ruby was.

I swear, Gravity’s not just my favorite episode of the season just because Ruby finally cries in it.

Weiss was kinda just done dirty though. At least Ruby has a good outfit. Weiss confronting her father has been a long standing plot thread for the series, it’s been Weiss’s Big Thing since the White Trailer. And when Jacques finally appears, he’s very... bland. He’s just evil corporate dude who exists less as an obstacle for Weiss and more just a roadblock for the plot through the election. Weiss finally gets a chance to take her father down and work to redeem her family name... but instead of earning said victory and it being treated with the same gravitas and emotional weight as Blake defeating Adam... Weiss has her victory handed to her. And it’s played for comedy by her abusrdly attractive mother.

Listen, I like I Willow Schnee. I think she’s a fascinating character and I like the idea of a person who is aware of the harm they’ve done by accident but is too broken to fix the issues she accidentally left. I love her calling Weiss out on her treatment of Whitley. But she is absolutely a Deus Ex Machina that exists to get Jacques out of the plot as fast as possible. You mean to tell me Hackerman Watts never once made sure Jacques had hidden cameras? Or that none of the staff found Willow’s cameras and reported them under the assumption they were White Fang spies? It’s so... convenient. It’s handing Weiss her victory on an unearned platter. Which sucks. I was really looking forward to Weiss beating Jacques. Instead she just gets given the plot device while JNR engage in the Worst Scene of The Season in that Whitley food stunt.

Me whenever I’m asked to rewatch Cordially Invited

Blake and Yang have much the same problems, in they never separate. I know they’re going to be together. I know CRWBY are making it canon (get it over with already). I still would like Yang and Blake to have individual character scenes. I’d like Blake and Marrow to talk about being a Faunus Huntsman in Atlas (another thing that got cut thanks to Robyn Hill). I want Yang and Ironwood to discuss their PTSD and have Yang thank Ironwood for his trust in her that he commissioned the arm despite Yang attacking Mercury. I want Blake to be well animated in fight scenes so she’s doing more than just jobbing so Yang looks better. I want Yang to stop hogging all the good Team RWBY choeography. I want them to interact with other characters and continue to grow instead of feeling like two halves of one character. And no, making a meta joke of how Blake and Yang don’t talk to other people doesn’t make it OK. It just means you’re self aware about your own faults.

(Also give Yang better merch or quit the favoritism. If you’re gonna milk her, put effort into it beyond crapply overpriced flannel. RT’s merch store is actively making me hate Yang.)

Team RWBY’s biggest contribution to the season is the Ironwood Lie which is... a can of worms. They certainly had a point in withholding some of the bigger truths from James but I feel by Pomp and Cirumstance he’d proven himself truthwrothy enough to warrant being told the truth about Salem. But then when he’s finally told the truth, it’s offscreen’d and the consequence isn’t “Why didn’t you tell me earlier” but “Fucking Ozpin man.” Gravity has it bite them in the ass, but it’s more an accessory to Yang and Blake telling Robyn about the Amity tower. I wish more had been done with the team disagreeing on whether the lie was a good choice or not, maybe have Yang be hardline against it due to her own “No more lies and half truths” policy instead of... having Yang tell more lies and half truths (Commentary confirms she never told Ruby and Weiss about the Robyn stuff BTW). But that’s a wider problem where RWBY aren’t allowed to disagree beyond surface level “I don’t know if this is the right call” dialogue. There’s never a threat of one of them cracking and just spilling the beans to James, everyone just blindly trusts Ruby and Qrow tells the audience “No this is different from when Ozpin lied. Trust us.”

This is the most RWBY get for content in the season finale: Ruby just nuking Cinder with no difficulty after having trouble with the eyes three episodes ago. Kinda lame tbh.

Team RWBY are just disappointing in Volume 7. They’re not given good animation, their story roles are largely insignificant, the impact of their roles on the story is threadbare and... well most of their costumes suck don’t @ me even CRWBY have admitted Blake and Weiss’s haircuts looked bad. It’s a whole barrage of a letdown for the main girls. And it’s really sad that the best scenes of the season... are usually the ones where RWBY are nowhere in sight.

Why the hell didn’t Yang get to keep the sunglasses come on guys. One job.

4) Robyn, the election plot, and the Happy Huntresses

Oh God, Robyn Hill is... not great. I could and likely will write a full meta on her character and how they bungled it but I’ll just be blunt here: I don’t like her design, the colors don’t mesh well, he head’s too small, Christina Vee is sleeping through the role and her weapon’s lame. Introducing her in a scene where she threatens to attack our heroes, and her agents are actively sneaking up on them to do it, is not a great first impression for a hometown hero. And that the commentary thinks she’s meant to be the hero in that scene is... staggering.

RWBY’s greatest threat yet is a wine mom Karen and her Home Owners Association army.

The election plot is less a misfire and more the engine just exploding. There’s so little good content between when it’s introduced and concluded, with it usually being individual scenes that are more good in spite of their connection to the plot (such as Tyrian’s massacre). It drags in pacing, going on for nearly half the season between episodes 5 and 10, and it purely exists as a roadblock to keep RWBY spinning their wheels while Watts and Tyrian keep going with the main plot. I don’t know why CRWBY went for this plot. They could have easily had something else fill the gap that also allowed for a lot of the character beats (such as Marrow and Blake’s talk and Ren’s entire arc) to shine, or at least condensed it to the important elements instead of letting it become bloated. It ends in such an unsatisfying way where Willow just shows up and goes “We have four episode left, here’s the plot device to beat Jacques, get back ot the main plot.” If they wanted to do the election plot, the best route would have been to give Volume 7 more episodes or stretch out its events to two seasons, but neither is realistically possible while RWBY lives off the teat of AT&T.

Jacques and Robyn are just boring. Evil corporate man and a lame adaptation of Robyn Hood who only has fans because of thirst who also like downplaying Robyn making a racist remark at Marrow (to say nothing of that weird subsection of Robyn fans who make her a Fox Faunus who cut her tail off to join Atlas Academy which is... certainly a creative choice especially when Marrow and Neon are punching holes in that angsty BS backstory). They can’t carry this plot and the artifical attempts to make it seem more exciting with the two cliffhaners ending on Mantle under riot or Grimm attack are laughably cut short by the next episode in each case opening the morning after. On binge watch it becomes weirdly funny more than anything and that’s not a good reaction. The dual cliffhangers being cheaply resolved is a short but succint example of V7′s pacing issues, and they almost always loop around to the election plot being too bloated, slow and just boring.

Also the Happy Huntresses are just... lame. I like their Semblances but that’s it. Fiona’s OK because she gets some screentime but May’s just “the surly one” and Joanna doesn’t even get her Semblance or much dialogue (oh wow she really is just a female Sage Ayana isn’t she). Robyn should not have been leading the HH and running for Council. That’s really stupid. And kind of wrong. Having May or Fiona be running instead while Robyn leads the team in relief efforts would have been better and could have split the focus more effeciently instead of leaving May and especially Joanna feelng like roster padding. There’s also some delicious irony in the show trying to frame the HH as the resistance fighting for the people and representing individuality, only for them all to have the same boring outfit and weapons (I think even the exact same model just with different sizes) while the Ace Ops are meant to be the military drones who are “Just following orders,” only for them to be more racially diverse, more diverse body-type-wise, and have more unique weapons. It’s another one of those odd creative dissconnects between what the writers wanted and what the artists/animation teams chose to do.

The election plot is overall toxin for Volume 7, and Robyn in my opinion, has one of the worst introductory scenes of any character in the franchise (and CRWBY have tacitly admitted that V7 had a character they were surprised at how controversial they were, which has to be Robyn). In a year where they were already juggling so much content and characters, adding in this bloated subplot was something I don’t think anyone wanted, especially now that we know we lost so much content on the sacrificial altar for this. It’s a black mark on the season and I don’t really care for the return of the Happy Huntresses or Robyn in Volume 8. None of them are interesting enough to care for outside of meta reasons like “cute.”

Also fuck you Fiona, can’t believe you got a shirt before Ironwood.

5) Cinder and Neo sure exist

To be fair, this is one of Cinder’s best years, easily her best since Volume 3 but that’s more because Cinder in the Mistral era was crap. (And if I wanna be cruel, because Cinder wasn’t in two thirds of the season)Her fans were finally vindicated after years of telling anyone who dunked on Cinder that “nooooo she has a super covert backstory that’s gonna be amazing when it’s revealed! You’ll see!” And well they finally got it. All of one line during a fight about how Cinder “refuses to starve.”

It’s still something so I guess we have to take it. Seriously... how do we still not have Cinder’s backstory.

There’s just not a ton to say about Cinder and Neo in V7 barring I that don’t think they needed to be here. They feel very superfluous and just here to have a big boss fight in Cinder’s case alongside continuing her streak of ending the odd numbered seasons fighting a female side character... which for me became an exercise in tyring to find during Cinder during the damn fight.

And this is why when most people saw Cinder’s V6 outfit they went “It’s gonna be hard to see her in darker environments,” then were vindicated when it became legit difficult to see Cinder in this scene. God if they at least just made the inside of the cape red it’d be easier.

Neo is Neo, which means she makes funny faces and mocks Cinder (I like that), but she doesn’t get a super good fight which uh... we’ll get to. I’m interested to see her finally exploding at Cinder and going for a backstab, but really Neo in V7 was kinda hit hard by the double whammy of the Oscar Hallway Punch and how humiliating ORNJ vs Neo was for ORNJ. Cinder’s definitely had far worse years and after how aimless she was in Mistral this feels like a sep in the right direction, but at this point CRWBY just need to shut up and tell us her deal. It’s been seven years guys. Come on. At least make her interesting if she’s gonna say around. They’ve had worse years, but unfortunately Cinder and Neo’s role in the finale leads into...

6) Some of the fights weren’t good

I wanna be clear, I like most of Volume 7′s fights. It’s just a bummer the worst ones are back and back and make up a chunk of the finale. ORNJ vs Neo is just crap. It’s the worst fight since the Battle of Haven. There’s nothing else I can say, it’s poorly animated, paced, choreographed and written. JNR especially are made to look like complete jokes after they spent all season training, to the point where it looks like V2 Yang could solo V7 JNR after this. Oscar I expect this from because he’s not allowed to have fun stuff onscreen after accidentally stealing the Haven budget for his fight with Hazel, but JNR were just done dirty. There were ways to make the fight work in a way where Neo still won but JNR looked good. They went for the worst possible outcome that just leaves Neo looking like she got fan-wanked and JNR looking like they’re just not allowed to be cool due to Miles’ spite at the Jaune-Self Insert stuff (and that’s not even getting into JNR being forced to run from lame rent a cops who can’t even handle a single Grimm). Cinder vs Winter and Penny isn’t much better, with her dark outfit making it very hard to track the fight because she blends into the background too well. It’s not a great showing for Winter or Penny given their earlier feats but, hey, some random female character had to fight Cinder in this odd numbered volume, carrying on Glynda, Pyrrha and Raven’s tradition. It’s at least better than ORNJ vs Neo, but that’s really not saying anything. At least Cinder’s VA work isn’t too bad this time but this fight commits the cardinal sin of a finale fight: It’s just not super interesting because we know Cinder can’t kill both Winter and Penny and she’s not becoming a Maiden, while Winter’s been too blatantly set up so it has to be Penny.

RWBY vs the Ace Ops also gets a dishonorable mention due to the choreography on display here... and the lack of it for Weiss, Blake and Ruby. Ruby never once swings Crescent Rose the entire fight and is just reduced to getting the tar kicked out of her by Harriet. Weiss barely gets to use her sword and largely just sticks to her summoning and glyphs which makes for a very visually uninteresting fighting style at the best of times. Blake just swings around and gets caught by the bad guys so Yang is motivated to fight stronger. She never dual wields (again) and her best moves are just setting up Yang to do all the hard work while Yang gets to personally KO two of the Ace Ops. There’s a lot that can be said about whether or nor RWBY earn the win, but while the animation team try to sell the Ace Ops landing heavy hits, having only Blake’s Aura even flicker really undercuts the idea from the commentary that this wasn’t meant to be a stomp for RWBY and they had to work together and be in synch to win.

Which is why Yang solos two of the Ace Ops whle Blake plays support, Weiss beats Marrow alone and then kill steals Harriet from Ruby, all while the song playing is an extended diss track from RWBY to the Ace Ops about how badass they are now, and the commentary itself says the Ace Ops are hard carried by Clover’s Semblance (because you gotta love basically saying four POC were only competent because a white guy led them, and then have them lose because said white guy wasn’t around to carry them!). Great job guys, you really sold it.

And talking of Clover, I feel it worth mentioning Qrow vs Clover vs Tyrian. It’s animation wise near perfect, but unfortunately I do feel it would be remiss to not mention that I feel the writing really has to bend over backwards to justify this fight. A lot of it is stuff I would say in that hypothetical Robyn essay, but I feel Robyn, Qrow and Clover all have to become massive idiots for this specific sequence of events to occur, and for Clover especially every retroactive attempt to explain why he prioritized Qrow over Tyrian just sounds more and more desperate. Between the references to MCU Captain America (a person whose entire arc is about learning when it’s OK to defy bad orders) or the attempt in the commentary to say “Oh Clover thought it would be easier to take out Tyrian alone instead of Qrow,” none of them land and just further drive home how much the plot had to stretch and reach to get that moment of Tyrian killing Clover. I like the fight. But I hate the road the show took to get there.

Some of the misc fights are also weak like ORNJ vs FNKI and elements of the Mantle Grimm battle, but those are the big offenders. Otherwise, again, the fights are largely good.

7) The soundtrack wasn’t... great

I mean the vocal songs only, don’t crucify me. Trust Love is just lamer Let’s Just Live/Triumph, Celebrate and Let’s Get Real are so boring I thought they were the same song until the OST dropped, Brand New Day is boringly peppy and Jeff’s vocals are dreadful. I completely forgot Touch the Sky until I was checking the tracklist to make sure I didn’t forget any songs. War has good singers but tries to sell the RWBY-Ace Ops bond as way deeper than it was. The lack of a villain song did really sting though, those are always the highlights.

There are good songs. I really like Fear, I feel it encapsulates the themes of the volume well and serves as a good condemnation of Ironwod’s mentality. Until The End is finally the Ruby song I’ve waited for since Red Like Roses 2 and I enjoy that she got a melancholic song, and Hero is easily, hands down, best track of the record and probably best RWBY track, full stop. Caleb killed it, I loved the second verse, opening opera was strong, guitar riffs were a plenty. Stellar work all around for that one.

The OST has great work from Jeff and Alex as usual, but the Jeff and Casey songs are really starting to lose their appeal. Going for a peppy feel this year didn’t help cover the cracks that are beginning to show with RWBY’s vocal songs (especially Jeff’s vocal range), and while a few standouts remain such as Fear and Hero, they are the slim minority in an otherwise very boring vocal tracklist that barely scrapes above Volume 5 for weakest set yet.

8) It wasn’t as funny as it thought it was

Comedy is subjective but man a lot of these jokes didn’t land. RWBY really needs to realize that does work in traditional 2D does not translate into 3D and just comes off as making official reaction GIFs for your Twitter account. Making characters SUDDENY SCREAM LOUDLY is not good banter. Please stop making Nora into Harley Quinn. Marrow was probably the most consistently funny character but that was it. Also I dunno why CRWBY thought Forrest was funny or what the deal was with that FRWBY crap.

“Honorary” mention to the JNR food scene in Cordially Invited which is genuinely one of the worst scenes in the entire show and I hope whoever animated it has their save files deleted for a game where they were about to beat the final boss. Nothing sums up JNR’s pointlessness in the series more perfectly than this.

C) Conclusion

See what I mean about Volume 7 being frustrating?

It’s weird that I overal think of Volume 7 as a mid-tier volume. There’s so much here I genuinely adore, with some of the best stuff to do with the show coming out of this season (barring lame, overpriced merch that feels like clothing gacha), but simultaneously the whole thing is let down by outside circumstances that unfortunately are ones the show can’t ever really recover from. Put bluntly, Volume 7 is the most technically proficient season of the show with the best lighting, backdrops, (some of the) character models, etc. CRWBY definitely didn’t slack off this year, but the problem isn't with them. It’s with the writing. A wider reaching problem is just that Miles and Kerry can’t really improve to the level that the series now requires. Eddy and Kiersei’s first season could have gone far worse, but it definitely was notable whenever they took over. Volume 7’s core problems are fourfold: The comedy is terrible and none of the jokes really land, the season focuses on the wrong plots and gives them too much effort, too many episodes are spent building up to new plots only for them to be weakly resolved (especially the Mantle Riot/Grimm attacks that are shoved off-screen), and the character bloat strikes hard here and leaves a lot of the cast feeling like dead weight. CRWBY don’t need more writers. They need more editors willing to tell the team what has to go instead of them hemming and hawing themselves on if they if they can include a plotline. The election never should have gotten past its first draft, there was too much already in this season before adding that.

When this is an unironic shot in your series... you’ve got character bloat issues.

At this point, I think JNR need to go. The show had no idea what to do with them throughout the season, leading to Jaune just being comic relief while Ren and Nora became characters I actively dislike. Renora was the easiest ship in the show to land, and they still managed to blow the engines and ram at least three icebergs just to prove that RWBY can’t romance to save its life. Team RWBY themselves are little better, with Ruby’s feelings about Penny’s return being shelved, Weiss’s victory against Jacques feeling un-earned and undercut by comedy, while Yang and Blake are benched for the volume and become a singular entity with how tied at the hip they are. Maria basically yeeted herself out of the show and I didn’t notice, Pietro is just a death flag, and while the Ace Ops had a good intro, it was undercooked by how they had to play the villain role to give RWBY something to do in the final hours. Cinder and Neo didn’t need to be here. Robyn had one of the worst introductions for a character I’ve ever seen, I never enjoyed her moments and it genuinely feels like she only has a fandom because RWBY’s community are in fact that desperate.

On the brighter side, Ironwood’s arc is fucking perfect and Jason Rose deserves all the love. Great fight, great song, great design, love the beard, it was a perfect downfall for Volume 7’s true protagonist. Qrow had a fun volume and I loved his dynamic with Clover (I don’t see the ship stuff but that’s more because I’m an IronQrow main so my blinders were on). Clover was also way cooler than I remembered. His fights stood out but the guy’s just really cool at the end of the day, with Chris doing great work as a VA. Oscar even managed to do stuff this year which was a shock and a half, but a welcome shock and a half. I didn’t mention it, but the Ozpin fear monologue is one of my favorite scenes in the entire show and it and the Ironwood/Oscar confrontation in the vault save the finale. And of course, Watts and Tyrian were the MVPs. I don’t have a bad word about either of them, they fucking nailed their roles and I can’t wait to see them again.

And that’s kind of what I mean when I say Volume 7 flummoxes me. It’s frustrating at times with how it handles seemingly easy tasks and drops the ball. Renora went from “everyone liked that” to wondering how badly Ren’s stuff got butchered for him to be the way he is. RWBY themselves could be almost entirely cut and so little would change, and the fact that the finale basically hinges its entire emotional stakes on Winter, Penny and Oscar is a staggering call. And it really feels like the season was compressed beyond necessity because they decided going in that Volume 7 had to end on Salem’s arrival. There’s two volumes worth of material here, and maybe it would have been best to have broken up these events. Volume 7 does too much in too little time, and RWBY especially suffered from it. But when it works… it’s good. Never close to the highs of Volumes 6 or 3, but there’s genuinely good material here. The fights are mostly getting better with far less missteps than previously, the acting (mostly) continues to improve and it’s obvious that RWBY is a very good looking show at this point. Ironwood’s arc is franchise-wide highs, I loved Clover, and Marrow remains the best boi. But it’s frustrating that despite all the tech advances Volume 7 has made, it still makes such threadbare, rookie writing mistakes in cast management, comedy and character arcs. I’m glad Miles and Kerry finally realized that they needed more writers, but it won’t mean anything if the show just continues to circle the drain on the core mistakes it’s been making since 2013. Volume 7 has good in it. But I can see where it could have been great.

Thanks for reading, stan IronQrow and please get Whitley a therapist.

And for the love of God already make an Ironwood vs Watts shirt!

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coweggomelet · 3 years

Text

volume 6 lads

from what i remember this one is similar to 4 in that it gives us a bit of an emotional break

don’t get me wrong i know there’s some stuff but i think overall it’s a little less intense

- ahhhh they’re all fighting together againnn it feels so right

- hey. hey yang and blake. i’m gonna need you to stop. cause my little heart can’t take it

- this dude really was challenged once and had a full blown murder tantrum. that’s fragility my guy

- ruby is SO CUTE look at her little happy face

- oh yeah. take a train. you guys have a great track record with trains

- i also keep getting like three versions of the same ad about getting vaccinated and it’s got all these workers from tv & movie sets and it’s so awkward this one guy looks so annoyed during his whole part

- it’s not just the turrets y’all oz is withholding shit once again

- don’t fuckin shove my boy!!

- i love that qrow immediately steps back when ruby comes forward. like he 100% respects not only her authority as a team leader but also her ability to solve situations and talk to people. he knows man. he knows his niece is something else

- MARIAAAAA MY GIRLL YES

- uh oh the train crashed. who could’ve seen that coming

- cinder really is just too angry and spite filled to die isn’t she

- hehe maria you’re funny

- it’s so funny that oz is still refusing to tell them everything knowing that everything is revealed in the next episode

- oh oz. i know he was your friend. but all these kids saw was the insane amount of harm and death he caused. trying to defend him to them is not gonna go well

- oscaarrr i love you!! you’re so good!!

- oooo chills

- uuugghh i love jinn she’s so cool

- oz. my dude. the ship has sailed. you can’t stop this anymore

- this, my friends, is what we call a lore episode

- this whole sequence gives me chills it’s so gooood

- eurgh i hate how the god of darkness moves like i get it it’s part of the aesthetic but you really don’t need to do that it’s creepy

- salem was so smart to use a super powerful sibling rivalry to get what she wanted

- she really didn’t deserve to watch the love of her live just get revived and killed over and over again

- jeez the gods are assholes. they’re all oooohh maintain balance and then they torture a woman who just wanted her husband back by making her live forever. for what??? for daring to be smart?? ugh

- c’mon gods you gotta respect the hustle

- you think that making someone immortal will make them realize the importance of life and death?? idiots

- god her face

- she’s so smart what the FUCK

- “the hearts of men are easily swayed” really reminds me of galadriel’s “the hearts of men are easily corrupted” in lotr

- a couple hundred humans attack them and the god of darkness decides “you know what? i’m gonna eliminate all of humanity. that feels like the right choice. yeah. i feel good about this.”

- the fact that salem wasn’t even like… a real villain until she tried to kill herself in order to escape her torture and suffering and the grimm juice made her Big Mad

- like it wasn’t even her, it was the grimm juice. i really do believe that without that she wouldn’t have become salem the Villain

- i’m sorry i don’t know a ‘deathly hallows’ i only know the relics

- ohhh fuck i forgot about this!!! oh rwby’s totally gonna end with the gods judging humanity when the relics are brought together. maybe not end end but it’s definitely gonna be close to the end and it’ll be a Big Thing where they strategize about how to convince the gods that humanity is good

- obviously the first maidens weren’t their kids but boy is there a theme going on here. and maybe even something plot relevant cause their kids could do magic

- all the main characters being able to witness this and us seeing their reactions is such a good touch like god, the impact of this reality is so much heavier because we get to see the characters actually affected by it react to watching it unfold before them

- ohhh my boy. you didn’t deserve this burden before but now that you know fully what it means you really don’t deserve it. i mean look at him!!!

- oh qrow!!! you are doing good! i mean i get it, your whole world’s been shattered and the man you gave your life to lied to you about a lot of important shit but you are doing good i promise!!

- fuck yeah maria use your sassy wise old lady authority

- oh god emerald you poor thing you’re just a babey— oh god i felt salem’s hand on emerald’s shoulder fuck dude this show is so effective

- truly, this is a master class in manipulation

- uh oh salem your ex is back

- UH OH ITS THE FARM RUN YALL

- i like that weiss is wearing what looks like very thin tights, a strapless dress, a lil jacket thing, and the animators said “here she’s got a scarf she’s warm now”

- ruby didn’t kill torchwood y’all, he got chomped. like a lil bitch

- oh god this episode

- yaaaayyy

- before this episode my friend went “you ready for some horror?” and was grinning

- oh yeeeaaah the corpses. lovely

- god as soon as they opened the door to where the cellar entrance is it immediately started affecting weiss

- oh the DOOR nope no thank you get the fuck OUT

- watching this show with my friend was also the origin of me being sad cause this shit is sad and her going “oh i’m having a great time” and this episode in particular she was enjoying herself WAY TOO MUCH if you ask me

- little jump scares kept getting me and she LAUGHED and said “that got you?!?” YES it DID i’m a WUSS

- oh the journals!!! the way they incorporated that was so interesting and added SUCH good creepiness and suspense without giving it all away or ramping it up too fast

- ruby’s so good i love her!!

- uuugghh it’s getting them already how haven’t they noticed???

- the eyes got me good the first time

- their weird fuckin attitudes were the creepiest part of this episode

- ruby said not my friends you bitches

- mariaaaa i love you you’re so smart

- god when they’re reading from the journal at the very end…

- neo’s so tiny!!

- talk about some girlbosses

- MARIAAAAA YOURE SUCH A BADASS i love her backstory

- love her outfit too

- OOOO THE FUCKIN CROCODILE CLOCK LADY ooooo this is so cooooool

- the ticking!!!!

- oh maria you poor thing. but also you’re so smart like that was such a good move

- aww haha qrow’s a fan. awww he based his weapon off hers!! we love a fanboy

- “i wanted to be as good as the grimm reaper.” “well, im nothing but a disappointment, so you’re well on your way” DAMN MARIA SAVAGE

- oh nice they made to argus! NOW SHOW ME THE BABY

- “CUTE BOY OZ” me too nora

- THE BAAAABBYYYY

- and jaune’s sister and her wife!! I LOVE THEIR GAY LIL FAMILY

- yang is good with kids. marry me

- YOURE GODDAMN RIGHT THATS A BABY AND I LOVE HIM

- HUN!! god i love saph and terra

- “shut up there’s food!” heh me too ruby

- aahhh cordo

- she and maria are totally exes who had a bad breakup and now they hate each other. a tenzin/lin situation if you will

- jaune… my boy… i know you’re angry but oscar is really trying his best

- “i don’t know anything” me neither ruby

- wait cinder didn’t have her grimm arm yet so how did ruby’s ability trigger?

- uh oh my boy’s missing

- remember when you were having fun being the bad guy emerald. remember that. it’s almost like… it was only fun for you cause cinder was there

- it makes me so sad that not only did emerald actually believe that cinder cared about her, but she actually considered cinder family and her emotional health was so connected to cinder being there

- “all you ever learned was pain and violence and now you’re too afraid to leave it” tyrian excuse me i’m the one with the commentary and analysis that’s rude stay in your lane

- oh god oh fuck. the pyrrha statue is comin up isn’t it

- AH FUCK THE LEAF

- oh there she is. my love

- i still wanna know who this lady is. like she’s even the same voice actor as pyrrha. and she’s got red hair. i don’t think pyrrha ever talked about family members, but my money’s on her mom

- this moment fuckin got me dude. i was doing the full tearing up, lil sniffles, choked up thing. uuuuggghh

- god they love each other so much

- i am NOT gonna cry again

- oh qrow. you poor thing

- THE BABYYYY HI ADRIAN DO YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU

- young man!! you scared us half to death! do you know what time it is??

- his lil outfit i i looovveee hiiimm

- oscarrr!! you’re so sweet!!

- THE CASSEROLE

- FUCK YEAH RUBY TELL HIM

- qrow’s like… damn. ruby’s right

- here we goooo infiltration time

- oh FUCK yeah they kill adam soon

- adrian what a smart babyyyy i love youu

- hehehehehe maria is luggage

- honestly this is such a good plan it just goes to shit cause these kids can’t catch a fuckin break

- y’all need. to stop. looking. at each other. like that.

- qrow stop being emo

- mariaaaa i love youuuu you’re such a great old lady

- uh ohhhh problems with blake

- i would love it if they used qrow’s semblance strategically. like in some sort of heist/infiltration situation, sending him behind enemy lines to fuck up their luck

- ruby’s so good at speeches

- depressed? feeling bad about yourself? feeling emo and riddled with guilt? just get a Ruby Speech(TM) and you'll be cured!

- qrow’s face

- oh yeaaaahhh big metal guy

- cordo

- hey cordo

- are you uh

- maybe takin it a lil too far

- why are so many atlas military people so fuckin intense with maintaining order and big shows of power and controlling other people???

- ADAM YOU BITCH YOURE GONNA DIE

- yeah you’re a source of trauma for her but GUESS WHAT SHE HAS A SUPPORT SYSTEM

- at this point dude it’s real pathetic how obsessed with blake you are

- thank god for auras or falling damage would be a much bigger problem

- cordo can you maybe chill

- weiss earthbended!!

- jaune you’re so smart

- ren said things may be complicated but boy oh boy do i care about that strong lightning lady

- “rightfully in charge??” shut up cordo and go be gay with maria

- noooo her fun coat!!

- oooo Dramatic waterfalls

- YES BITCH IM SO PROUD OF YOU YOUVE LEARNED SO MUCH

- adam i’ll kill you

- YEEEAHHHH WHAT AN ENTRANCE YANG MARRY MEEEE

- aaaaggghh the music holy shit

- i love how the fight scenes progress through the volumes it’s so cool

- the parallels between yang and adam are also really interesting. like their semblances, their tendency to lead with strong emotions. interesting

- ooooo he doesn’t like when they look at each other hehehehehe SHE HAS A GIRLFRIEND NOW BITCH HAHA

- HOLDING HAANDSSS THEYRE SO GAY

- he’s so basic too. like he looks like a frat boy.

- y’all do your jobs. there’s a big water boy coming but you don’t know cause you’re too busy being goddamn bootlickers

- oscar is so smart and ruby is so brave i love themmm

- uh oh cordo it’s a ruby speech watch out

- ya she is nuts

- THEYRE GONNA WIN CAUSE THEYRE IN LOVE

- ya but you’re a bitch adam and yang is fuckin amazing

- I LOVE THIS FIGHTTTT

- yeet the blake

- FUCK YEAH YANG GET HIM

- i fucking love that they killl him with the pieces of blake’s weapon. like there’s something to that. they kill him with the pieces of a thing he destroyed

- if he wasn’t dead enough he got crunched too

- I LOVE THEM

- hahahahaaaaa cordo they got you

- yeah cordo!!! argus is danger cause you were more worried about fucking “proving the might of atlas” or whatever against some teenagers you fool

- ohhhh shiiiittt cinder’s atlas outfit!! they’re going to a super cold snowy place and cinder said you know what i should wear short shorts and a sleeveless top with super tall boots and a lil cape. that’ll work. and she’s right. it does. have i mentioned i love cinder?

- uh oh big boy swims watch out

- cordo shut up this your own fuckin hubris

- god cordo’s desperation is so heartbreaking

- when are people gonna learn to trust ruby and her friends man

- their willingness to keep fighting and risk their lives and also a Ruby Speech(TM) made cordo believe in them which i love

- i love jinn she likes lil ruby and her friends

- hi summerrrr

- cordoooo i’m so proud of you. she gave up part of this insane symbol of atlas’s power to help ruby and her friends. like she put aside her own ego and i’m so proud of her

- fuck yeah!!!

- awww such a good uncle

- damnnn atlas is gorgeous

- even mercury is terrified by salem’s weird grimm shit

- the fuckin wicked witch with her flying gorillas

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eggytranslations · 3 years

Text

Volume 1, Chapter 13-Voice Loss

Content warning: nsfw, knife

Shen Qingxuan did not expect that doing this thing would be like this, with such a hard to describe taste that could not be put into words. Every time that thing viciously plunged itself in, hitting his blazing depths just so, it would bring about waves of crippling ecstasy, making a person crave even more. His waist had already softened completely. Under Yi Mo, he could not help but sway along with his rhythm, letting out broken cries. In response to the excessive friction, moist fluids secreted from his inner passage, and in this primitive rhythm, wet squelches sounded out. As the time drew on, the sticky sound of water gradually grew louder, adding to the obscene atmosphere. Looking above him with a blurred gaze, Shen Qingxuan instinctively arched his waist, letting his ass be raised up high to make it easier for the other man to plunder him. He only felt like that place which was usually ignored was now being attacked by waves of tingling numbness, diverging as they spread throughout his limbs and body, his entire body in ecstasy.

“Feels that good?” Yi Mo looked down at his lax expression from above, and, in a mocking manner, lightly pinched the peak on Shen Qingxuan’s chest. “Listen for yourself, it’s really wet.”

A murmured “wu,” and Shen Qingxuan hugged his shoulders tighter. After he regained his senses, he refused to respond to him. He was also so embarrassed that his entire face was completely red, Exactly, why is it so wet? That place is not even used to do this, and yet it had become this wet. It is simply inconceivable.

His waiting did not yield a response, so Yi Mo stopped, stilling inside his body, motionless again, only satisfied if he could force an answer out of him.

Shen Qingxuan had just reached the best part, but with this sudden halt, he nearly lost his mind. His waist almost immediately started to rock instinctively, rubbing in a coquettish manner, his mouth moaning since he refused to satisfy his wish, yet he could not endure the tides of desire which were like a flood. The secret place that now knew this sweet taste could not be appeased and would not stop. The place that had been passively receiving was now actively tightening like a small, wet and soft mouth, tenderly enveloping Yi Mo’s root, continuously sucking.

This sort of aura forced even Yi Mo to lightly knit his brows but he still did not move. Compared to sensual desire, which was something he could be well with or without, teasing Shen Qingxuan was a little more entertaining to him.

Shen Qingxuan knew this point and immediately felt irked. He practically whipped up his head insolently and bit him on the neck, fiercely, almost seeing blood. “Are you going to move or not?” Shen Qingxuan asked, the desire going to his head. He did not even realize what kind of shocking thing he was doing at the moment. Yi Mo raised his eyebrows, looking at the Elder Young Master of the Shen family who was currently “forcing rape”, his tone was rather cheerful as he asked, “Move how?”

“You......” Shen Qingxuan started speaking, but could not get the words out. His feelings of lust and “being paid back” surged up together. He could only feel as if a giant rock was pressing down on his heart; angered, his eyes turned red all of a sudden. He said irately, “That’s enough, you!”

Yi Mo saw him in this state, and understood the principle of quitting while ahead, so he pulled at the little peaks on Shen Qingxuan’s chest, his fingertip kneading them as he exclaimed, “This time I am really servicing you.”

Hearing this, Shen Qingxuan turned his face away to look at the gauzy green bed curtain. It was unknown what he was thinking about.

Yi Mo started to move once again, this time he did not tease him, thrusting his hips to force open a crack in that tender and moist secret place, fiercely penetrating it. Each time deeper than the last, each time harder than the last. The sound of water started up again, flooding the small space enveloped by the bed curtain.

Shen Qingxuan had previously been teased to anger, and he did not want to pay any mind to him. So Yi Mo moved as he bent down, one hand fixed on his leg that could not feel and one hand wrapping behind his neck, to take the man into his embrace. Except, he still asked, “Am I making you feel good?”

Doing this thing and being angry, Shen Qingxuan himself thought it was ridiculous. He originally planned to give in, make up to how they were before and properly finish doing this thing before talking about anything else. Who could have guessed that Yi Mo’s movements were clearly coaxing, yet he would ask such a thing again. Shen Qingxuan’s face did not know whether it should be red or if it should be black.

It was truly hard for it to be red or black. When he encountered this old snake yao, there really were not any tricks he could employ. After these thoughts passed through his mind, Shen Qingxuan shut his eyes and answered seriously and through clenched teeth, “Very good!”

“Since it’s good, why is there no reaction here?” Yi Mo’s hand slid between their bodies and took Shen Qingxuan’s thing in his hand to play with. “Are you lying to me?” “......Probably pissed off because of you.” As Shen Qingxuan said this, he laughed as well, embracing his neck again, and said lowly into Yi Mo’s ear, “If you play with it, then it will have a reaction.”

“Here?” Yi Mo applied pressure to the soft thing in his hand that was still leaking clear fluid non stop and gave it a pinch while he also lifted his hips, and after a pause, vigorously drove himself in, asking, “Or here?”

Shen Qingxuan let out an “ah,” his whine was long and saccharine sweet, possessing a wantonness that shocked even himself. He swiftly bit his lower lip, stifling the sound before he lifted his hips with a tremble. His voice was like a mosquito buzz, “I want it all.” Then he paused briefly, using his cheek to nuzzle Yi Mo’s cheek, and said with a haltingly hoarse voice, “Kiss me.”

At this moment, all his clothes had been taken off, legs wide open, ass raised, and wet sounds came bubbling from between his legs. The clear white curve of his waist was also bent into an inconceivable angle, working hard to receive pleasure as he was fucked until his long hair fell loose and his eyes contained lust. His appearance was clearly scandalous, yet he still haltingly said this line. His words were grief-stricken and sentimental in a way that was unable to be hidden. It was even a few degrees more obscene than a brothel prostitute who acted coquettish all day. Yet it possessed no fakery, his obscenity was sincere and candid.

Yi Mo did not hesitate, he lowered his head and kissed him. As soon as their lips touched, Shen Qingxuan rushed to meet him. It seemed he was just about to reach the peak, even his tongue was so fierce it lost its wits. Every few moments, soft gasps and low whimpers that could not be held back would escape. He entangled their lips and tongues together as if he had gone crazy. The saliva that could not be swallowed in time followed the corner of their mouths as it slowly trickled down, leaving a clear path of wetness in its wake. His waist rutted in his embrace like a fish that was about to drown to death in the next moment, continuing to demand and accept.

With his top and bottom being sucked on by two pairs of wet hot mouths at the same time, even if Yi Mo was unperturbed, he still developed a hallucination that he had stepped into a marsh, like he was treading on cotton, involuntarily absorbed as he fell in, unable to break away.

Finally, he could not hold it in. Yi Mo shifted his lips away, his face revealed some sliver of his mood while he ruthlessly said, “So uninhibited like this, do you like being fucked by me this much?” As soon as the words left his lips, the uncontrollable angry sentiment contained in them surprised even Yi Mo when he heard. He had calmly cultivated for a thousand years, and had also entered the mortal world to travel for hundreds of years, since when did he develop this kind of emotion that he could not control? A thread of brutality flashed across his eyes, Yi Mo inclined his head to look at that face that was not unfamiliar but also not very imprinted in his mind. Thankfully, Shen Qingxuan was too lost in pleasure at this moment and did not sense anything. He even moaned “wu wu” like he agreed with his previous question.

Like he was saying, Yes, I do.

His face recovered its unknowing and unfeeling aloof expression again. Yi Mo rocked his hips quickly, driving in multiple times, his hand also cooperating to control Shen Qingxuan’s thing, which had become swollen red but could not come no matter what, in his palm. He skillfully moved and then heard Shen Qingxuan moan lengthily, almost carrying a crying inflection. His whole body suffused with a blush, trembling like a leaf swaying in the wind. Even his back was arched up, relying only on the strength of his hips to spring into an arched bow. He came in his hand. At the same time, he opened his eyes.

Their gazes collided. It was like a millennia old glacier and a volcano that had just turbulently erupted, the lava colliding and inciting an intense roar. And then, the iceberg was the same as before; the lava dispersed completely. Everything returned to its original state.

Yi Mo withdrew his member and pulled away.

The bedside candle flame reflected that pair of deep black and ice cold eyes, without desire, without feeling. He said a farewell, disappearing like wispy smoke from Shen Qingxuan’s bedroom.

Shen Qingxuan lay by himself for a long time and then pulled over a messy quilt from the side to cover up. He thought to himself, Next time it would be better to do this thing in the dark. No need for such brightness. No need to see those eyes remain cold and bare from beginning to end so clearly.

As he thought about it, he started to laugh. Hahahaha, burst after burst of laughter. Although his mouth was open, there was no sound.

It was as if the whole world had lost its voice.

~~~~~

sorry it's...late oTL posting Sunday nights now! Trying my best but irl has got me...also this chapter is raw dogged (unedited) oops but hopefully i'll make the deadline !

also thanks @arizona-trash-bag ! i highly recommend the og raws! it’s so much better and faster 😭 !! learning to read chinese thru bl is the way to go!!!!!

#a snake encounter #yu she #su hen #danmei #tl #eggytranslations

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Safe in the Dark

Just the tiniest of drabbles because the image was in my mind.

CW: Trauma response, references to institutional violence, scarring, guilt/self-loathing thoughts, not much here to warn for but if you see something that needs tagged that I didn’t mention let me know

Tagging Chris’s crew: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @stxckfxck , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly , @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions and @oofowouchies and @orphceus for Antoni (it wouldn’t let me tag your other blog but you requested to be added!)

Takes place simultaneously to the Safehouse Raid, so you’ll want to read the first piece of that series to have context for this

The darkness around them is total, with a soft weight like velvet against Antoni’s skin, pressing from all sides, as he and Leila make their way with bare feet moving soundless against the slightly damp stone.

Who made this tunnel, nobody seems to know, exactly. Nat told them it was here when she bought the house, used to be used to people in the 70′s to do the same thing that Antoni and Leila are doing now.

How many people have crept through this space, holding hands like he and Leila are, gripped tight with cold fingers and clammy palms, unwilling to let go? How many? A handful? Two dozen? A hundred?

The silence is so deep that their breathing seems to echo off the walls. Even adjusted to the dark he can’t see Leila, only feel her leading the way. She is the one who keeps them moving, because Antoni would go back, if she let go. So she never lets him go.

“Chris is still back there,” He whispers, and the sound is like a shout muffled, a cry swallowed by the stone.

There’s a dripping sound, somewhere, ahead or behind he can’t tell. Water condensing in the coolness and running down to the ground. He can feel the damp under his feet as he walks, slippery. Never run in the tunnel, Nat told them when they did their safety drills. Walk quickly, but don’t run.

“I know,” Leila replies, and her voice is flat and featureless. He can’t see her but he knows, anyway, what he could see if there was any light - her short black hair chopped close to her chin, the pale of her skin, the way her eyes would be narrowed and her jaw set in her determined stubbornness. “He didn’t move fast enough.”

Antoni is silent, as they move like specters under the houses of Nat’s neighbors, under streets, a faint rumble of cars above their heads. This tunnel was here before the city came out this far and the houses and lives lived above them came after it.

What was there, in the time when they made this, to run from? Antoni doesn’t know. Maybe he never knew, or maybe it’s part of what he lost when they took his mind and wiped it clean, started over.

“They will hurt him,” Antoni tries again, and her hand only tightens its grip.

“I know,” She says again.

“He must be so frightened, Leila-”

“Antoni.” Her voice is sharp. It cuts through the velvet dark like the flash of light off a knife. “Stop it.”

Antoni feels his composure cracking, the sudden flare of a thousand burns under his clothes. One more sin he can’t atone for, one more betrayal he cannot fix, one more one more one more one more-

“I can’t just leave him there-”

Leila’s hand rips from his and just as suddenly her palms are pressed to either side of his face, pulling his head down close to hers, until their foreheads are touching. He still can’t see her, nothing but the faintest glimmer of her eyes. He wonders if they are as full of tears as his.

“If they take him, there’s nothing we can do,” Leila says, voice fierce and hoarse, thick with rage and grief. “If you were there, they’d take you, too, send you back, we’d lose you. Sometimes-...” She was quiet, and he could hear her breathing, harsh exhales, deep inhales. “Sometimes you lose people, Ant. That’s just how it is.”

“I-I... I can’t accept that. Not for him-... he’s so young, he needs us so much, and what he’ll... what he’ll be sent back to, Leila, you haven’t seen his nightmares-”

“I have nightmares, too! So do you! So do all of us!”

“Not... not like this, not like his, you do not hear what he says in his sleep-”

“Then fucking go back if you want to! Go on! Get caught and go back to your owner but I am never going back to mine! I don’t care who I lose, I don’t care who might have to get left!” Leila loses her careful control, her voice rises to a wail, bouncing back at them off the stone, and Antoni flinches away from the sudden volume.

“Leila-”

“We have to get to the bus stop. We have to. Nine will be waiting for us, Nat said, she promised. And Chris is a good hider, maybe he’ll... maybe he’ll be okay. Jake is there, right? Jake would-... would do anything for him.”

“If they take him back, Jake would not go with him, Leila, but if I were there I could... I could go, and we could be together until we were r-refurbished- I could help him know he would not be alone when they erase him-”

Her hand presses to his mouth, forces him to stop speaking, as she gasps in a breath. “Don’t ever say that, Ant, don’t you dare! He won’t get wiped!”

“You know they’ll wipe him, Leila! If they take us back, we get erased again!”

“It’s-... it’s a numbers game,” Leila whispers, repeating something they’ve all heard Nat saying before, murmuring to herself, a reminder every time there’s some news story about someone so happy to reclaim a stray pet, another safe place or shelter lost... “It’s a numbers game. One going back is better than two Maximize the good, minimize the bad. Now come the fuck on.”

She drops her hand and grabs him by the arm, dragging him forward with her down the tunnel, walking now with a determined speed and no attempt to stay silent.

“L-Leila-”

“Listen to me.” She doesn’t stop walking and her nails dig into his arm through his shirt, unknowingly pressing sharp edges into burn scars, lighting them up all over again. “I am going to get you to Nine. We are going to keep walking, here where we’re safe, and if Chris gets put back then I’m sorry, but I can’t help him now, I can only help you.”

“He’ll be so scared-”

“So are we! We’re scared, too!” She jerks his arm and Antoni stumbles forwards. There’s a hint of a slightly lighter enveloping black, maybe even a gray - they might be getting closer to the end of the tunnel, to where they can come up in a small city maintenance shed using a loose few boards in the floor and find the bus stop where Nine should already be idling in his car, waiting and waiting for them, hoping they moved faster than the men and women who pursue them.

“Without us-”

“Jake will hide him,” Leila says firmly. “He knows all the dark places, and Chris knows as well as any of us that he’s only safe in the dark.”

“What?”

She sighs. “Antoni, I don’t think they ever meant to, but... they taught us that the dark is the safest place for us. It's in the light that we die. It’s in the light they can take us and wipe us clean and rebuild. If Jake can get Chris into a dark place, he’ll know not to leave it.”

“And if he can’t? If he cannot get him to the dark places to hide?”

Another pause. It draws and draws and draws and now Antoni can definitely begin to see the outline of Leila ahead of him, the slightest hint of light at the end of the tunnel awaiting them. The air smells cleaner, fresher now. They’re getting closer.

He hasn’t heard anyone behind them. They haven’t found the secret door, or they don’t know what it is, or maybe... or maybe they’re just even quieter than the two rescues and someone will reach out and grab him at any moment, and he’ll hear a low soft voice with an English accent whisper in his ear, hello, love, aren’t you happy to see me?

“Then Chris goes back to the light,” Leila says, and her voice is hard. Uncaring, even as Antoni can hear the lie. “And we don’t. He’s gone and we’re not and that’s all there is to it.”

Nine is waiting for them in a nondescript beige-gray-nothing-color four-door at the bus stop, just like Nat promised. Leila slides into the front seat and Antoni collapses across the back, his chest a twisting mass of guilt that curls inside him, heavy as stone, weighing him down as he curls up on his side.

“I thought there would be three of you,” Nine says, glancing over his shoulder in the direction they’d come from. “Yoder said to expect three.”

“Only two,” Leila answers, crossing her arms across her chest and sitting back against the seat. “The other one didn’t make it.”

The other one.

“Already, we stop using his name?” Antoni closes his eyes against the rush of guilt and tears.

Chris is going to be gone, again, all the identity he’d built stolen, erased back to factory standards. And it will be Antoni who left him to the death that comes with going back to the white walls, white lights, white floor.

Nine clears his throat. “Are you... are you sure I shouldn’t wait a few more minutes, just in case-”

“Don’t wait.” Leila doesn’t look back at Antoni, and she doesn’t look back the way they came. Leila never looks back at all. “The third one isn’t coming. Just drive. Jake will do what he can.”

Antoni has never felt so small, so mean, so... worthless. “I-I could have-”

“No, you couldn’t. You’d just get thrown back in there, too. Better two saved than two refurbished.”

“I’m... I’m sorry,” Nine says softly as he pulls away. “I know what it means to lose someone.”

Do you, Antoni wonders. Do you even have fucking clue?

If Chris did make it into the tunnel, he’d only come out to nothing and no one waiting to help him, because... because Antoni is a coward.

Because Antoni ran and didn’t stay.

Because he saved himself and left someone else to suffer.

Again.

“I will go back tomorrow,” He whispers. “I am going. You cannot stop me.”

“He’ll be gone.” Leila keeps her eyes on the road ahead, but he can see the set of her jaw, the curve of it. Stubbornness, determination. Strength Antoni could never hope to possess. “You know he won’t be there. They’ll take him. You can go back if you want, but Chris won’t be there.”

“I do not care. I will go back for him, even-... even if there is no him to find.”

She snorts. “Have it your way.”

Then, a pause, and she says, a little more softly. “I’m... I’m sorry, Antoni. I know I’m... I know-... I could be softer, but-”

“Not everyone is made for soft,” Antoni murmurs, and though he can’t see her answering hint of a smile, he can feel it.

“If I think about it I’ll lose my fucking mind,” She says, softly. “I have to focus on who I can save, and not who I can’t. You know?”

He can understand. Even if he still feels like as much the monster as any of the ones who had been knocking the door off the hinges when he and Leila stopped waiting and ran.

Silence, other than the low hum of the radio, public news station reporting a story about some kind of law passed about taxes.

After the awkward, tense silence has dragged on and on and on, Nine clears his throat again.

“Hey, uh... what’s your name?”

“Antoni.” Coward. Piece of shit. Ashtray. Whatever you want it to be.

“Great. Yeah, okay. Uh... look. I’ll drive you back here tomorrow. You can take the tunnel back in to check and see if the, uh, the third one is in the house still. Okay?”

Antoni swallows and nods, curling into himself. His skin is on fire, he can feel every burn all at once, lit up like tiny suns digging deeper and deeper beneath the layers, searching for nerves and bone and muscle and vein to damage and destroy.

“"It’s not a problem.”

“But-”

“It’s not a problem,” Nine repeats, making a left, calming checking his mirrors, driving with absolute caution borne from a need to never ever have his fake ID checked. “You can go back and see if your guy is still there, yeah? Did you have to leave, like... your partner, your-.. your, uh... your bonded? Or-”

“He is not my bonded,” Antoni says, softly. “I will go back for him anyway.”

Please, if there is anything but hell left here on earth, let him still be Chris.

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twrp-act-your-age · 4 years

Text

The Big Scary What-If

Was going through old files and whoops! I found a whole bonus scene I wrote and never posted. So... here ya go!

Spoilers under the cut for the near-end of the story!

This scene takes place around the vicinity of pages 114-116. For those who don’t remember (it’s been a while!), Deimos has been defeated, the gang is back together, and they’re taking a few days to fix the Time Crystal.

Havve’s optics blinked, taking in the small form of Meouch sitting curled up on the couch. It was midnight--rather, it would have been midnight if they had been on Earth--and his three boys should’ve all been in bed. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” he said, keeping his volume down for the sake of the others.

“I know,” Meouch said, seemingly having fully expected that from Havve. “I can’t stop thinking, though.”

Havve could have sighed and sent him off to bed anyway--if Meouch could think out here, in front of the muted TV playing intergalactic infomercials, then he could think in his room--but he didn’t. He sat down next to Meouch and got comfortable, leaning back and lacing his fingers together over his stomach. “What’re you thinking about?”

“It’s nothing,” Meouch said, shrugging one shoulder. “I mean, it’s… Y’know.”

“Clearly it’s not nothing,” Havve retorted, “if it’s keeping you up half the night.”

“It’s…” Meouch sighed. He crossed his arms over his chest and burrowed his hands inside the sleeves of his t-shirt. He looked at the TV, defeated. “It’s stupid.”

“I bet it’s not,” Havve said. Meouch didn’t look at him, eyes vacantly stuck on the infomercial in front of him. Havve sighed then, a tinny, half-real, half-robotic sound. “You can talk to me, you know. I won’t judge. I mean… you’re a kid for crying out loud. Of course you’re worried about stuff you wouldn’t be normally.” Havve’s optics drifted to the TV for a moment (something about air fryers. He couldn’t believe they were still hawking that crap this far in the future), and then turned back to Meouch. “If something’s got you concerned, and you care about it, then that means it’s important. I won’t think it’s stupid. Okay?”

Meouch pursed his lips into a line. He blinked, his eyes reflecting the screen in front of them, and Havve realized he was trying to push back tears. “If we don’t fix this,” Meouch croaked, his voice rough and barely above a whisper, “if we have to grow up all over again from scratch… I did the math, Havve. I have the shortest lifespan here. I’m… I’m not gonna live to see Phobos and Sung get back to normal.”

The dam broke. It was quiet, Meouch still trying to hold himself together, but his eyes were gushing tears and his lips were trembling with cries trying to pry their way out. Havve sat up straighter and scooped him up, pulling Meouch into his chest and holding a hand on the back of his small head. Meouch choked out a high-pitched sob, muffled by Havve’s shirt. “Oh, bud. It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said, rubbing his thumb up and down on Meouch’s back. Havve couldn’t cry, as he didn’t have the eyes or the tear ducts necessary, but he could still feel his chest grow tight and his breath hitch in his half-metal throat. “It won’t come to that, I promise. We’ll fix this, Meouch. It’s okay.”

“I know. It’s like, so many what-ifs all piled on top of one another,” Meouch squeaked once he gained a little bit of his composure back. He sniffled, trying and failing to not get Havve’s shirt all wet. “Of course we’re gonna fix it. But I can’t get it out of my head, man. For fuck’s sake, Phobos is, what, twelve hundred years old? That's twice as old as I’ll ever be. I don’t wanna grow up and have him still be a little kid. I can’t, Havve, I can’t…”

“I know. God, if there’s anyone who understands that feeling, it’s me,” Havve said. “I honestly don’t mind taking care of you guys like this, but… I need you back, too. I can’t… rust away into nothing before Sung even hits puberty. I need you guys back.”

“Mm.” Meouch crawled further into Havve’s arms, burying his head in his hoodie and wrapping his arms tight around Havve’s chest. “I know they're gonna outlive me,” he muttered, barely audible. “I’ve always known that. S’just how shit goes. But I… They’re my… All of you are my best friends, and if we can’t tour together or do music together or just… hang out together without having to worry about babysitting… I can’t…”

Havve hummed in agreement, a strange mix of breath and white noise, making his chest vibrate. Meouch leaned into it, and Havve cradled him there. He needed this hug so bad that he was practically trying to crawl into Havve’s chest plate, and if Havve could have, he would’ve let him.

“I know you’ve prob’ly already been thinking about this a lot,” Meouch mumbled, his voice still wet and thick. “About what happens if the Time Crystal doesn’t poof us back to normal. This is old news for you. ‘M sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Havve shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry about. There’s been so much going on… The whole thing with Phobos and Deimos… This is something we should’ve talked about days ago. The big shitty ‘what-if’ hanging over everyone’s heads. I hate it, you hate it, and no doubt Sung and Phobos hate it too. It’s hard to think about. Phobos is… tiny.” Havve ran his fingers gently through the fur on Meouch’s head, partly to soothe Meouch and partly to steady himself, and he spoke quietly, the bass of his speaker rumbling low in the top of his chest. “Seeing him get that small was… terrifying. I can’t imagine him staying that young for a hundred years. I don’t want to think about what that would do to him, what that would do to you or me… And Sung…”

“I don’t know how old he is,” Meouch whispered, “but he’s old old, isn’t he?”

“I can’t say.”

Meouch gripped the fabric of Havve’s shirt tighter, his small fingers digging into the warm metal of Havve’s stomach. “I know you know.”

Havve sighed. “I can’t say because that’s Sung’s secret to tell, not mine. But… yes, he’s old old. If he has to grow up again ‘from scratch’ as you called it… We’d all be long gone before he reached adulthood again.”

“God,” Meouch whimpered.

They sat there in the quiet for a good long while, letting it all sit. It was dark, save for the blue-light glow of the TV and the bright red of Havve’s optics, quiet save for the TV humming and Havve’s inner mechanisms humming and Meouch’s shaky, wet breaths. Havve could faintly feel himself starting to get a headache, something he rarely experienced. He could feel the pressure building up behind where his eyes used to be, in the little that remained of his sinuses, and he knew he would have shed a tear by then if he could have. Part of him wished that he could. The other part, the part that was holding a small, crying child in his arms, was relieved that he couldn’t. He needed to be strong, and sure, and confident that things were going to turn out okay. He needed to do that for Meouch, even if he was barely able to do it for himself right now.

"It’ll be okay,” Havve said, his voice louder and more confident coming from his speakers than it could’ve possibly been if it had come from his aching lungs. “We’ll get you guys back to normal. Hell, even Phobos’s little crystal shard is working on him already. You’ll all be back to normal in no time,” he said. “And no matter what happens, we have each other. I’ll always be there for you guys. And I know you’ll be there for me, too.”

“Yeah,” Meouch said, and then trailed off. His mouth hung open like he wanted to say something more, but then he closed it and swallowed. It took him a moment to find his voice again, and when he spoke, he lifted his face away from Havve’s chest and looked up at him. “You can say if you’re hurting, too. Your breathing’s all shallow, Havve, I can feel it.”

“Meouch… I’m okay, really,” Havve said. He wiped under one of Meouch’s eyes with a finger, brushing a fresh tear away from the streaks of already-wet fur.

“You just said that I’m here for you, too,” Meouch huffed. “Don’t lie to me. I’m not just a kid, man. I’m your friend, too.”

“I know you are,” Havve said. He felt something catch in his throat, something that maybe could have been a sob if he still had vocal chords to make the sound with. Running on long-forgotten instinct, his hand reached up under his mask and rubbed at one of his optics, as if that would relieve the pressure that was still building. “Seeing you cry like that, it just… I hate to see that. Makes me want to cry, too, even though I can’t.”

And then Meouch did what only a child would do: he pulled Havve’s mask off of his face, gently and with both hands, and then wiped the imaginary tears under his eyes with his thumb. “It’s okay, Havve,” he said, and Havve could’ve sworn he felt something break in the 808 drum machine where his heart used to be. The pressure built up harder, and he blinked uselessly to try and fight it off. “It’s okay.”

“Y’know,” Havve said, his robotic voice calm and steady even as his breathing was shaky and quick and his shoulders quaked, “I can only think of one other time when I wished I wasn’t a damn robot. You know what that was?”

“What?”

“Airport security,” he said, and then laughed a wet, shaky, electronically-tinged laugh. Meouch laughed too, the sad smile fighting its way onto his face. “Honestly, I like the way I am. Nine times out of ten, I wouldn’t want to be any other way. And I used to think x-rays and metal detectors and the post-9/11 TSA were just the banes of my existence. And they still are. But it’s shit like this. Shit where my body wasn’t built to handle having too many emotions inside of it. And god, since you three turned into kids?” He laughed again. “I swear, it’s like my Grinch heart grew three sizes and I have no place to put it all.”

Meouch smiled. “I heard being a dad’ll do that to you,” he said, and then hugged Havve even tighter, resting his head in the crook of Havve’s neck. “When Sung’s bigger, you should ask him to fix that for you. To make more room for your heart.”

“That is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Havve said, making Meouch burst out laughing. “No, I’m serious. That was such a triple-whammy. Each sentence was a one-hit KO. Why can’t you be this cute all the time?”

“Hmm, can’t be this cute when you’re that sexy,” Meouch hummed, and it was Havve’s turn to laugh. It relieved a little bit of the pressure, and he almost felt like he could take a deep breath again. “Once I get my mane back, it’s over for you fuckers. Cute adorable tiny Meouch will be no more, and sexy beast Meouch will reign supreme once again.”

Havve rested his head on Meouch’s shoulder, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem. I’m the one who got you all upset in the first place, so…”

“I think I was upset anyway. It was just hiding.”

“Oh,” Meouch said gently. “Then… You’re welcome. Wait, no, I should be thanking you! I was freaking out and now I’m not! How’d you do that?”

Havve chuckled, and they both knew he would’ve smiled if he could. “Secret dad powers,” he said simply. Meouch looked up at him and beamed. “Speaking of which, my dad powers are telling me that it’s way past your bedtime.”

“Aww, come on, no it’s not!” Meouch whined. “We were just getting somewhere! C’mon Havve, I’m not even tired.”

“You sure? Because I’m spe-ent,” Havve chimed. He stood up, bringing Meouch with him, and started carrying him back towards the bunks. “I need to recharge, and you need to get some sleep.”

“Fine,” Meouch said. His head was resting on Havve’s shoulder, and he was already quieting down. “I guess.”

Havve padded across the ship to Meouch’s room, and the door opened automatically as they got close. It was dark inside. Only Havve’s glowing red optics illuminated the space, showing off the piles of flannel shirts on the floor and the mess of charging cords by his bed. “You need to clean in here,” Havve said, and Meouch only replied with a hum and a small nod. He had gone from energetic to almost-asleep in just a couple of minutes. Seemed like the crying had finally caught up to him. Havve laid him down in bed, pulling his covers up to his chin. Meouch rolled over onto his side, burying his face in his pillow, and was out before he could even say “goodnight.”

Havve patted him on his head and tousled the small fluff of brown that was his mane. “Sweet dreams, bud,” he said softly, his volume just a notch above muted. “Everything’ll be fine. I promise.” He adjusted the blankets once more, stood up, and left Meouch’s room as quietly as he could. “I promise.”

#twrp #twrpband #act your age #havve #meouch #fanfic #writing

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swiss-cheeze · 4 years

Text

(The Candyman Can) Rainbow Connection || Spencer Reid

Request: YES/NO // a part 2 was requested but I was going to do a part 2 anyway so, yeah. (@l0ve-0f-my-life)

Gender: none, they/them // I don’t believe there is any description, I tried to keep it nonchalant, the Sunflower song may be slightly suggestive because it’s sung by a female and have the aspects of femininity but overall is a non-gender affirming song.

Warnings: uhhh, slow burn, awkwardness? I honestly don’t know SEASON 8 SPOILERS, very long; seven pages on google doc lmao

Description: ten months after Maeves death you’re still singing for Spencer to help him cope, what happens when Garcia’s Dia De Muertos party brings to light your feelings?

Part 1: https://snitchthewitch.tumblr.com/post/621248749527760896/the-candyman-can-spencer-reid

Songs used:

It’s My Life - Bon Jovi

Hey There Delilah - Plain White T’s

Sunflower - Sierra Burgess

Rainbow Connection - The Muppets

———

Ten months.

It had been ten months since Maeve had left, ten months since a part of Spencer felt broken, crumpled and gone.

Ten months since you entered his life in a different way then he would ever think.

After your singing sessions things started to look better, brighter, lighter and happier.

Currently yourself and Spencer were jamming out in his apartment to It's My Life.

“It's my life! And it's now or never!” you screamed and jumped on the couch, Spencer followed you with a laugh and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“'Cause I ain't gonna live forever, I just want to live while I'm alive” Spencer sang, you grinned as you hoped down from the couch, grabbed his hands and started dancing.

“My heart is like an open highway, like Frankie said, ‘i did it my way’!” you grinned as Spencer spun you around and stepped onto the coffee table.

“I just want to live while I'm alive,” Spencer sang as you hopped up and onto the table next to the Doctor.

“ITS, MY, LIFE!” you exclaimed together and posed on the table as if there was a crowd gathered and you had just danced your hearts out; which you did. Your breathing was heavy as you let out a large laugh and jogged over to the CD player to turn it down as the next song came on from your playlist, going from a room shattering volume to a whisper.

“Drink?” Spencer asked with heavy breaths as he pointed to the kitchen, you nodded as you held your back and sat on the couch, Spencer came back a moment later with two glasses of water and handed one to you as you sat in the blissful aftermath of a singing and dance off.

“Are you going to Garcias Day of the Dead party?” you asked after a moment, it wasn't very risky to ask but it was still touchy as you both knew the background to the question. Spencer nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I am, I'm meant to be helping her with groceries sometime, she said she’d message me when she was ready” Spencer smiled as he placed the empty cup on the table and laid back against the couch cushions, “who are you bringing?” Spencer hesitantly asked as you grinned.

“I can't tell you that Spence, it's cheating” you shook your head before putting your cup down on the table and opening your phone to look at the time; you were meant to be home 10 minutes ago, “shit, sorry Spence i gotta head,” you said as you quickly gathered your belongings.

“Do you have to leave?” Spencer asked, he sounded so sad that you needed to leave, you bit your lip as you opened the door.

“I’m sorry Spence, i do, i've um…” should you tell him? “I've got a date,” you said with a tight lipped smile. Spencer hoped his face didn't convey the emotions he felt and hoped you didn't notice his change in demeanor.

“Oh, yeah of course,” Spencer said tightly, “you head ill...ill clean up here,”

“Thanks Spence, i'll see you at work!” you said with a grin and waved the Doctor a goodbye. The retreating of your footsteps seemed to echo in the surrounding walls of Spencer's apartment and his mind, your smile was flashing in his and out of his head a thousand times over in bright flashes as the room suddenly felt rather lonely and cold without your presence in it anymore. Spencer looked around the room as he felt his shoulders sag, emotions came back to him as well as memories of Maeve, Tobias, Nathan and multiple other people who impacted his life in some way, in a way of his work and in a way that's personal.

Alex.

Of course!

Spencer scrambled for his phone and clicked on Blake's personal cell number. It rang three times before the woman's voice floated through.

“Ried? Is everything okay?” the worry in Blake's voice floated through the speakers as Spencer took a breath.

“I…” Spencer sighed softly and sniffled, god was he going to cry again? “I think im in love...again”

“Oh Spence,”

---

You smiled tightly as your date talked about...what was he talking about again?

“And that's how I found out my family was a part of the mafia group in the nineteen hundreds!” the date exclaimed, oh god had you forgotten his name already?

“Thats,” you gave a fake laugh as real as you could, “that's amazing Matt!” you said with a clap of your hands.

“My name’s Michael…” your date reminded you, you sighed and put your head in your hands with a groan.

“I'm sorry-”

“No it's...I can tell your head is somewhere else,” your date said with a smile, “did you want to talk about it?” he asked, you bit your lip before responding.

“One of my coworkers…” should you be telling a story that isn't yours to tell? “One of my coworkers lost someone close to them ten months ago,” you started the story, you can't stop now, “and to be a good friend I started to sing for him!” you said happily, using your hands to talk, “i started singing for him because it made me happy when i was a child and i thought it would cheer him up as well, in the end it did and it helped him get better and obviously he is better but...that was ten months ago,” you sighed, “Micheal it was ten months ago that he lost what could possibly be his only love and here i am...in love with him,”

“Oh doll,” Micheal said softly as he put his hand on top of yours, “what do you mean his only love?” the man asked, “just so i can get a better understanding and idea of the situation,” he smiled politely.

“Hes...he has an eidetic memory, can read 20,000 words a minute, he has 3 PhDs and 3 Bachelors, he doesn't get along well with women in the romance scene a lot of the time but he's just...he's just so smart and he's so lovely and kind and works well with everyone,” you took a breath as you wiped a tear from your eye you didn't realise had leaked, “he puts himself on the line all the time; he’s been shot in the knee, shot in the shoulder, he got kidnapped and drugged, poisoned with a worse strain of Anthrax then actual anthrax, he's such a good hostage speaker, he delves into every case with everything he has as if its his last which it could possibly be, he helped a young boy, Nathan Harris, when he believed he was going to become a serial killer an-”

“Woah woah woah baby slow down,” Micheal said as he looked to you, “you’re getting so worked up over this boy, i mean, he's just a boy,” Micheal said with a grin, “you sing for him don't you?”

“Yeah I do,” you absentmindedly smiled, “it's amazing, just today we sung It’s My Life before I came here,” you said with a large grin, the memory still fresh.

“Okay so, how about, instead, you lean it to more romantic songs? Slowly give him hints and open up to him more?” Micheal questioned, you never actually thought of that but as you mulled it over it sounded a lot better than any other plan you would have had brewed anway. You nodded.

“Thats...thats really good Micheal,” you said with a grin, “thank you,”

“It’s alright; if i can't be the one then i'll help you with him,” Micheal said with a joking grin. You ended the night with the waitress coming over to take your plates as you asked for the bill, split it, giving a lovely tip and Micheal driving you home. He planted a kiss on your cheek before handing you his number on a napkin, “for whenever and whatever you want or need,” he had said, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and a thank you before retreating into your house and mulling over the next few songs to sing for Spencer whenever he wanted.

---

A few days passed after your date and Spencers emotional outburst to Blake (which she kept to herself and Spencer of course), you had been given a case and hadn't had time to sing to Spencer; you could tell this was taking a little toll on the poor doctor as he became distracted easily as well as the far off gaze he had on his face a lot of the time now, however, the plane had just landed back in DC.

“Spence!” you called for the doctor, he turned for a moment and slowed his walking for you to catch up, “did you want me to call tonight?” you asked with a grin.

“Yes please (Y/n),” the doctor said, he seemed sad but also desperate.

“Are you alright?” you questioned as you stopped the doctor with your hand on his arm, “i'm here for you,”

“I’ll be alright after tonight (Y/n), it's okay,” and without another word Spencer left you, spoke to Hotch for a second and then headed out the door.

“Are you two okay?” Blake asked as she came up next to you.

“I think so, I think it’s just because we haven't had a lot of time recently for our normal sessions,” you said with a tight smile.

“He misses you (Y/n),” Blake said, “a lot more than you know,” the two of you dropped the subject pretty quickly after that as you walked to the parking lots and headed home, the road seemed to go in a blur as you drove, forming colours and paint strokes against the harsh greys of the DC city buildings.

---

Another few days passed and your singing sessions went back to normal, except this time you added more romantic songs, adding a more soft tone or even adding your uke like one of the first times you sang for Spencer, and right now you were finishing off Hey There Delilah.

“Hey there, Spencer,” you had changed the lyrics for the last ‘hey there’, you heard Spencer give off a little breathy laugh, “You be good, and don't you miss me, two more years and you'll be done with school,” you couldn't help but laugh slightly at the school part seeing as Spencer had...well you know what he’s got, “And I'll be makin' history like I do. You know it's all because of you…” you trailed the end of your sentence off slightly, “We can do whatever we want to…” you sighed softly, “hey there, Spencer, here’s to you,” you trailed off again as you felt tears well in your eyes as you spoke the last words instead of singing them, “This one's for you” and with that the song ended and you smiled into the phone, Spencer clapped loudly into the phone’s speaker.

“That was beautiful (Y/n)!” the doctor exclaimed with a smile, “I haven't heard that song before,” you laughed, of course he hadn't heard the song before.

“It's a classic but not the type of classic you know of,” you said with a smile as you heard Spencer laugh along with you too, “I’m sorry Spence but i have to get to bed,” you sounded so sad.

“Right, of course,” Spencer said as he finally glanced at the clock, god it was past 12 already? You'd been on a call together since 10, “goodnight (Y/n), i'll see you at Garcias tomorrow?” Spencer asked, shit. You'd forgotten about tomorrow completely.

“Y-yeah of course! I'll be there don't worry,” you smiled into the phone, “goodnight Spence” and with that you hung up the phone and got ready for bed. Spencer did the same in his apartment.

---

You smiled sweetly at Spencer as he placed Maeve's photo on the altar as everyone gave him a sympathetic look and then another person's photo.

“This is uh, Nikola Tesla,” he said, you couldn't help but smile, “i just hope he's still having fun inventing things wherever he is” Spencer said with the little smile and laugh he does every now and then as he stepped back from the alter; allowing you to place your photo. You gulped as you fiddled with the photographic paper.

“This uh,” you started, nobody actually knew who this was, you sniffled as Garcia held you hand and you smiled to her as thanks for the reassurance, you cleared your throat, “this is Gene Wilder,” you grinned as Spencer chuckled softly, of course it was him, “i don't uh, i don't really have any family that i'm close to that has passed but, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory has always been my childhood, it was always close to my heart and when the movie came out i fell in love with it even more and the more i watched it the more i felt Gene Wilder become apart of me, my family and my life.” you took a breath as you placed the photo onto the altar, it was of his iconic Willy Wonka pose, “of course he has become a meme icon,” you laughed as everyone did too, “but i know for a fact he looks at everyone from wherever he is and he looks at them with such passion and love and admiration for whatever they're doing and i know he fills me with hope and confidence whenever i need it” you smiled as you finished and stepped back and the line continued.

You all gave your thanks, gave a blessing or a prayer depending on who it was, sent your respects and then went your way with drinks and conversations and music. Spencer smiled as he came up to you when Hotch walked away, your conversation about Henry becoming dwindled as the food looked more appetizing to Hotch.

“Hey,” Spencer said with a little wave as he held a cup of...cordial?

“Are you really drinking cordial Spencer?” you asked with a laugh as Spencer nodded.

“Believe it or not cordial is a lot healthier than wine,” Spencer spoke with a laugh as he stated the obvious, you smiled as well but it was tight, “are you okay?” you nodded.

“Yeah i'll be alright,” you said quietly, where was this sad emotion suddenly coming from?

“Considering the circumstances it's okay to be sad (Y/n)” Spencer commented as he saw your saddened expression but before he could say anything else you put on a fake smile.

“Spence i promise, im okay” you said with fake confidence, “promise” you held out your hand for the doctor and took his warm palm in his, you could tell Spencer didn't believe you but nodded anyway, but your whole demeanor changed as soon as the song did and you grinned, “dance with me Spencer?” you asked as you set down your wine and dragged the poor doctor to the ‘dance floor’.

“N-no i'm not really- i haven't ever-” Spencer stuttered but with your glowing smile and laugh he found himself not finding the words to excuse himself before nodding and placing his drink down on the nearest surface. You brought the doctor close to your body and rested your head in his neck as his arms wrapped around your waist hesitantly and yours wrapped around his neck, you danced in a slow circle as the rest of the team gave suggestive glances to each other.

“Rose girls in glass vases, perfect bodies, perfect faces, they all belong in magazines” your voice floated through the air softly and Spencers voice hitched, “Those girls the boys are chasing, winning all the games they're playing, they're always in a different league” you continued to sing and sway with Spencer, his grip tightened on you as he buried his face into your hair as Hotch pulled Alex in for a dance, Rossi with J.J. and Derek and Garcia all walked to the dance floor; slow dancing and holding one another softly as your voice continued, “Stretching toward the sky like I don't care, wishing you could see me standing there” god was that directed to Spencer? It was, wasn't it? Spencer bit his lip at the thought as he continued swaying as he looked up for a second and saw everyone else slow dancing, a smile gracing his lips as your voice flowed through the air again, “But I'm a sunflower, a little funny, If I were a rose, maybe you'd want me” your voice wavered as you buried your face into Spencers neck, “If I could, I'd change overnight, I'd turn into something you'd like but i'm a,” your voice came out a little stronger now as you looked up and saw your co-workers now switching dance partners; Rossi with Hotch (which made you laugh a little), J.J. and Derek, and Alex with Garcia, “sunflower, a little funny, if I were a rose, maybe you'd pick me” your voice sighed at the end as you broke away from Spencers neck to look at the beautiful man in front of you, wording the lyrics to him, “But I know you don't have a clue, this sunflower's waiting for you,” both of you leant in as your eyes darted to Spencers mouth, his eyes doing the same to yours as he licked his lips without realisation, “Waiting for you” with your mouths inches apart and your eyelids slowly closing, you could feel Spencers breath fanning over your lips...almost...almost…

“(Y/n) that's a beautiful voice you have!” Alex exclaimed, the song continued in the background as yourself and Spencer jumped away from each other, smiling awkwardly as you wiped your sweaty palms on your hips and thighs. Your teammates all broke away from each other; Blake must have been the only one to see and realise what was going to happen, you looked to Alex with a mix of emotions including anger and appreciation; anger because she stopped you and Spencer from kissing, appreciation because she stopped you and Spencer kissing in front of the others.

“Thanks…” you smiled as you scratched the back of your head with an awkward smile, “well i gotta start heading!” you exclaimed suddenly, the crushing feeling in your chest getting too much for you to stay.

“Ohhh what what what?” Garcia asked as she came forward, “oh come on i can get the blow up mattress, we can all sleep here, take tomorrow off; Hotch we can take tomorrow off can't we?” Garcia suddenly exclaimed, you all smiled as did Hotch but he didn't say a word; Garcia was tipsy, if not already drunk.

“It’s okay Penelopie really,” you said with a smile as you walked to the girl and hugged her close, “i'll see you guys tomorrow though,” you smiled as you hugged everyone, of course Spencer being the last.

“I’ll drive you home,” Spencer said quickly as he picked up your coat as well as his, you stuttered as Spencer opened Garcia's door but decided against it; instead blushing and thanking Spencer as the two of you walked out of the apartment building and to Spencers old timey wimey car.

“Think those two will realise?” Derek said off-handedly with a knowing grin.

“They’re profilers, they'll figure it out,” Rossi said with a grin.

-------

Yourself and Spencer had already discussed you would sleepover at his house in case you got drunk or tipsy off of wine, that and the fact you used public transport to get to Garcias rather than a car and Spencer didn't want you to go onto the tubes at this time at night.

“No, Spence, I already told you I'm not taking your bed!” you exclaimed with a laugh as you got a drink from Spencer's kitchen.

“(Y/n) please, my couch is complete rubbish and i know!” Spencer exclaimed from his bedroom where he was getting dressed in. You scoffed jokingly.

“Oh yeah Spencer, you've slept on your couch you germaphobe” you said with a smile as you walked to Spencer's bedroom.

“I did! When…” as you entered the bedroom the air turned cold as Spencers smile fell, you looked at him from across the room in all of his shirtless-and-low-hanging-pyjama-pants glory, he cleared his throat, “when Maeve…” he choked as his sentence drained off the way it does when Spencer is emotional and about to cry.

“Oh, Spence im...im sorry i didn't think,” you said softly, you stayed in the doorway unsure of what to do. Spencer cleared his throat as he threw his side of the covers back and started to get into the bed.

“Please?” Spencer questioned, you knew what he wanted as he bunched the sheets at his waist and played with his fingers while looking at the covers, you nodded. Whether Spencer saw you nod or not you weren't sure but you went through the same motions as you would when going to bed; brushed your teeth in Spencer's connected bathroom, tugged off your work clothes, put on your pyjamas as Spencer waited patiently in the bed, unmoving. Your feet padded on the floor as you brought back the covers on the other side of Spencer and sat on the bed next to him, the covers bunched up around your waist as you waited, waited for Spencer to lay down, hold your hand, something.

And then he did.

“Spencer i know-”

“Can you sing for me?” Spencer suddenly asked, his voice on the verge of breaking as he looked to you with teary eyes, you nodded quickly and began to smile.

“Yeah, yeah of course i can Spencer,” you said quickly, “did you want to get under the covers?” you asked softly, Spencer nodded and sniffled softly as the two of you maneuvered to lay down. You laid on your back as Spencer clutched onto you, his head rested on your chest as your arm wrapped around his back and to his shoulder, “what do we want tonight?” you asked in a soft voice into Spencer's hair.

“Anything, anything happy,” Spencer mumbled into your chest, you nodded and thought for a moment.

“Why are there so many, songs about rainbows, and what's on the other side” you started to sing, Spencer doesn't know the muppets very well but he has heard this song play in your headphone while on the jet home after a tough case once or twice, this was the second song you used to calm yourself down next to The Candy Man, “Rainbows are visions, they're only illusions, and rainbows have nothing to hide” your voice was soft and filtered through the air as Spencer closed his eyes, envisioning himself in a wonderful forest, just like Kermit the frog with you by his side, your uke in your arms, the cords coming through seamlessly, “So we've been told and some chose to believe it, but I know they're wrong wait and see” you squeezed Spencer softly as you started on the chorus, “Someday we'll find it, The Rainbow Connection” you tilted Spencers chin up from your chest and moved back from Spencer a little so he wasn't arched weirdly nor where you bent weirdly, “The lovers,” you pointed a finger into your own chest, “the dreamers,” you pointed a finger into Spencers chest as he smiled softly, his tears dripping into the creases of his smile, “and me” you cuddled back into Spencer as his arms tightly wrapped around you again.

“Who said that every wish,” Spencer's soft voice filtered in the air, you smiled and hummed the instrumentals, “Would be heard and answered, when wished on the morning star” you smiled and kissed Spencer's head again and joined in with singing.

“Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it, look what it’s done so far” you shrugged jokingly as if the ‘look what it's done so far’ was someone really saying it, a soft chuckle came from Spencer, “What's so amazing,” you shrugged again as you looked to Spencer, “that keeps us stargazing, what do we think we might see?” you brought your unwrapped arm up towards the ceiling and cupped it around as if you were cupping Spencers chin, “Someday we’ll find it,” you looked back down to Spencer as your arm came down as well, “The Rainbow Connection,” you cupped Spencers cheek as you moved forward, Spencer doing the same as he looked down to your lips like he did at Garcias before gliding back up to your eyes, “The lovers,” you cocked a small smile as the lyrics came out in a whisper, “The dreamers,” you tapped Spencer cheek softly as the gap finally closed and your lips pressed against Spencers for a short moment before you both pulled back slowly, “And me”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #alex blake #aaron hotchner #david rossi #penelopie garcia #garcia #spencer reid x reader #x reader #spencer x reader #reid x reader #jj #the candyman can

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