#but also the second she says no. not this. only the real you. the you not caught up in the darkness
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I definitely argue for more the former than the latter.
Like, Phoenix is def not always up to date on the newest thing - so maybe there are things he's just LEGITIMATELY unaware of until they're relevant to him.
And isn't that really how shit works for....pretty much everyone?
Also I'd argue that while Edgeworth is saying "every" legal professional, he's probably really talking about the prosecutorial side of things. In the Matt Engarde case, he straight told Phoenix that the De Killer is an INCREDIBLY well-kept secret among the police and prosecutors only. And only a select handful of that.
Phoenix likely knows of cases where De Killer is ultimately the murderer, but those are likely going to frequently be left unsolved and De Killer's name is clearly left out from the media. The police see the calling card, the prosecutors see it and go FUCK, because they already know that the crime scene is going to, essentially, be useless. De Killer is perfect. De Killer doesn't LEAVE real evidence. He's a random man with no connection to the murdered individual and I assure you he does not kill each person the exact same way every time, either. So the media wouldn't catch wind of it being a serial killer, either.
If Adrian Andrews hadn't messed with the crime scene AND hadn't taken the calling card, Miles would have no doubt stepped in IMMEDIATELY, the second that card was entered into evidence. I highly doubt that Franziska would have been made privy to the De Killer's cases. She's a damn good prosecutor, but there's a level of finesse that Miles has that she doesn't have (just yet - she'll get there. You see improvement, even, when she comes back in AA3). Also Japan (where the games take place and the localization team is bouncing off of) is just as if not more sexist than the US - her gender would definitely have an impact on whether she would be deemed trustworthy enough to know.
Which, by the way, is absolutely fucking TERRIBLE because the real reason NOT to tell her is that she's a Von Karma and Manfred was obviously corrupt as FUCK and Edgeworth only just barely has beaten the Demon Prosecutor allegations, thanks to Phoenix coming along and absolutely reshaping his worldview, by Franziska's prosecutorial debut, but I DIGRESS.
The whole legal world probs does know about the one case the Turnabout Terror lost; it's probably a case study used in law school - because there was no way there WASN'T a huge amount of media involvement. Two rival television stars, of competing television shows???? Hell yeah the media would have been in a frenzy out the GATE. And since court records can be requested, there ain't no WAY the court records for the Matt Engarde case didn't leak out to the Ace Attorney world as a whole.
Knowing that the AAI games take place after the original trilogy, Miles is likely operating on the assumption that the Matt Engarde case has been studied by most legal professionals, if not all. Phoenix's knowledge about De Killer came about when anything involving De Killer was disclosed on a need to know basis. He needed to know.
Before that case, he wouldn't have needed to. Because most people did not. After, though?
Yeah, after things would have been changed, across the board, for the AA world.
this implies one of two things: either the engarde case was a huge deal in-universe and de killer's profile rose since then, or phoenix wright is the most oblivious motherfucker in the entire legal practice
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alright, friends, i might say something you don't like but i think it's important. not just to defend a character, but because i think this is literally making people's experience and relationship with this game worse.
give jimmy like two seconds to exist.
by hating jimmy so much you refuse to even say his name, and judge real, living people for liking him, you are cheapening your experience by boiling down the main character to the most ~yuckiest~ moments. and, by not making a seperate space for hating on him, you are drowning out the voices of people who actually have nuanced things to say about his character. you know, the skilled writers and artists that feed the fandom? limitation is what kills fandoms, you have to know that.
is jimmy a good person? no. is he a good captain/companion/worker? Absolutely Not! he crumbles like dust under any pressure and he immediately shifts blame off of himself, he is an actively harmful individual and it's right to be upset by his actions. i literally had to stop myself from saying "man FUCK jimmy." multiple times because i didn't want to spoil how terrible he got to my friends when i showed the game to them.
but you have to understand; people are more than their actions. thats part of the entire point of the game. thats why its so abstract. you are meant to think about the nuances of their situation.
we can agree that anya was way more as a woman than what happened to her and what she did as a result of it, right? that despite her best efforts, she was a victim of circumstance, and she deserves to be understood and analyzed fully?
then why, seeing a fictional man who has done immoral things, are you so disgusted you won't even draw, write or discuss him outside of hate? what is that doing for you, to ignore literally the main character of the game because of his actions?
now, this is not to say people can't hate jimmy. i understand it! as someone who has been a victim of s/a and abuse, i understand if you hate him and are even triggered by him to the point of avoiding mention of him. (but...why are you in this fandom? ((not aggressive im genuinely asking)))
you can feel however you want about any character, my goal is not to control people. but i thought it was common knowledge to not hatepost about someone in their tag? over actual insight into his character and, you know, the main themes of the game?
jimmy is a man who has struggled his whole life. both him and curly confirm that in the game. he's unable to control his emotional outbursts, and he likely had no idea what to expect from being in fucking SPACE for over a year with people he probably didn't even know before that trip. and pony express and their corporate safety corner cutting certainly didnt help, did it?
for one reason or another, he most likely was never actually taught how to manage his emotions. that's just how it is sometimes, growing up as a man. and it would make sense if he was forced to deal with everything himself, no? he always complains, but he still says he'll handle it. because that's what he's always had to do. and this is just the start of what i could say about what made him the way that he is.
he's a victim too, not only of his own actions.
surprise surprise, people who do awful things can also be victims.
honestly, this entire situation baffles me. how are you going to avoid one of the main characters of the game, let alone the one you play as ninety percent of the time? mind you, curly is also guilty, and i am happy to see at least some people giving him space for nuance. because he is also a victim!!! why is it so impossible to see jimmy as nuanced, when literally every other character also has incredible depth to them??
you're tarnishing and spitting on the beautiful writing of this game just because one character is too icky for you to feel comfortable thinking about for too long. it's horror, you absolute morons. it's supposed to make you uncomfortable.
if you hate jimmy, i dont blame you. but please, please, make your own space for it. be kind to people who want to explore jimmy and the darker themes, and like him for what his character represents. this is a video game fandom, not a witch hunt. and please, learn some fandom etiquette while you're at it, okay? okay. thank you
also just say his name. its not a slur youre not gonna go to hell if you say jimmy. like this isn't as important but still it just feels like a microcosm of this whole thing.
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing jimmy#jimmy mouthwashing#mouthwashing crew#mouthwashing spoilers#mouthwashing anya#mouthwashing analysis#i am seriously so tired of seeing this#i tried to word this as nice as possible but#GggRRRAAHHH#HES A FICTIONAL CHARACTER HE IS MEANT TO BE EXPLORED.
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mess me up - paige bueckers
pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader wc: 6.1k content warnings: language, abuse of italics, grammatically incorrect past tense flashback, smut robbery(?), pretty mature but nothing graphic synopsis: your friends invited you out to a frat party to celebrate the men’s team winning the NCAA tournament where you bump into paige bueckers, the girl who you're in love with and who you ghosted for a month after hooking up with her. a much-needed conversation at the party forces you to revisit difficult memories and give her the closure she’s been seeking. notes: idk what this is! based loosely off of 'friends' and 'mess me up' by chase atlantic. unfortunately the smut robbery line is for real, like it's smut in the way lacroix tastes like real fruit (which is to say it's not smut, but like concepts of smut... 😝 (i've never had lacroix idk if this is accurate)) side note i hate writing in past tense but doing a traditional flashback scene is corny as hell! idk if it matters but this is set april 2024 (w/ a february 2024 flashback); doesn't really affect anything, so... anyway, second post on tumblr, lmk if we're rocking w it 🙂↕️
For the record, you didn’t want to come to this party.
It’s hot, sweaty, loud, and all you can smell is the same brand of men’s cologne and weed. The air is both stale and somehow feels wet and all you can think about is getting back to your apartment so you can shower and go to bed. You had a mock trial bright and early the next morning and your law professor was a stickler for punctuality and presentability – showing up with wrinkled clothes and smelling like a frat party was a sure-fire way to fail, and you had too much riding on your grades to let that happen.
The frat (whose name you’ve already forgotten) was celebrating the NCAA tournament win for the UCONN men’s basketball team. They’d apparently gone back to back, which you guess is cool, but you swore off basketball a long time ago. If you had your way, you’d be at home, three steps into your skincare routine, but you let peer pressure get the best of you and allowed your friends to drag you out.
It’d be fun, they said. You never come out with us! You’re spending all this tuition money and you’re not even taking advantage of it. How can you say you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?
You only remember that your friends are law students, too, in the most unfortunate of moments when they put their persuasiveness to the test. In the most unfortunate of moments, you’re also reminded of the fact that they’re college students, too, because they’re leaving you at the door and rushing off to find something to drink. You weren’t upset they dragged you out. Not necessarily. You were grown enough to say no. Perhaps you’d simply set your expectations too high when they begged you to come out and you thought they would spend at least a little bit of time with you before doing their own thing. But sure. It’s whatever.
So, here you are – standing alone in the corner of a frat party, watching as drunk college students grind against each other, laugh, and have a good time. A part of you feels like you’re missing out, but as you watch somebody throw up into a plant, you feel like you’re just fine where you are.
You’re drawn from your thoughts when a man wearing a backwards cap suddenly shows up next to you. “Yo, you thirsty?” he yells over the music, thrusting a red solo cup into your empty hands. You don’t have the time to say anything to him before he’s grinning at you, eyes red and hooded. “Come dance with me. You’re too pretty to be standin’ here all alone.”
You hear her before you see her.
“She’s good, bro, trust,” Paige interrupts smoothly, throwing a casual arm around your shoulders. You feel too much like a damsel in distress, but sensing the gravity of the situation, you flash the guy a light smile and lean into Paige slightly. Her grip tightens. You try to not let it bother you.
He raises his hands, surrendering. “My bad. You got it.”
Paige hums, unconvinced, as he leaves. When he’s out of your sight, you wrench yourself out of her grip. “Thank you, but not necessary,” you tell her sharply, red solo cup still in your hand. If this was how your night was going to go, then you need to be a little tipsy to survive it. You barely have it halfway to your mouth before Paige is pulling it out of your grasp, pouring its contents into a potted plant and chucking the cup into a nearby trash can. “What the fu–”
“First of all,” she begins, arms crossing protectively, “never accept a drink at a party that you didn’t pour, didn’t see someone else pour, or a drink that’s already open; matter fact, don’t accept a drink unless you opened it or brought it in yourself.”
You roll your eyes slightly. “This is Storrs, Paige. Do the frats really get down like that here?”
Her gaze is unimpressed. “You’re the law student, ma, you tell me the numbers. Second of all, you’re welcome. That was Kylin. He doesn’t take no for an answer in the first place but he’s all kinds of fucked up right now. I’d say I did you a favor but I wanted to talk to you, anyway.”
“Funny,” you deadpan. “Here? Now?”
“What are you doing here?” she asks you, ignoring your snippy words. “Thought this wasn’t your scene.”
You pause. “It’s not,” you confirm. “Jos and Chelsea wanted me to come out. Figured I should be a good friend once in a while.”
Paige raises a brow. “Jos and Chelsea are too busy playing strip poker with dudes from Kappa Phi to keep an eye on you, and you’re worried about having to be a good friend?”
“First of all,” you say in the know-it-all tone that Paige had used on you, “I don’t need them to keep an eye on me.” The blonde hums again, not entirely convinced, and the heat of her gaze makes you stumble over your words slightly. “Second of all, why do you even care?”
“We’re friends,” she states.
“We were once,” you correct, voice softening. It’s no secret that you and Paige had fucked up whatever you had going on. It’s never been clear whose fault your fallout was (it was yours), nor could the two of you ever agree on what destroyed you (you would argue that you shouldn’t hook up with your friends, especially not the ones you were in love with). It was a messy situation that you were sure the two of you couldn’t recover from (you didn’t want to be friends with someone you couldn’t have; Paige just wants you to give her the chance to prove you otherwise).
“Sure,” she agrees half-heartedly, knowing your spiel by heart now. “Kinda fucked up you think I need a reason to care.” You don’t dignify that with a proper response, feeling something strangely like guilt corroding your heart. “Come outside and get some air with me? Please? Just wanna talk, no funny shit, I promise.”
You sigh, feeling yourself fall back into all too familiar routines. You had a near inability to say no to Paige most times – it was the reason why you had to put a stop to your friendship. And here you are now, undoing all of the progress you’ve made since you’ve been apart (a small part of you knows better; you’re moving forward but you’re not really doing any better. You’re not progressing. You’re just stuck now, only this time, you have less than you did before). “Jos and Chelsea–”
“–made their choice,” she finishes for you. “And their choice was strip poker with a guy named Anthony,” she adds solemnly. You can’t help but quirk a smile at the absurdity of your life right now. “C’mon, please? It fucking reeks in here. They’ve got a porch swing outside and it’s all quiet and shit.”
“You’ve always had a way with words,” you tease.
“You comin’ or nah?” she asks, but you shove her forward (she lets you) and she leads you through the crowd to the door. They part like the Red Sea and you can’t help but admire the way she silently commands the room, feeling a flutter in your chest you try desperately to stomp out. It’s like a fire; all it takes is a small spark before it eventually grows out of proportion. You know better now.
The door shuts behind the two of you and you sit on the porch swing. You can still hear the music’s pounding bass, but it’s muted. You feel like you can hear your thoughts now. The tension in your shoulders eases as you take in the crisp night air, the crickets’ chirps, the occasional owl’s hoot. For a moment, you forget all of the complicated history between you and Paige; the way she held your hand as she kissed up your thigh, the way she stayed afterwards, cleaning you up and bringing you water. It almost seems as Paige is reliving all of it, too, as she looks at you, and that thought is sobering enough to bring you back to the moment.
You finally get a good look at what she’s wearing. It’s nothing outstanding; a gray Nike tech suit and a pair of dunks, although she’s opted to leave her jacket unzipped, revealing the crop top underneath. She’s dressed for comfort, though the most unfair part of it all is how good she looks when she’s not trying. Her cheekbones are sharp, eyes blue and wide and alert, and you can’t help but notice how fitting a slick-back bun is on her.
This was precisely why you needed your space. You couldn’t control your thoughts or feelings. It was manageable when you minded your business – the phrase out of sight, out of mind did wonders for you and you were usually busy enough that she only crossed your mind once or twice a week when the student population was buzzing about a recent game. But now? Now you’re fucked. You’re inches away from her and you’ve allowed her to pull you back into her orbit. She’s the Earth and you’re a meteor – any closer and you won’t be able to come back from the damage you would do to each other. She would survive, you’re sure, but you’d be destroyed in the process.
“So,” she says slowly. You avert your eyes, staring at anything but her. “How you been?”
“Good,” you lie. “Keeping busy.” That part was less of a lie, but it wasn’t her business to know.
Paige has always been good at reading you, so she gazes at you like she’s not convinced. “I think we’re overdue a conversation,” she says, surprising you. “A real one. No more of this running in circles bullshit.”
“Okay,” you agree hesitantly. You finally meet her eyes. They’re strikingly blue, disarming, and you feel an odd mixture of guilt and longing eat away at your insides. She looks like she’s drinking you in, like she’s trying to understand why you did what you did; her eyes soften in the dim glow of the porchlight and you can’t help but flush under her gaze. She always understands you in spite of how often you push her away – she seems to understand why you keep her at arm’s length, too, and it’s then that you fully understand how overwhelming it is to be known.
“Why did you leave?” she asks finally. You have to swallow back the bile in your throat. “The morning after.” Her clarification does nothing to soothe the turmoil in your stomach. “I thought…” Paige’s throat bobs as she tries to find the words. “It wasn’t a hook up. It meant something to me – everything to me. So why did you leave like that shit ain’t matter to you?”
That night in February comes back to you in the blur of a memory. You’ve thought about it so often that you could write a play-by-play of it; every single unremarkable detail comes back to you in a flourish of vibrant color – the way the floor felt beneath your feet as Paige guided you into her room, the slight scratch of her nail against the base of your neck as her hands found purchase in your hair. Paige was wrong. It meant something to you, too much to you. You often remind yourself, if it meant that much, why was it easier to run away? Jumping off of a diving board into a pool conceptually means the same thing as jumping off of a cliffside into beach waves; the jump isn’t the hard part, it’s the reminder of the distance between your feet and the surface. Your feelings for Paige are too consuming. It’s easier to not make the jump at all than it is to worry if you’ll be able to come up for air.
She was in high spirits, drunk off of their win against Villanova. They weren’t an opponent you’d typically call home for, but the Huskies were having a tough season with several injured players and a lot of underclassmen. It was close, 67-46; Paige had contributed to a little less than half of their points overall with a solid 31. She was happy, the rest of her team was happy, and she’d begged you to come over to her apartment for the post-game festivities – which was usually games and snacks as they weren’t big on drinking during the season. You’d nearly refused at first. It was supposed to be a small team get-together and you had some work to catch up on. You eventually gave in, like you always do. Paige had flashed her typical, charming smile, looping an arm around your waist, and you were a goner.
The team accepted you like you were one of their own, too. That was new. You didn’t spend as much time with them as you did with Jos and Chelsea, but it felt like you knew them better than you knew Jos and Chelsea, anyway. Ice and KK were two menacing peas in a pod – they were like sisters separated at birth and whenever they were together, something chaotic was bound to happen, but they loved and protected fiercely despite the way they teased each other and the team. Caroline was like the team mother and many of the girls called her such. Nika was intense on the court, but off of it, she was Paige’s twin through and through – they always had something to say to each other and their banter often brought smiles to everyone’s faces. Azzi was sweet and well-loved by the team (and the student population in general). She introduced you to her and Paige’s son Ines, which confused you at first, but Paige threw her arm over your shoulder and assured you that they’re only co-parenting because Carol has enough children and they didn’t want Ines to be a ward of the court. You couldn’t help but smile at that, leaning into Paige – something about the team’s dynamic healed you a little, and Ines joked that Paige went out and got her a stepmom.
You felt the blush creep up your neck as Paige tightened her grip around you slightly. “I didn’t want you to find out like this, son,” Paige had said somberly, pretending to look sad as Azzi rolled her eyes. “Your mother was havin’ an affair–”
“Oh, bullshit!” Azzi cried. The entire room broke out into fits of giggles.
“Now I understand why Paige wifed up a lawyer,” KK said in between laughter. “Tryna get a discount on that divorce, huh?”
The team had tears in their eyes from their excitement – you didn’t have the heart to tell them you were hoping to specialize in civil litigation, so you just laughed along. The conversation continued to flow as games were played. Nika was exceptionally bad at UNO and Paige never let her hear the end of it. You guys only managed to play a couple of rounds before Nika suddenly got good and played a +4, prompting Ice and KK to stack +4s of their own onto it – Paige stared in disbelief for a solid thirty seconds before picking up 12 cards and rage-quitting one turn later when KK skipped her.
“There, there,” you’d said, lips trembling as you tried not to laugh at the look on Paige’s face. You rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, and she pushed you off her gently, her own lips quirking in amusement. “Show this card game who’s boss.”
“Bro,” she grumbled, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she leaned back into the couch, her arm finding home over the back of your shoulders once more. You remember wondering if this is what normal felt like, what finally finding a community was like – you fit in too well with Paige’s teammates and they made you feel at home. Being near Paige made you feel at home. She was talented that way. She had an uncanny ability to make people feel at ease, regaling them with jokes and an endless supply of charm. When you realized you were in love with Paige Bueckers, you weren’t surprised about it. If anything, you might have been a little upset with yourself – you were sure you weren’t the only person she’d drawn in unintentionally, ensnared in a web whose latticework was meticulously shaped like basketball netting.
As the night went on, more and more laughs were shared until the clock reached midnight and many of Paige’s teammates got up to leave. Everyone shared hugs and affectionate goodnights. All of them even looped around to hug you – which was… nice. Paige shared her apartment with Azzi and Aubrey, so they retired to their own rooms after curious glances to you and Paige, still curled up together on the couch.
The apartment was quiet. You could hear the ring of silence as it enveloped the two of you, Paige’s gentle breathing, and the tick of the clock. It was oddly comforting; normally, it would have lulled you into a drowsy state, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the heat of Paige’s body next to yours, the brush of her thumb against your shoulder. Feeling both unmoored and tethered, you shift next to Paige, gathering her attention. “I should go,” you’d whispered. Her thumb halted.
“Stay,” she requested. She tilted her head. Her gaze met yours. You expected her eyes to be half-closed, dim with sleep. The rasp of her voice was attributed to a tone you knew she’d adopt when she was exhausted, but her eyes were wide, alert, dilated, a blue so dark you were sure you almost mistook the sheer want for something else. “Stay,” she murmured again. “Please.”
“Yeah,” you agreed almost breathlessly, feeling her hand squeeze your shoulder gently. “Sure.” She untangles from you and stands from the couch, offering you her hand, and you take it. She led you seamlessly through the dark of her apartment into her bedroom, where she released you long enough to rifle through her drawers, having found you a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt for you to wear to bed. Paige pointed you towards the bathroom. You changed into her clothes. Your fingers had shook with anticipation at the sheer domesticity of it all as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your – her – t-shirt read HOPKINS GIRLS BASKETBALL. It had all felt so different now. You hadn’t been sure at the moment if it terrified you or excited you.
You exited the bathroom to find Paige’s back to you, adjusting the band of a pair of basketball shorts around her hips. Her hair was out of her bun and it cascaded down her back in loose, wavy strands; you’d felt an inexplicable urge to run your fingers through it, to find out if her hair was as soft as it looked. She was wearing a dark black sports bra. The two of you were friends. Granted, you were in love with her, but the sight of her wearing nothing but ball shorts and her Nike bra shouldn’t have done the things it did to you.
“Which side is yours?” you’d asked, mostly to break the silence. You ignored the crack in your voice. Paige paid it no mind as she turned, which forced you to avert your eyes, trying not to glance at her abdominals.
“Don’t matter,” she responded. You watched the way she moved, sitting low on the bed, legs long and stark against the purple of her comfort. “You gettin’ in or what?” You hoped she couldn’t see the flush on your neck. You slid into bed next to her, hoping to maintain some sort of distance, but she refused to let you get too far. She slung her arm over your waist, fingers brushing against your skin where your shirt rode up. Her breath was even against your neck and the heat of her body nearly turned your brain into mush. “This okay?” she asked, tone softer.
“Mhm,” you hummed, afraid to speak or you might fuck up and tell her just how okay it actually was. Paige was just a touchy person, you tried to remind yourself as you felt the tickle of her hair against the nape of your neck. This doesn’t mean anything to her. It was all for naught. It did little to quell the way your heart raced, the way the heat pooled low in your belly.
“You looked good tonight,” she said casually. You tried to stop the goosebumps as they rose on your flesh. “You always do.”
Unable to think of something smart to say, you shifted your body slightly, your fingers splaying over the arm she held tight around your midsection. “Oh, yeah?” Her fingers brushed a little lower on your stomach, grazing the waistband of your shorts.
She hummed an affirmative, pulling you tighter against herself, and you could barely breathe. It was overwhelming in the best way – she was all around you. Physically, you felt as though you were in her skin as she greedily pulled you in. The scent of her was everywhere; the shampoo that seeped into her pillows, the cologne on her neck. Your hair stood on end as her lips brushed almost imperceptibly against the shell of your ear. “‘M glad you came tonight,” she whispered.
You flipped on your side, face-to-face with Paige. Her arm moved enough for you to get situated and once you were, her hand found the small of your back, her palm warm against your skin. You can’t help the way your breath hitched, even as Paige’s eyes seemed to take in the stuttering rise and fall of your chest. Having found some courage, you poked her cheek, drawing her eyes back up to yours. “What are we doing?” you asked finally, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. Her brow raised slightly, the dark blue of her gaze illuminated by the streaks of moonlight through her window. “No funny shit, Paige. You touch me like you want me, claim me in front of your friends.” You searched her eyes as she fell silent. “What are we doing?” you repeated, voice firmer.
“I want you,” she confessed after a few heartbeats of contemplation. She leaned in closer to you, your noses nearly brushing, and she continued, “I want you so fucking bad. Don’t wanna do anything you’ont want, but–”
Your lips were on hers before she had the chance to finish. She responded eagerly, one hand firm around your waist as she flipped the both of you over, pulling you to straddle her waist. You leaned down, your chest against hers, hands on each side of her neck. You felt the thundering of her pulse under your fingers. It was stabilizing in a sense – words were one thing, but to feel how badly you’d been able to affect her, too, did wonders for your growing ego. Paige’s hands had found your hips, keeping you pressed against her body.
You parted briefly to catch your breath. Paige’s chest heaved, her lips shiny and swollen. She was hard to look away from. For a moment, you’d wondered if this was worth it. Your heart had raced, beating uncontrollably; it felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Everything would change between the two of you. Was one night with Paige worth the risk of losing your friendship? You feel too strongly, too much, overwhelmingly. You’ve been told by an ex or two that you were simply too much. You wouldn’t want to subject Paige to that.
Her right hand met your face, tracing the line of your bottom lip. “You want this?” she asked. Her eyes were blown wide, more pupil than iris, but something about it entranced you. The desire in her eyes had brought fresh heat to your stomach, but coupled with the fact she’d be willing to stop made your heart beat a little faster. She was enough to quell your worries, settling the irregularity of your thoughts. You nodded, leaning down to connect your lips again, but her hand was insistent against your jaw as she held you back. “Words,” she commanded.
You’d barely resisted an eyeroll. “Yes, Paige,” you affirmed. Her hand loosened, eyes searching yours. “Want you.”
Her smile turned smug. “Yeah? How bad?”
The tease sent white-hot desire straight through your body as your hips rolled against hers, trying to find some relief. Her hands fall back down to your waist, helping you rut against her thigh as a shared flush creeped up both of your necks. “You gonna touch me?” you breathed against her lips. Her breath came out a disjointed stutter when you guided her hand to the swell of your ass. It was unnatural – Paige was so sure, so confident. To have her nearly at your mercy was like a drug through your veins, but you didn’t want her there. You wanted Paige fully in control; you wanted her to take care of you, to give you everything you’d fantasized about for months on end. You wanted her so bad it rewired the coding in your brain. There was something about her that broke down all of the walls you spent years building.
Your actions and words had been the only permission she needed. One of her hands gripped the flesh of your ass as the other one cupped the back of your neck. Her nail scratched you inadvertently as she dragged you back down to connect your lips – the slight echo of pain caused you to whine against her lips, a sound she swallowed greedily before she flipped the two of you over once more. Your head fell back against her pillows as she rucked up your shirt, finding that you’d opted to not wear a bra. She groaned indulgently, one large hand coming up to squeeze one of your breasts and her mouth finding the other one.
You ran your fingers through her hair, gripping it tight as she lavished you with attention. “So fuckin’ pretty,” she murmured against you, voice dripping with want. She pressed her knee against your core as she found her way back to your lips, kissing you deeply and drawing another whimper from your parted lips. It sent a jolt through your body. “You gon’ let me do what I want, huh? Get you right?”
“Paige, please,” you begged, all of the shame having left your body as you ground down against her knee, feeling the pleasure and relief simultaneously. “Fuck, do what you want, I don’t care – just please fucking touch me.”
She shushed you, lips back on yours, tongue brushing against your lips like she was trying to take whatever you’d give her. And at that point, you would have given her anything if it meant she’d stop teasing you. “I got you, ma, jus’ relax,” she whispered against your lips. She trailed a blazing path down your chest, leaving hickies as she went. Paige reached the waistband of your shorts; she pressed a sloppy kiss to your navel before bunching her fingers in and pulling them off, throwing them haphazardly into the room.
The air was cold against you. You were breathing heavily by then, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. Her hand untwisted yours from the bedsheets, linking your fingers together, and that touch alone was enough to bring you back down to earth. “I got you,” she promised again, reminding you, pressing diligent kisses against the inside of your thigh. You relaxed ever so slightly against her, feeling as though you could breathe a little easier, but your body was still incredibly high strung. Paige squeezed your hand. Then her mouth was on you, and you were done for.
She held your hand as she went down on you, talking you through it until your orgasm reached its peak and you sunk into the bed bonelessly. She didn’t release you when she came back up, her smile a mix of smugness, pride, and quiet adoration. Paige kissed your knuckles, your cheeks, your lips, drawing a contented sigh out of you. “You good?” she asked, brushing your hair out of your eyes, hand cradling your jaw.
Exhausted, all you could do was hum an affirmative. Paige flashed a small smile again, pressing a kiss to your forehead and crawling off the bed, much to your surprise. “Lemme get you some water,” she said. “‘M coming right back, I promise.”
You nodded wordlessly, closing your eyes and sinking back into the pillows as your breathing evens out. She left her room, the door shutting with a silent click. In the silence of Paige’s bedroom, curled up in her purple comforter, all you can think about is how the future of your friendship has inexplicably changed forever. She said she wanted you. Did she just mean sexually? Paige was always intentional in her communication, a byproduct of her media training. Tears brimmed your eyes when you considered the idea that you might have just been another Wednesday night fling for her. Here you are again, feeling stupid about the overwhelming feelings you harbored for Paige despite your better judgment. The worst part was that it wasn’t her fault. You got your hopes up.
You wiped your eyes when you heard the door open again. Paige crossed the room, cracking open a cold bottle of water for you and pressing it to your lips. You nearly forgot about your inner turmoil when she smiled at you again, having thrown her hair back up into its bun. “Gonna clean you up, okay?” she informed you. At your nod, she runs a warm washcloth between your thighs, getting rid of the lingering stickiness. She carefully redressed you, squeezing your hips gently, and you’re left feeling so incredibly conflicted that you’re breathless with the anxiety. Paige disposed of the washcloth and curled up next to you in bed once more, an arm wrapping around your midsection. You’d told each other goodnight, but as her breath evens out against your neck, your mind races.
You slept fitfully through the night. And when morning light rolled around, you extracted yourself from Paige’s grip, sliding a pillow into her arms. The nervousness and all of your overthinking thoughts made you queasy with grief. You were in love with Paige Bueckers. That much was true. You were too head over heels for her to return to normalcy; you couldn’t. At that point, it would be easier for you to not be friends with her at all than to pretend like she wasn’t everything you’d ever wanted.
As she slept, you casted one last guilty look over your shoulder and you ran.
But that night in February has long since passed, and on the porch swing on a much warmer night in April, Paige stares at you in desperation, seeking answers to the questions you’ve withheld for over a month. “Why did you leave?” she asks you again. “Fuck, tell me the truth, lie to me, whatever, just please give me something to work with.”
“It was overwhelming,” you finally admit, twisting the rings on your fingers. You feel terrible as you glance at Paige, whose eyes soften when she takes in your expression.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shoulda seen that something was wrong.”
You close your eyes, lips trembling. You’re touched at how she instantly takes responsibility for your fuck ups, thinking she’s done something wrong. “No, Paige,” you correct her. “Fuck. It wasn’t you. It was never you.” You pick at a loose string on your shorts. She stares at you, waiting for you to continue. “You were so gentle. That night meant everything to me, and that was the problem. I wanted you so bad – Jesus Christ, I was in love with you for months. I don’t do casual. I always feel too strongly and I loved you so much that it was fucking overwhelming. I woke up and nearly lost it because I couldn’t handle the idea of having you like that and having to pretend like I didn’t want you like that forever. It was so much easier to run and not face the possibility of having to be your friend when all I’ve wanted was more.”
When you finally look back to Paige, her eyes are wide with something that looks strangely like grief, like you’ve pulled the rug from under her feet and watched as she fell. As you think about it, that’s probably what you’ve done, anyway. She spent so long thinking that your fallout was her fault, that it was something she’d done, but the ugly truth of the matter was that you were too scared of the way you felt for her that you ran from it instead. Paige runs a frustrated hand over her jaw, her expression nearly unreadable. You frown. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly, knowing that your apology is long overdue. You fucked up so incredibly bad with her. Your brain remembers her prior words, the ‘It wasn’t a hook up. It meant something to me – everything to me,’ and you suddenly feel like an idiot. God, it was mutual this entire time and you were too caught up in yourself to realize it.
“You think too fucking much,” Paige says finally, and you hardly have the time to react before she’s kissing you, her hands gripping your hips. You nearly gasp against her lips before you fully register what’s happening. Sinking into it, you wrap your arms around her neck, feeling suddenly like everything is finally aligning, that all of your blurred focal points sharpen. When she pulls away, her eyes are alight with understanding. “So, lemme get this straight. You pushed me away ‘cause you’re in love with me, then we fucked, and you thought I wouldn’t wife you up?”
You frown, feeling stupid all over again. “Well, when you put it like that…yeah?”
Paige sighs. “Fuck. Look at my lawyer – you’d send dudes to jail left and fucking right ‘cause you jump to conclusions too early. Thank God you’re not going into criminal defense.”
You shove her away from you, feeling the embarrassment bloom on your cheeks. You can’t help but laugh as you say, “You’re an asshole.”
She guffaws, reaching for your hands, intertwining your fingers. “Says you! You ghosted me for a month and let me think I fucked us up. Jesus Christ.” She twists the ring on your finger mindlessly as she searches for the right words. “Okay, lemme be really fucking clear. I’m in love with you, too. Like, I’m fuckin’ crazy about you. There is nobody but you. You aren’t too much for me – I love you for you, no ifs, ands, buts, whys, hows, nothing. I know you thought you were protecting us by pushin’ me away, but you gotta let me make that choice, too. I want this with you, alright? Will you gimme that chance?”
Her words leave the two of you in silence. You can still hear the chirp of the crickets, the thrumming from the party indoors. You can feel the way her thumb brushes over your knuckles, the way her eyes bore into yours, patiently waiting for your decision. But distinctly, you can see the plea, the desperation for you to just give into what she knows the both of you are feeling. Your anxiety and constant overthinking never ruined the two of you. It may have set you back, but you and Paige found your way back to each other. Maybe you’re not a meteor, dangerously crashing into her and disintegrating on impact. Maybe the two of you are something simpler – the moon and the tide. She was never going to let you get hurt if only you’d give her the opportunity to show you that.
So, you take that leap – whether it’s off the diving board into the pool or the cliffside into beach waves, you don’t care. You know now that Paige is waiting for you at the surface. “I want this, too,” you affirm, watching the smile bloom on her face like springtime flowers, and you seal the deal by pressing your lips to hers. She responds eagerly, her arms tight around you. You loathe that it took the two of you this long, that it was your fault for not trusting Paige with your heart when she’s given you no real reason to doubt her; despite this, her lips taste like forgiveness and yours like atonement. In spite of everything, you made it here in the end, and it was worth it.
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Little morning - Life after Hogwarts
synopsis ✧ Being a parent wasn't exactly easy and Sebastian found that out the hard way after the birth of his first son--who was now two-years-old and they were also expecting another. But regardless, he loved being a father. But the biggest problem with having a pregnant wife? A little toddler who just so happens to be a big mummy's boy that tries to wake her up at any chance he gets.
tags ✧ Fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, like so much fluff you guys. Talks of pregnancy and babies (ofc), toddlers (thats a warning in itself haha), marriage, just all the domestic cutesy stuff we all love. .
word count ✧ 1.6k
a/n ✧ Just some random cute idea I got and I have been ITCHING to write Seb and Matty as parents. You've probably seen my other posts about their kids when they are older but I really wanted to do some of the younger stuff as well because the baby fever is strong rn and I need a outlet LOL.🥺 Hope you enjoy! xoxo
Sebastian Sallow severely underestimated how difficult being a parent would be and just how much sleep he would lose by being one as well. Sure, he knew kids were difficult, and his wife had told him countless stories of the kids she had nannied or worked with who were difficult, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the real deal.
Little Eleazar was just past two years old by now, and yes, he was an abnormally well-behaved child; he still was a toddler, and well—toddlers did toddler things.
But despite the lack of sleep, the rough days, and the struggle of learning how to be a first-time parent, it was all worth it. They loved their little boy, and they loved him just the way he was.
And apparently it was “so worth” it enough that Matty was now pregnant with their second child. Or at least in Sebastian’s words, it was “so worth” having another. Matty had always wanted a couple of children, so she was up for having a second, but Sebastian was definitely the one who pushed the idea to have another.
Hence why she was now seven months pregnant and dealing with a toddler. But thankfully, Sebastian was a very hands-on and involved dad, and it made it all so much easier. He was an amazing husband and father. (She couldn’t lie and say that wasn’t the reason why she considered a second.)
It was nearing seven am when Sebastian, who was half asleep, heard the little pitter-patter of footsteps nearing the bedroom door. They had moved Ele into a different room a couple of months ago so he could get used to sleeping without Mum and Dad, especially once the new baby was around. But almost every morning, like clockwork, he managed to climb out of his crib and sneak off to Mum and Dad's room.
Sebastian, immediately knowing who it was, sat up and rubbed his eyes. The little footsteps stopped right at the door, which meant the door needed to be opened. Eleazar wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the door handle and turn it, so usually Sebastian would have to do it himself since he was the first one up.
He could practically hear his son pouting on the other side of the door, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake up Matty, who was still peacefully sleeping.
He walked over to the door before opening it, looking down at his son. “Well, good morning,” he said, his voice still gravelly.
Eleazar quickly put his hands up, babbling a little to let his dad know that he wanted to be picked up. Sebastian leaned down and grabbed the little boy up in his arms. “You’re two years old; you gotta start using your words, buddy.” He softly encouraged. But it seemed like Ele was too tired to speak anyway since he was rubbing his eyes the moment he was up in his father's arms.
Sebastian sat back down in bed, Eleazar placed in between him and Matty. “If you’re going to be here, you gotta go back to sleep.” He said, trailing his knuckle against his son's chubby cheeks. Of course, he was only saying this to try and get more sleep himself, but when did toddlers ever listen to anybody?
Instead, Eleazar turned around, seeing that his mother was in bed. “Mummy,” he babbled with a big smile, crawling over to where she was sleeping.
Sebastian’s heart almost jumped out of his chest as he had to quickly grab his son and pull him away from his mother in order for him not to wake her up. She definitely needed more sleep. “Wait, wait, no, we can’t go to Mummy right now, okay? Mummy is sleeping.” Sebastian tried to explain.
However, Eleazar did not like being told no. Especially when it came to his mummy. The corner of his lips curled down, forming a little frown, and by the way his little bottom lip quivered, Sebastian could quickly tell that he was going to start crying.
Panicking a little more, Sebastian quickly grabbed the little boy up in his arms. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” He soothed. “We just can’t wake up Mummy right now; she’s resting.”
He knew Eleazar couldn’t understand a lick of what he was saying, but he hoped the tone of his voice would help calm him down. “Mummy is very tired, and she has little brother or sister to deal with too, okay?” He continued. “I can assure you that definitely isn’t easy.” He half mumbled under his breath with a chuckle. But that was more for his own amusement than an explanation.
Ele didn’t cry, but he looked up at his father with his big blue eyes that he had inherited from his mother, a pout still on his face. “Mummy.” He repeated, this time more determined.
Sebastian sighed, shifting to where he was now lying down with the child in his arms. “Mummy is asleep. Which is what you should be doing right now too. You’re still so young to be waking up this early.”
“No.”
Sebastian sighed again. He hated the fact that usually one of the first five words for children was usually no. It was helpful when they could communicate what they wanted, but it also happened to become their favorite word very quickly. Saying no to everything mummy or daddy needed them to do.
“Yes.”
“Mm-hm.” Eleazar shook his head, clearly conveying that he was saying no.
“What am I going to do with you?” He chuckled, pinching his son's cheeks.
But luckily for the both of them, Matty shifted a little, signaling that she was indeed finally awake. Ele quickly looked behind him, seeing his mother begin to wake up. A big smile instantly appeared on his face, and he slipped out of his dad's arms and immediately crawled over to his mother. He was a big mummy’s boy and always wanted to be with her.
When Matty felt two little hands on her arms, she chuckled, opening her eyes. “Good morning, sweetheart,” she said sweetly, the sleep still obvious in her voice.
Eleazar immediately plopped his full body weight onto his mother, giving her a big hug. She laughed, giving him a hug back before sitting up. She looked over at Sebastian and then back down to her son. “Something tells me you’ve been giving your father a little bit of a hard time.” She said, poking her son's little tummy.
“I’ll say,” Sebastian muttered. “Little bugger tried to wake you up the moment he got into bed.”
Matty smiled. “He just loves his mummy,” she cooed, shifting little Ele so she could have him comfortably against her.
Raising a toddler and being pregnant definitely wasn’t easy, but to Matty, it was worth it in the long run. Not all mornings did she wake up as nicely as she did now, but these mornings definitely helped and made up for the bad days.
“Well, thank you for letting me sleep in a little longer.” She said to Sebastian before leaning in for a quick good morning kiss from him. Sebastian smiled into the kiss, enjoying the attention from his wife. Sometimes that was scarce between work and raising a baby, so he was always loving any attention he got from her.
Meanwhile, little Ele was looking at his mother's belly, still wondering what on earth was going on there. It started to frustrate him that he could no longer sit on his mummy’s lap, but he slightly understood the concept of having another new little sibling that was seemingly “in mummy’s tummy” and that it was a baby.
Matty looked down and chuckled. “Say hi to the baby, Ele.” She urged.
Eleazar didn’t say anything, but he did wave, thinking that his little brother or sister could see him do so. Matty giggled a little bit at her son's expression, and she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. “In just a little bit you’ll have a new brother or sister, and it’s gonna be sooo fun,” she said.
“Sleepless nights and screaming babies are an interesting thing to consider fun.” Sebastian joked sarcastically.
“Remind me whose idea it was to have a second?” Matty said, raising her brow at her husband. She knew he was just joking, but she did like to poke fun at him because, after all, it was his idea to have another baby once Eleazar was a little older.
“It was mine, and I’ll totally own up to that.” He chuckled, pulling his wife close to him. “And I can’t wait to have another. Anything from you is a complete blessing, and I’m lucky to have you and our children.”
Matty smiled and leaned her head against his chest. She had married the right man, that’s for sure. And boy did she love him.
“I hope it’s a girl,” Sebastian mumbled into her neck.
“Don’t want another little boy?” She chuckled, looking at him with a raised brow.
Sebastian shrugged. “I’ll be happy either way. I just want a healthy baby. But since we have a boy already, I think it’d be nice to have a sweet little girl. Beautiful and intelligent, just like her mother.” He said, giving Matty a little squeeze.
“And here I thought you wanted a little mini-you.” Matty said.
“Oh trust me, I do.” Sebastian replied. “But who's to say that a little girl can’t be my mini-me? We can get into all sorts of trouble together.”
“Mhm, right. Not on my watch.” Matty joked with a laugh.
“Worth a shot.” Sebastian grinned.
I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you so much for reading! 🥺❤️
#hogwarts legacy#hl#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy mc#mc#Matty Ambrose#Sebastian Sallow x MC#Sebastian Sallow fanfiction#Hogwarts legacy fanfiction#Ambrollow#fankids#fan child
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My thoughts on Billy are this:
Pearl has no named pet in Last Life. She had a wolf army but only two survived with her to the final fight, she didn’t react very much when they died, and she never named any of them. She used them to great effect for killing, however, which is a lesson she would bring with her into DL. She did utilize them to help Ren kill Cleo, which… cycles and all that. “We want to kill Cleo and then we can reconnect the three Gs” lives in my head rent free. The only other pet she has is her two axolotls, which she does not name and both of which Joel kills.
I don’t know that Pearl has ever really connected to an animal the way she connected to Tilly because she hasn’t been alone since Double Life. Tilly was her lifeline because she was all Pearl had. She was her soulmate because no one else wanted her. She was the only living being who Pearl could rely on. And both times losing her were devastating to Pearl. The first time, it kicked off the Scarlet Pearl arc, and the second time it spurred on her rampage towards Impulse and Bdubs, and Cleo and Martyn. She had her wolf pack because when you can’t count on allies to fight beside you, to protect you and want you to live, you have to be able to count on something.
This is in contrast to every series since, where Pearl has largely kept her animals tucked away in her base and where her pets have been more important in the way they help her interact with other players than anything.
The first thing Pearl says to Froggy is, “I found you! Hello! This is gonna be my friend of the season, in animal form”, because she wanted to be prepared in case she was alone again. And then said “You are my love. If you die, I don’t know what I would do,” because again, she was thinking about what happened after Tilly’s first death. She was preparing to need animal companionship in lieu of players, but then she found BigB.
Froggy stayed at the bottom of that pit trap for the rest of the series if I remember correctly, and Pearl hardly ever moved her from that one corner of the tower even before that. Why? Because she had BigB to bounce off of, and because, frankly, cats just aren’t as useful as wolves in Minecraft. You don’t get a cat for protection, unless you’re really that scared of creepers. Pearl wanted a companion from Froggy, not a warrior. She didn’t want to risk losing something dear again, so when Froggy falls into the pit trap that kills Pearl, that she herself set, she leaves her at the bottom.
Mailbox and Matchbox were closer to the kind of companionship she had with some of the wolves in DL, but certainly not Tilly level. And again, she didn’t want to risk losing them, which is why they stayed tucked under her base near the skeleton farm. It’s why her main concern when the wither and the warden were out was to get three things underground: Matchbox, Mailbox, and Bdubs. She didn’t want to lose any of them.
However, the most important thing about her wolves in SL, to me, is how they affected her interactions with other players. For one, they were the catalyst for the “Pupper Alliance” with Cleo. Pearl doesn’t play the social game, so she often takes alliances in situations of when you can materially help each other, rather than out of friendliness. Needing bones to tame wolves gave her a material reason to ally with Cleo. It also meant that we got yet another Cleo and Pearl betrayal when Cleo killed some of Pearl’s wolves later on. The other is something Pearl actually said in her episode today. She knows how powerful a wolf army is, it’s a large part of how she won Doible Life. Which is why when it came down the wire, because she had no intentions of winning, she left Matchbox and Mailbox at home and sat down her wolves so they wouldn’t hurt Gem. That was Scar’s kill, his fight with Gem. It’s probably the most literal example of her wolves taking a backseat to her companionship with other players.
In Real Life, she was just doing it as a joke and because she wanted to pet a Minecraft wolf in VR (which I respect so hard) and thus I have no analysis lol.
As for this season, it seems like Pearl’s theme this whole season has been “trying to live up to what people think I am, even though I’m not that anymore”. It’s why it’s kind of funny that she keeps trying to do the cool Scarlet Pearl killer thing and failing miserably. And it’s why when she comes across the wolf in episode one, she goes out of her way to not only tame it, but name it something so close to Tilly (yes I know she was likely also playing into the Tilly Milly thing). But just like with Froggy and just like with Matchbox and Mailbox, her main priority is keeping them safe, not with using them to win. She doesn’t want to win, she’s here to have fun!
Losing Billy isn’t devastating to Pearl because, unlike in DL or LimL, she doesn’t really need the wolves for emotional support, and unlike in LL, DL, or SL, she had no intention of making a dog army because she has no intention of placing high. Pearl has literally said she wants to see a top four of people who haven’t made top four before (and Impulse lol), which as the only person who’s ever made top four in all of her seasons (4th, 1st, 4th, 2nd), is a pretty big tell. She was trying to keep him safe by not moving him, but like she said to Joel, everything dies in the Life Series.
I would also like to point out, Pearl has only ever named two of her pets entirely on her own, Matchbox and Milly. Martyn named Tilly because she had accidentally trampled some wheat (tilling, get it?) She named Froggy after the frogs that BigB had said were his family, because Froggy was hers. Mailbox, if I’m remembering, was a Bdubs idea. Matchbox was only named because Pearl kept accidentally calling Mailbox Matchbox so she decided to just name one of her other wolves. Milly was a joke that Pearl came up with. And Billy was Cleo’s suggestion. To quote Pearl when she found Froggy, “I don’t know what I’m gonna call you yet. We’ll find out. You know usually we kinda figure these things out when we go talk to somebody,”
#pearlescentmoon#life series#last life smp#double life SMP#limited life SMP#secret life SMP#wild life SMP#wild life spoilers#real life SMP
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hey I was planning another post today but instead let’s talk about how much I love that there’s not really a ‘good’ ending to the companion plotlines in Veilguard. It reminds me of Leliana and Alistair’s plotlines in DAO in that what you choose says more about the player/protagonist than anything
I just finished Isana Negat a second time, and I did the other ending and I thought it was just as good. Like, yeah, Harding does deserve to be angry! They did fucking get everything taken away from them! It’s so painful and horrific; yes you can, and should, be mad! But also Harding prioritizing her very real love for and compassion towards other people is not wrong. It’s just different! It’s just Rook’s friend/lover asking them for advice, and Rook giving it! You know, like in real life except with huge magical rock giants
And okay I’m never going to kill Illario because I think it would make Luca really sad and he has enough problems, Whoops I misremembered this, I don’t think you can kill Illario actually. I love that for Luca <3 But yk, I’m probably still not going to imprison him. but I can see it! Because the cycle has to end, right? The violence and infighting of the Crows endlessly attacking each other over power is part of what allowed the Antaam to get a foothold in Antiva, because there was like a double agent or something (if I’m remembering right from Tev Nights). Some kind of ending needs to be made to this endless violence. And I suppose it depends on how retributive Rook is, which is a great question to ask of the player (one that is asked repeatedly throughout the game). It’s not like Illario didn’t do anything, you know! He probably deserves punishment. But Rook, as they always can at various points, can be merciful, can choose absolution. Wow no, I’m glad I was wrong I love it more like this.
And oh boy, I LOVED the ending of Emmrich’s quest, don’t even get me started! Like!! I thought it was going to be ‘well obviously we HAVE to save Manfred’, but how Emmrich talks about accepting his death and his sacrifice convinced me! I was like alright man, this is a real choice! I actually did make him a lich last time (made a lot of sense from a Watcher perspective, imo) and not only was the cutscene sick as hell, but the follow-up was so funny and I got some really sad Spite dialogue which fucking wrecked me. It was great— seriously, his plotline is one of my favorites in the whole game.
And Davrin’s! I’ve already expounded at length about how much I like his quest line and how it ties into the Grey Wardens, but I really think both of his options for the griffons are so workable, because you know the Grey Wardens, especially under Antione and Evka, aren’t going to hurt those little guys again! But also the scenes with Eldrin are so endearing, and Davrin’s hope for a brighter future for them is so sweet and genuine. It’s hard to pick! It’s about Rook's perspective!
Neve's I'll admit I don't vibe with as much just because of the like 'trust the authorities' angle, but i haven't tried saving Minrathous yet and I think it would be sooooo involving as a Shadow Dragon especially. Because that's what they're fighting for, right? That better Minrathous where they CAN be sure that if they send the insane cultist lady to prison she’s going to stay there? But there’s always the practical consideration of people’s lives being at stake NOW, of Neve needing her friends safe NOW. And just killing Aelia ensures she will never be an issue again. So I can see both angles for sure
And Taash ;-; oh, Taash. I haven’t posted about them that much yet because they make me very emotional and it’s hard to organize thoughts like that. But I really love their quest, and their struggle to define themselves. And look, I know people wanted the option to tell them they could be both, but like as a person who has lived a similar experience, it really feels sometimes like the world is making you choose. It can feel like you’re not enough of either thing for anyone. And there are parts of your identity that you will have to make a choice on, and I think it’s trying to speak to that. I did the Rivaini one, and it’s like… well, they’re embracing the culture of Rivain, but it’s not like anyone is ever going to look at them and NOT see a Qunari. You can’t get away from that. What you choose to do in response is a real dilemma and I think that if you engage with the text genuinely you can see what Trick was doing. Also, there is a really great dialogue from Rook that I think gives more context to the discussion; they can say that they have been many things, and it’s important to take what works from each experience and make it part of yourself. So I don’t think Taash’s plot is trying to make them throw away any of themselves, just defining priorities. (Sorry, that got long. Feelings, opinions about that one)
And I don’t think Bellara’s is obvious, either, especially with how they involve the Nadas Dirthalen in her personal plot. This is a thing that is really emotionally and culturally significant to her, but at the same time it is part of what hurt her brother and ultimately took him away from her. She’s really preoccupied with not causing harm by her actions; she spends the whole game worried about it! And even though Rook doesn’t see the dangerous elements of the repository, that doesn’t mean they’re not there. The puzzle quest you can find in Arlathan proves that other people besides Cyrian were taken in by Anaris. And also, there’s the plot thread they briefly touched on in the last game which is that the culture the Dalish have built, that they have RIGHT NOW, is not wrong. But it’s also important to remember history, even if it’s unpleasant or could be dangerous, which is another thing you can discuss with Bellara during the game. So there’s no wrong choice! It’s just about Rook and Bellara and what’s important from their perspectives.
Anyway it was super refreshing to have these kinds of choices! It reminds me of the best character choices in DAI and DAO, especially, and I’m so happy they carried those things forward and improved on them.
#datv spoilers#veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age#veilguard spoilers#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard#Taash#bellara lutare#davrin#lucanis dellamorte#neve gallus#lace harding#emmrich volkarin
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ready (klaus mikaelson)
plot: klaus always knew that one day you'd take him up on his offer.
character: female vampire reader x klaus mikaelson
inspired by something similar he says to caroline
"One day, love, you'll come to me. Might be in two years, might be two hundred but mark my words, you'll realise I was right along. I am the only one who can fulfil your wildest desires and your largest dreams. When you realise that, you'll come knocking on my door and then... well, love, then I'll give you the world."
It had been three and a half years since Klaus Mikaelson had said this to you. Three long years. He'd came into your life as a villain, you were supposed to hate him. He had killed, harmed and tortured so many of your friends (and his sister had tortured you a fair few times) and yet, he was always so delicate and gentle with you. He'd been interested in you pretty much ever since he came to Mystic Falls. You'd hated him... or at least, you tried.
He had gotten under your skin all of those years ago. He'd saved you too many times to count. He had shown you kindness and compassion, had recognised you for who you were; Klaus had seen you. You'd gotten to see a glimpse of the human side to him, not the scary big bad wolf, you'd started to see him. And when he left, with an invite extended your way, it took everything in you to say no.
Klaus hadn't stepped foot in Mystic Falls since he left and yet, every few months or so, he would write to you. Seldom did you respond but you enjoyed reading about his travels. Each time he wrote, he would send photos of the new place he was visiting usually with a list of reasons as to why you'd love it there with drawings he'd done and every single time he wrote, he attached a plane ticket to whatever destination with your name on it. You never used them, instead they gathered dust in a drawer which was full of his old letters. Klaus also always wrote exactly where he was staying at the end of the letter so you knew exactly how to get to him. Periodically, you'd go through and read some of them. They always smelled like him and had the same send off each time.
'Unequivocally yours, Klaus'
You knew that if you needed him, he would be there immediately. He had promised you as such. And the one time you called for help when Caroline got bit by a werewolf, Klaus couldn't be there in person but he sent Elijah with a few vials of his blood (extras for any future emergencies). He would do anything for you and all he wanted was the chance to show you as such.
So when this month's letter arrived with details of his new adventure complete with a plane ticket to Italy, you decided to take the chance you'd regretted not taking three and a half years prior. Your friends were oddly supportive which surprised you but Bonnie had told you she wanted you to be happy and if he's what made you happy then so be it. Damon wasn't impressed but he rarely ever was. Stefan urged you to your happy ending. Caroline approved, she'd seen the way Klaus would've done anything for you so even though she didn't like him, she knew that he was the real deal. Elena was supportive, she'd gone for the 'bad guy' in Damon so she understood the inner conflict and told you that it was okay to let yourself be happy.
So, you packed a bag and headed to Italy.
Getting there was the easy bit; the hard bit was finding the courage to knock on the front door. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stood on the grounds of what you could only describe as a small castle. It was beautiful, with glorious gardens and fragrant flowers. You swallowed hard before taking a breath, this is what you came for, and you knocked three times.
After a few seconds, you could hear someone's voice approaching. Klaus.
"-I didn't ask you to go to such lengths, brother, though I have to say I do appreciate it-"
He opened the door and his expression turned from one of mild annoyance to complete shock.
"Elijah, more important matters have emerged, I'll speak to you later." He hung up, pocketing his phone quickly. He looked good. The Italian sun suited him, turning his hair a shade blonder and making his blue eyes pop, "(y/n)..." A slow, wide smile spread onto his face.
You swallowed hard, "Hi, Klaus."
He stepped aside, silently inviting you into his castle, and with a small smile you breezed past him. He closed the door and led you through to a grand room with various couches and paintings. You looked around incredulously, "This place... it's incredible."
Klaus smiled, "I told you that you'd like this one."
You looked at him and felt nerves bubble in your stomach. You'd came all this way and now... you didn't know what to do. Klaus eyed you curiously, trying to gauge how you were feeling, "Do you need something?" Oh, how he hoped that you were here for him but he had to be sure.
You shook your head, finding words too hard to find, and instead looked back to the paintings, "These are beautiful, did you do these?"
Klaus appeared at your side, making you jump slightly, "Sorry, love," he smirked. He was so close to you, so near that you could smell his cologne. Your heart raced. His hand reached out past you to touch the painting, "I painted all of these, yes. This one is my favourite."
"The colours are lovely," you nodded.
Klaus smiled, quickly vanishing and then returning to your side, "Here, look in the mirror and then look at the painting."
You frowned at him but complied regardless of your confusion. He handed you a small hand mirror which you looked into and then at the painting, "I don't get it," you said to which he urged you to look again and then you realised, "my eyes."
Klaus grinned, "There we go, love," he beamed proudly, "my favourite colours and shades to use. They crop up a lot in my paintings. Go, look," he encouraged you forwards, "take a look and you'll see how often you feature in my paintings."
For a moment, you walked around the room, soaking in the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) hints of your eye colour in every single one of his paintings. It touched you causing you to feel warm inside and you couldn't understand why. You looked at him. He stood on the other side of the room watching you with awe filled eyes, "But why?" You asked softly with tears filling your eyes, "Why me?"
In an instant, he was in front of you, chest touching yours, with his eyes locked with yours, "Oh, love," he whispered, hand reaching out to graze your cheek softly, "It's always been you."
You looked up at him, "You asked me if I needed something earlier." Klaus's brow furrowed and his hand stilled - fear; fear that you weren't here for him, fear that you needed something and then you'd disappear again. "I do need something, Klaus."
"Anything."
"I want... I need you." Your admission was quiet but he heard you loud and clear, "For years, I've regretted saying no to your offer to come with you. I want to live, Klaus. I want to be free. I want to be happy and that means letting myself be happy with... you."
"Me?" Klaus asked.
You nodded as your own hand found its way to rest on his chest, "I'm ready to fall in love with you, Klaus. I just hope I'm not too late."
He grinned, wider than you'd ever seen him smile, "You're right on time, love," he said before his lips crashed to yours. And for the first time ever, you let yourself give in.
#one shot#reader insert#os#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaelson imagine#imagine#tvd#tvd imagine#the vampire diaries imagine#the vampire diaries
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I feel like for Laura the reason she’d like Worst Wolvie so much isn’t because he reminded her of her Logan but because he didn’t pretend to miss a Logan he didn’t know.
See because the timelines and universes are all fucky, my HC is that 10005 doesn’t have a Logan of its own but the that Logan (2017) was only known by Wade bc obviously and maybe the X-men because they had some dealings with the multiverse as well. And basically the idea of “The Wolverine” is what people idolize more than the actual man.
So when Laura goes to live in the X-mansion she has a hard time coping with the fact that none of the X-men actually knew Logan. None of them actually met him. None of them knew his real name was James or that he talked in sleep, or that he was a sad alcoholic who wanted nothing more than to die in his last years but they all talk about him like he was this BIG HERO. This savior of a world, this bastion of virtue etc etc. And it hurts her that these strangers are talking about her dad like they knew him when all they knew was the stories told through a filter of heroism.
And yeah sure her dad was a hero in some respects but he was also a person, just like her and hurts that even in death he loses his humanity (even though it’s not necessarily negative this time).
What’s worse is when they ask her if she’s proud of him for dying like he did. Or worse, do you think he’d be proud of you for helping a version of himself?
So I think she like Worst Wolvie because he doesn’t have any kind of pretense of what a Logan should be. And because yeah he doesn’t remind her of her dad because in some ways he is but he doesn’t pretend to know her, he tries to get to know her and sometimes it makes her sad that he doesn’t know things but at least he’s not pretending.
And more importantly he doesn’t pretend he knows anything about her dad and so when asks: Do you think he’d be proud of you?
She doesn’t feel angry and or awkward and actually she feel comfortable enough that she cries a little bit (probably the first time she’s cried in front of someone since her dad died) and says “I don’t know.”
She doesn’t know what she expects but when Worst Wolvie says (after a little while), “I think you do.”
It almost sounds like her dad and it only makes her cry more but not because she’s sad but because for the first time since her dad died she thinks he might be right and damn does it feel good to cry.
Worst Wolvie might not ever replace her dad but he doesn’t pretend to have known him and over time (because remember they’re going to live a long time) he might even get to know her well enough that she might not remember the difference between the two Logans. It would almost be like the universe giving them both a second chance at having a family. And she hasn’t decided if that’s sad or not yet but in time maybe she’ll have a dad to help her figure it out.
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Viktor is under some kind of influence, but at first glance it's hard to tell the exact nature of it.
But I believe its more simple than one would think.
The core is basically jingling keys in front of him and telling him to look at them.
But I believe its more simple than one would think.
The core is basically jingling keys in front of him and telling him to look at them.
Firstly, why is the sky hallucination sus? could it just be his own mind?
Her guiding him to her book and later showing up next to the shimmer addict could be explained as just his conscious.
However, he also woke up to her screams and it was her voice that guided him to the addicts, both things go beyond what could manifest only from his own perception of things.
Not only that, this is the exact place where he later cocoons himself again. So it's no accident he ended up here.
It's also good to note how Viktors saw her differently then how she was, he sees him as a more idolised version of herself, which is als a good indication that she is not real.
But then in act 2 she appeals completely harmless, she doesn't push him into anything, and it looks like she offers some sense of emotional support.
And that's the point, it's feeding into viktors weaknesses as a person, all it needs to do, is give him the illusion of company, and keep him in his head.
Viktor was always a loner, but he also seeked out second opinions and he was in fact very lonely and wished for company.
This is exactly what the core is giving him the illusion of. A second opinion and company.
By herself “sky” does not offer any new information to viktor, she is either stathing things he is already aware of, things viktor thinks she would say, or reassures him.
“She liked me, she would be concerned about me!”
“I remember telling her that once!”
“She was caring, she would be upset at someone's death!”
In fact, it might even try to distract him from the important things, we don't see a lot of it, but the moment Viktor starts to wonder what's up with Jayce, she attempts to move his thoughts elsewhere from thinking about what is wrong with him.
Viktors perception of the world is fundamentally changed, this is already pretty isolating but now he has a mind buddy! He's Not alone anymore, there's someone who talks to him, who cares about him, who he can share ideas with,
someone who loves him.
I'm going to concede, I do think their relationship has a romantic undertone, if for nothing else it's because viktors perception of sky is pretty heavily defined by her love letters to him.
Regardless of your reading (how much do you think he reciprocates that), it is giving him the company he wished for.
Why is that bad?
It's because it keeps him docile, and so far up his own 4ss that he doesn't realise how messed up what he is actually doing is. He is stuck with his own regurgitated thoughts.
The only thing he ever gets is reassurance that what he is doing is in fact good, he doesn't have an outside perspective on what's happening with him or around him.
He doesn't have the head space to self reflect cuz something always chimes in, always keeps him thinking, solving problems, solving puzzles.
We never once saw him actively trying to talk to any of his followers, the only people who he does are not affected by him, and come to him directly, he didn't even bother seeking out Jayce himself.
The only way he communicates with them is when he wants to do his creepy puppet thing and if the only thing left in his followers head is gratitude towards him and he never examines what it did to them as people, no wonder he doesn't notice a thing.
He just unquestionably spreads the core's influence.
No wonder the first awful idea anyone gave him in who knows how long that isn't his own stuck with him.
He always had a tendency to get sucked into his work and dont bother with people (ironically that is one of the reasons sky got dusted) and don't bother with anything else, and now the conditions are orchestrated for this to basically keep him in his own head.
He doesn't really care about his followers either, he watched one of them get smashed and didn't give a damn.
He doesn't care for them as people, they are more akin to problems he can solve and move on. He was barely even bothered about Jayce's condition, probably assuming he will come to him and he can fix him right away.
We can see this in his visions of how he conceptualizes himself, he looks very human, and yet he got these unsettling yellow eyes. He is blind to the ways he changed, just look at how he acts in them.
At first glance he appears a lot more emotive and it also tells us that he is fairly enjoying himself and his new perception of the world but also the main thing we see of him is his endless curiosity about things, not his empathy towards them.
He is well meaning of course, but he doesn't/cant reflect enough to see what he is really doing. Namely taking away the things he saw in these people, their dreams.
And he constantly has problems to solve, we saw how many people went to him, he always has something to think about, and he always has someone to talk to about it without needing to waste precious time on seeking out a second opinion.
In s1 he barely reacted to the beginning of a civil war going around him, now people depend on him and in the middle of a civil war he doesn't have any way of protecting these people.
He barely gives a damn about him slowly deteriorating. He doesn't live in reality anymore. He cannot see the forest for the trees. (though he might have had some plans we don't know of, since Salo was gathering materials for him.)
And his guilt just amplifies this.
From s1 one of his strongest traits was how much he believed if he gets the right tools, and the opportunity, he can help people.
“Do you think my life ambition is to be an assistant?”
“If you are going to change the world don't ask for permission.”
“All I did was believe in myself.”
This is what skys death puts into question.
This is why he almost jumped afterwards, this fundamental belief in himself was put into question. He got the chance to do what he wanted and someone died.
This is where his guilt comes into play, he isn't making his own dream a reality, we saw that what he really wanted is to give people tools that they can use to create, but that's not what he is doing.
He is doing what he believes Skye's dream was.
It doesn't even look like he invents things anymore, he just mostly uses his powers and studies botanics. (tho we saw Salo steal some stuff for him so he might have some plans that we don't know yet?)
This is even the context he brought her up to jayce: she had such dreams.
From her notes we can assume she hoped to help make a zaun that is cleaner and more connected to nature.
This is the reason why he is so receptive to skyes positive affirmation, its because in his head he is correcting his wrong, her affirmation and forgiveness gave him back the belief that he can still do good.
Now he has the right tools and the opportunity to do it, so he won't fail again.
He is literally wearing her symbol on his clothes.
He is doing this out of some kind of repentance for his sins.
So the way he sees it: he is helping these people, who on they own free will just happen to stay here cuz its nice and he conveniently can puppet them if needed, he doesn't question that cuz he never bothers to talk to them and skys happy and she talks to him so why bother when no one sees the world like he does.
What he doesn't realise is that he is pretty much meant to die there.
There's a reason why his palace was builded here, he literally got told to build it there. It was there so he could die and cocoon himself again.
When he first saw jayce and encountered the singularity, he was literally describing himself.
“self annihilating and replicating” That's him, this entity is connected to him, he is meant to die and be reborn over and over again. He might not completely embody it yet, but he is a product of it. (and he will probably gonna try to harness it, that's what the beginning of ep 6 set up.)
I don't think he expected jayce to shoot him, when he saw what he was going to do he looked pretty shocked, but he was intentionally kept docile by the core basically guaranteeing that even actually he will die out.
And then he had the audacity to conclude it must have happened cuz people just suck.
He tried nothing to prevent this and he is already out of options.
To his defense he was probably really lost in the sauce at this point.
This is also why he was making his following, he was supposed to draw power from them after he dies so he can be reborn again.
This also means that singed and ambessa are probably interfering with this process.
It would explain why he looks so wrong in the poster.
In conclusion, the core keeps Viktor in a mind state where he is docile enough not to question what's happening around him using his already existing flaws against him in order to spread itself.
One last thing I would like to add is that I don't think this will be his final transformation, I believe the final one will either happen at the top of the hex gate or at the bottom of it.
#arcane#viktor#arcane season 2#derpythoughts#jayce#league of legends#viktor arcane#jayvik#jayce arcane#arcane meta#arcane theory#if ya have any questions or want my take on something feel free to send an ask
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— Spoilers. Season 2, act 3 arcane. ⟡ ݁₊ .
First of all, Jinx is alive, and nobody can tell me different—end of story. I’ll post why after this (or before). Second, I CHEERED when Maddie, you know, because who does she think she is for real? Like, she actually had me heated.
Next up, I’m so happy Caitlyn and Vi are happy and safe and are living a sweet little life. It actually makes me so happy I could CRY. I can’t even explain it, but getting FREAKY in a jail cell? Oh, y’all are SLUTS—. Like, I had to click off to understand what I had just watched. I was literally in fricking shock, bro.
I’m also so sorry this is like thrown everywhere, but guys, I just am feeling so many emotions. I literally just finished this, so it’s raw emotions, like oh my god, the way Viktor and Jayce went out. They are literally so FRICKING GAY; like holy HECK! You homosexuals are so dramatic. Mel was so COOL this season; like I’m glad we got to see more of her being a Badass other than her just being a warrior's daughter. I think she deserved that title.
Arcane, the animation, to the art palettes, to the fricking characters, to the top and fricking bottom, holy heck, it was beautifully written. It was illustrated amazingly; it was gorgeous, it was heartbreaking, it was everything. This show deserves every award they could possibly earn. It was so beautiful, and I am just so honored to have even watched it.
Also, at the end, Caitlyn says something that gives off the vibe that’s like, “Our story is not over; this is just the beginning.” I have hope that they will continue Arcane, even if it’s a spinoff or a movie. I just think it’s not finished, and there are so many questions left unanswered, and they did that on purpose for only one reason, which is to somehow continue it. I pray they do because the storyline, the characters—it’s all so beautiful.
So I have HOPE! That we will somehow get a continuation very, very later lol okay ily thank you all for almost 1000 you guys are my babes. ALSO, COMMENT I WANNA HEARRRR ALL THE THEORIES AND ALL THE THOUGHTS!
— @juptology !! <3
#— ˚୨୧⋆。 eves journal#lesbian#wlw#arcane#arcane netflix#vi arcane#violet arcane#caitvi#arcane caitvi#arcane vi#vi smut#vi#vi and caitlyn#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#league of legends caitlyn#arcane jinx#jinx arcane#arcane series#arcane smut#arcane jayce#jayce x viktor#jayce league of legends#viktor arcane#viktor league of legends#mel arcane
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I wanted to answer this question: (it's only a speculation)
"How intense is Luo Binghe love for the original Shen jiu and why is he so damn fixitated him for is it his looks or personality lol ? I'v read so many fics of Shen yuan identity reveal with Luo binghe and the peaklords that always ended positively but do you think it'd be the same in the canonverse? Like if Shen yuan were to reveal he wasn't the original would they react positively or negatively?"
I think 1st thing he feel in love was SJ's looks
"Shang Qinghua: “What was your first impression of the other person?”
Luo Binghe continued to reminisce and lightly said: “An aloof and remote, distant and untouchable immortal.”
then he started to do anything to gain SJ's attention/favor... He befriended with SJ's favorite disciple NYY, even if she always got him in trouble, then after he was pushed down to the abyss he realized that SJ would never return his feelings so he decided to destroy him, meanwhile he started to cope with it and started to pretend that SJ was a scum villain who couldn't love anyone but himself (that's probably why he never seen SJ's memories even if he was able to do so) and when YQY died he and SJ's reaction finally shattered his illusions...
Well, in my opinion, you pretty much nailed it. Especially keeping in mind the original intentions of Airplane to write PIDW as a yaoi novel with SJ (SQQ) and LBH as a OTP.
P.S.: Apparently I better quote the text of SVSSS, chapter 81 to be precise, to avoid ignorant comments. There's a huge misunderstanding going on in the English-speaking segment, probably dew to an English translation of SVSSS. Some readers are mislead by two quotes, that they take as a contradictory, which in truth, they are NOT.
The first one is from a Chapter "The story begins". It is the last chapter of the novel, after this the extras start. And this particular chapter is a culmination: this is where the truth is reveled. Like in a detective story, where we finally find out, who the killer is. This meant to become a real "bomb", that makes a reader go WOOOW!!! And this is THE KEY for understanding the whole story: the plot and the characters, especially Luo Bing-mei (and Luo Bing-ge). And speaks about the intentions of the Airplane. (original scrapped outline(c))
The second quote on the other hand speaks of an EXISTING PIDW. (original outline(c))
The first quote, from the final chapter:
Shen Qingqiu looked him up and down. “You don’t look crushed at all after all this foolish messing around ended up completely changing your own novel.”
Shang Qinghua said, “You can’t say it like that ah. Maybe you think it’s just all foolish messing around that isn’t worth a damn, but for Bing-ge, your foolish messing around is probably the meaning of this entire world.”
... holy s***, Great God Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky was able to say something like that?!
Shen Qingqiu was terrified. “F***. You didn’t turn back into the original character, did you?”
Shang Qinghua said seriously, “Don’t be like that. I’m also a young person with literary ideals. Of course, I have my own reflections and emotions.”
Shen Qingqiu laughed coldly. “What literary ideals? How come all I saw in the original work was shameless fanservice?” Not to mention his hand speed that could produce ten thousand words a day, and the courage to even occasionally explode with twenty thousand. If he didn’t have such equipment, there was no way 《Proud Immortal Demon Way》 would have been able to hold out before it was serialized!
Shang Qinghua spread his hands. “You think that I always wrote shameless content that lacked any integrity from the very start? I’ve also written belles-lettres4 before, but they were all unpopular, so I had no choice but to go down a path that catered to the masses. It must be said that writing novels is a very lonely undertaking. Rather than writing a stallion male protagonist who’ll be stereotypical in the end, it’s more in line with my philosophy for writing to create the current Bing-ge━this kind of weirdo male protagonist whose character is a bit more complicated, has contradictions and conflicts, and has a rough destiny.”
Shen Qingqiu concluded, “So, your philosophy for writing is to write about gay guys?”
Shang Qinghua: “Do you look down upon gay male protagonists? Works of art and artists all like to create gay guys. Belles-lettres favors gays, do you know that?”
He waved his arms wildly and passionately. “Cucumber Bro, if the System hadn’t chosen you, this faithful die-hard reader, perhaps the plot wouldn’t have deviated so thoroughly, thoroughly to the point that it deviated all the way back to my original scrapped outline. Even though the me back in reality━who couldn’t endure the loneliness and was under financial pressure━chose to finish writing 《Proud Immortal Demon Way》 according to other people’s preferences and what they found cool... now, all thanks to you, essentially everything that I wanted to write has already unfolded in front of my eyes. Cucumber Bro!”
He patted Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders with deep sentiment and solemnity. “You... are the chosen one; as for my career, I have no more regrets!”
... why did it sound like the System and this world were both products of Shang Qinghua’s resentment over scrapping that outline and going with what was mainstream?
Shen Qingqiu, who shamefully became this kind of “chosen one”: “Who’s your faithful die-hard reader?”
Shang Qinghua waved his hand and one-sidedly declared his victory. “I’m not going to talk to you; you’re an anti-fan.”
Shen Qingqiu was about to say, “I’m only an anti, not a fan!” when he suddenly heard Shang Qinghua starting crooning something like, “Emotions are warm, kindness hard to bear, lips moving together, desires turning the evening to the next morning, never resting from dawn to dusk.” The crucial point was that melody, which sounded extremely familiar to the point that it made Shen Qingqiu’s hands and teeth itch. He pointed at him and said, “Shang Qinghua, what are you singing?”
Shang Qinghua continued to croon. “The warmth of emotions makes gratitude hard to bear. Lips to lips, locked in a kiss. Let this night linger ‘til tomorrow’s dawn. Day after day, night after night; never to end. Will tomorrow be another today? When ‘til Zheng Yang reaches its zenith? As Zheng Yang ascends, the voice of Autumn stirs. A sheathless Xiu Ya, a spurt of cold nectar. Tragic pleas amidst choked sobs, thus in vain; for he rises again5...”
Shen Qingqiu was in disbelief. “F*** you—why don’t you just try and sing another line?”
Shang Qinghua said, “Great Lord Shen, why aren’t you listening to what I’m saying? You must never go around casually f***ing people. Bing-ge will go crazy. I’m telling you, this Resentment of Chunshan is equivalent to Shi Ba Mo6. You two are the legendary national homos, do you understand? I have no problems with you shutting me up, but ultimately it’s useless. You can’t possibly make all the countless people in the world shut up...”
The second quote, from the extras: "
System: 【Basic accomplishment of《Proud Immortal Demon Way》’s original outline, slight deviation of romance plot, objective accomplished. Function to return to original world download complete. Activate return home sequence?】
Basic accomplishment of the original outline, that he agreed with, all the holes which needed to be filled were filled. But, this “slight deviation of romance plot” isn’t quite right. Bing-ge is gay no━how can you say this is a “slight deviation”? Ay okay, okay. In fact, in his original outline, Bing-ge didn’t have a romance plot; he was doomed to fade away, alone and unaging forever. If you insist on adding a plotline, that’s whatever, but he’s wasted this many words… you mean he can return to his original world?!?!"
The second quote is very poorly translated into English. What it actually means, is that Bing-ge does not have ANY SIGNIFICANT RELATIONSHIP, LOVE. Nothing to do with he amount of partners he fucks. And yes - the ending for the tyrant he became in PIDW is not happy in a slightest. This is how his relationship with the harem is described by the PIDW reader's forum in the novel:
"Airplane really doesn’t know how to write romance plotlines, best if he just doesn’t. I feel like Luo Binghe doesn’t have feelings for any of his wives, he just wants to use them. And I can’t see any of those women with real moving emotion for him. "
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Wild Life Mechanics
Hey guys, I was thinking about the Mechanics of Wild Life and the theory that the previous winners create the next game. The first thing I want to say is that while Cleo is a winner and we should respect the queen, it's clear that Wild Life wasn't created by her. While she is chaotic and loves to burn things, Wild Life is not a game she would make. She's pretty level-headed and only burns people's bases if they make her mad. She would not choose the next game to have random effects each session. Scar, on the other hand, is completely crazy and would have the games be so chaotic. Sure, Grian and the other Watchers are the ones who decide the game and how it functions, its clear that the winner has some input on how the game is created. Scar even mentioned in his first episode that he and others suggested ideas to implement into the game. He just wasn't sure if Grian put those ideas into use. It's just funny that the mechanics that Grian decided to use directly relate to Scar and the struggles he goes through. And I will be analyzing each Wild Card that we know of for now. (This will be outdated tomorrow since a new episode will come out. But I don't want the idea to disappear from my head, so I'm writing this now.)
The first session had the Shrink and Grow Wildcard and it relates to Scar's sensation of scale. While Scar is 6 ft tall and has known the feeling of being tall, for most of his time, he's in a wheelchair at around 4 ft tall and thus, he is also small. We saw that immediately with small Scar during Real life. Scar is both a tall man, and also small, just like session one's Wildcard where you can be both big or small. And for most of Scar's session, he tries to be in the middle. Just be his regular, Minecraft self, since he doesn't want to be reminded of relatity.
The second session was about having your food randomized and having to eat things like dirt and rocks. This relates to the fact that... well... Scar can't eat like a normal person anymore. Scar can only 'eat' through a tube and has to constantly make sure the food is mush. He also fantasizes about eating people. c!Scar is a cannibal and so when the watchers changed what he and the other lifers could eat, his brain couldn't handle that truth and just assumed they just couldn't eat. It was only thanks to Grian that he and his team managed to survive.
The third session was the snail and it was pretty simple what was happening. Scar had been tormented by the Snails in Hermitcraft and now they transferred over to the life series. The watchers made them into one-shotters because it would hurt Scar more since he's already not great at staying alive.
The fourth Session relates to the fact that Scar is pretty slow when making videos because of his illness. Scar starts off slow, but once he gets going, it's hard for him to stop. He mentioned tons of times that he tends to forget how long he should be on the computer and thus ends up being on a project for hours. Usually ending some episodes while it's like 1 in the morning for him.
And finally, session 5's gimmick was the Quizmaster, which relates to the fact that Scar is constantly reminiscing on the past. Mostly third life, double life, limited life, and secret life. Scar has been haunting people's posts and remembering the past. He got a good chunk of questions right. It was only the Last Life questions he didn't know completely since he was so sick during Last Life that he had to miss a session because of his real-world illness. Like he knew the horn Jimmy used in Double Life, but he couldn't remember the name because he's bad at remembering names.
Now, none of these gimmicks were meant to relate to Scar. After all, Grian created all the gimmicks. Its just funny how all of these gimmicks able to be connected to Scar. Grian truly is Scar's soulmate. Also, the fact that yellow and red names can kill dark green lives to get health back and has been compared to cannibalism is funny because I can connect this to Scar since c!Scar is a cannibal. He would totally implement the idea of adding some kind of cannibalism into the games. It is my headcannon that Scar was the one who had the random lives and life trade mechanic in Last Life while Grian put in the Boogeyman mechanic since Grian AND Scar both won Third Life. It's just a shame most people, including Scar, don't remember that Third Life was a double victory. So yeah. Scar is the only winner who won two games. Scott doesn't count because he didn't win Double life. He gave up the game to Pearl and she is the sole winner of Double life while Scott got second. Just wanted put idea up.
#winner's theory#goodtimeswithscar#wild life smp#wild life#grian#life series#gtwscar#gtws#desert duo
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Bravo to you for choosing not to let Rem be forgiven so easily. Honestly I've never been a big fan of Rem as a character, sometimes her endless pandering and obsession with subaru just really annoys me instead, and I've never understood people looking at her doing all that and then saying “Wow that's so hot I'm so jealous of Subaru!”
As for the ones who want her deeds to be easily forgiven by everyone, my personal guess is that they all only care about her body and the unheathy way she forces herself to act like the perfect waifu just for Subaru's sake, but subconsciously they can't stand the shit she did either, so they secretly want their favorite waifu to be a perfect being without flaws. But to me, isn't it essential to love a character and accept their flaws as well? They did wrong things, but there's no doubt THEY did them anyway, and that is part of what makes them who they are. Another thing is that forgiveness has to be earned, we're not cruel, coldhearted, or closeminded for not forgiving someone who hurts us. So I too agree with that anon who thinks WHDAA cast need to to beat some sense into Subaru on way too forgiving and tolerating the people who have hurt/killed him.
But now that you've decided to do that, beware of those rabid Rem stans coming after you and I'm worried that their harassment goes overboard and affects your personal life
I will say — I believe that Rem and Subaru’s canon dynamic is one of the most intriguing and multifaceted dynamics in the entire series. Their parallels regarding their insecurities and family members, their mutually codependent tendencies, the way they run the risk of becoming each other’s perfect enablers, the genuine sense of love and affection that runs parallel to the unintentional toxicity fostered within their relationship — it’s all really interesting stuff. In fact, exploring their dynamic through the lens of outsiders (including amnesiac!Rem) finally getting to peer under the hood is one of the main reasons I wanted to write a react fic at all.
As for why people like her — honestly, I think it’s kinda easy to guess? She’s a very cutely designed anime girl, she’s incredibly well-voiced, her insecurities are genuinely relatable, she’s got a super awesome oni power-up transformation, her morning star lends itself to some of the best choreographed action scenes in the series (or at least Season 1), she appeals to the whole “submissive maid” aesthetic that she knows Subaru finds attractive (and that also appeals to the target demographic of Re:Zero specifically, let’s be real here) — and frankly, there are so many scenes in anime where characters we’re supposed to like do fucked up shit that it’s not difficult to just…gloss over the whole “tortured the mc for several hours” part of her character. It’s understandable, especially if you’re not an insane person who spends all their time hyperanalyzing the anime they’re a fan of like I am. I don’t think it’s really that far of a leap for her to develop such a massive following, she was basically designed to be as popular an anime waifu as physically possible.
But then, that clash can become…a little uncomfortable if you’re writing a story where “Rem tortures Subaru” is a major plotpoint, and if you don’t want to reevaluate their entire relationship, it makes sense to find a way to just — get the characters to move along, much like a lot of the irl audience does.
But I really like toxic characters and angst and complicated relationships and all that fun stuff, so that’s what I’m gonna focus on. —Also Rem is WORSE in the LN. Girl starts fantasizing about whisking Subaru away while he’s practically comatose from shock (second Arc 3 loop) and then also makes a comment like “even if he had tried to assault her in her sleep, she knew she never would have resisted” like GIRL??? The idea of not tapping that insane well of potential drama is ludicrous to me lmaoo— especially because I really don’t care about maintaining the status quo ;)
(Also frankly, anyone who would start seriously harassing me over whether or not I share their opinion about a fucking anime girl is too pathetic for me to care about. I honestly don’t think I’ll get that big of a response — especially not on Tumblr “Gay Website” Dot Com — but even if I do…I don’t care, lmao.)
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Glad to hear the tête-à-tête with Ted went as expected 😂
Let's dive into this wonderful comment! 🤍
Seeing a glimpse of their growing friendship in the first flashback scene was somehow both sweet and bittersweet, but of course, there’s also that hint of “more” on Beau’s side that he’s desperately trying to hide. 😅
Definitely bittersweet 😭 Makes you really feel for Beau. What an incredibly tough situation to be in, honestly 💔
Loll not the dad voice! So sweet that he tried to “cut her off,” even though he ultimately wasn’t successful. Always more shit hitting the fan, isn’t there? 😬
Yup, and they both know it. They've picked a very hard job 😅 But it's hard to resist the dad voice! But there's understanding on both sides. Beau, for sure, knows what it's like to be obsessed with a case 🙈
That’s what makes their situation all the harder – the fact that she’s in law enforcement as well and understands this aspect of things all too well. 😰 It’s truly amazing that she and Beau were able to get past this hurdle and actually fall in love. It shows how forgiving she is, I think.
Yes, this 💯 And I definitely see her as forgiving. She knows who the real enemy is, and it ain't Beau. She knows even good people can make mistakes. Part of the job. Tragic, but it happens 🤷♀️ Plus, I think considering her own hidden feelings for him, she had an easier time seeing past all that.
HELP. I’m deceased. 🤣🤣🤣 I was smirking/laughing throughout this entire exchange, but this in particular took me out! Ted has nothing but audacity. But at least the reader had Beau’s back on this one. 😆
Glad that exchange made you laugh! I honeslty love writing those ridiculous scenes. This one reminded me somewhat of Ben vs. Colt in Rehab 😂
I imagine Ted as some stuck-up, somewhat bougeois prosecutor that both Beau and Randy talked a lot of shit about behind his back. So Beau's not only offended she dated him for himself, but probably for Randy too 🤣
Ahh, nice that they had this heart to heart, and also this revelation. But while of course that really does nothing to soothe Beau’s guilt, at least it allows her to forgive him.
I saw this mostly as an attempt to soothe Beau's guilt. You can tell she was still a bit judgmental in her thoughts à la "Well, I, the genius, wouldn't have done it/seen right through it, but oh well, guess not everyone can be me..." 😅
Eventually, she forgave him either way because she knows the risks and dangers of the job and that not every decision you make will be the right one in the end
LMAO Oh Beau. You’re right, it is funny to imagine him saying “slimy coyote.” 😂 Bet this is what he wishes would happen to Ted:
Oh, he for sure wanted to Wile E. Coyote Ted 🤣🤣
Oooh what a declaration that is from her! The fact that Beau’s the best she’s ever had, even including Randy, I’m assuming. 😅
Well, there's two options lol, right? Either she only said it to make him feel better, knowing his insecurities. Or, it's fully true and she decided to go for it. I honestly think it's the second. Beau seems to match her energy a bit better than Randy probably did 😂🔥
And Beau, sweet Beau, that was a beautiful rom-com worthy line right there. 💗
Ikr? Imagine Carla hearing that! She'd be livid 😂😂 But I enjoyed playing with the lines there of "first loves" vs. "true loves"
Ooh shit, Diane is certainly up to something. 😬😬
Oh boy, we all should be concerned! She might have some (deathly) surprises up her sleeve... 👀
Polaris – Chapter 7
Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.
Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader
Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, mentions of cartels, grief, smut
Word Count: 7.2k
A/N: The chapter where we find out why Ted is on Beau's punch list aka The One With Ted... 😂
Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List
Chapter 7: Storm Coming
May 2021
“I sold the house,” you said, your voice ripping through the quiet of the car during another starry stake-out night.
“So you’re homeless now?” Beau joked and peeled his eyes away from the front window view and glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the steering wheel, the other one in his lap.
You chuckled. “Yup, but I got a hot plate now in my motel room and one of those Italian moka pots. So, you know, some would say I’m living the dream.”
Beau snorted in amusement before he pensively rubbed his mouth with two fingers. “You didn’t have to sell the house, you know?”
You heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda did, though… I didn’t like staying in there anymore. It’s just… too many memories, I guess? ‘Sides, I’m always down here anyways. Actually considering moving here.”
Beau frowned at you, his nose scrunching. “What, to Mexico? Are you nuts? Over my dead body are you doin’ that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a say in it,” you retorted rather playfully and put a shocked palm on your chest in mock.
“Damn right, I do,” Beau scoffed his reply with a teasing grin. “Who do you think is lookin’ out for ya, huh?”
“Wait, you think you are? That’s what you believe?” You snorted a laugh, entering banter territory with him.
It was usually how you passed your time during most of these stake-outs – laughing, teasing, and the occasional talking about your problems. You’d never known Beau like this before. He was your husband’s best friend, but he had been more of an acquaintance to you. Now, after months of spending close to every day together, it felt like he was your best friend. Since Randy’s death, he’d been there for you, even if it was mostly out of guilt.
“Yeah, what d’you think?” Beau countered challengingly.
“Oh sweetie, you’re not looking after me. I’m looking after you,” you stated confidently. The smile that twitched on his lips seemed to actually agree with you. “Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.”
“Are you calling me a girl?”
You coolly shrugged your shoulders. “Either I’m calling you a girl, or I’m calling you gay. I’ll let you pick.”
Laughingly, Beau scoffed and muttered, “You wish I was gay.”
However, you still heard his mumbled reply and responded, “Actually, I wish you were a girl and that I was gay.”
Beau stared at you and leaned back against the door for a better view of you, his brow raised and the corners of his lips drawn slightly upwards in amusement. “What are we even talking about?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shake of your head.
The two of you then burst into loud laughter that filled the entire SUV. For a moment, all your sorrows and hardships seemed to be forgotten, carried away to the desert with the nightly breeze. Then, the familiar and comfortable quiet took over the car again.
“I’m moving out of the house, too,” Beau said, his eyes focusing on the barren landscape and desolate road ahead. “I’m giving it to Carla. I mean, she didn’t ask me to. God knows she can take care of herself… But I want Emily to keep living in the home she grew up in, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that. That’s really nice,” you said quietly. Your soft smile then morphed to a grin. “So you’re homeless, too, huh?”
Beau laughed, throwing his head back into the seat. “Yeah, guess I am. Maybe we should live together?” he suggested half-jokingly.
“Like roommates? Ugh, God no!” You scoffed in abhorrence. “We’re way too old for that. You’re over forty, I’m barely in my thirties–”
“You do know I know exactly how old you really are, right?” Beau teased.
You decided to ignore that jab and continued, unbothered. “It would be seriously so sad. The Widow And The Divorcee – sounds like the worst sitcom on the planet. ‘Sides, it’d be super awkward if one of us starts dating again.”
“Fine, maybe you’re right,” Beau relented with a soft chuckle and then glanced at you sideways. His heart gained speed in his chest. “You ever think about it? Dating? Gettin’ out there again? Been nine months.”
You twitched your shoulders, choosing not to look at him. “I don’t know. Is nine months long enough after your husband died?”
Thoughtfully, Beau licked his lips and let out a small sigh. “I don’t think there’s a timeline, or a right and wrong. I just think it’s one of those things that when you’re ready, you’re ready.”
“Well, consider me not ready then, I guess,” you replied honestly.
“Alright,” Beau accepted, bobbing his head. “But I still think you should try again at some point, you know? You shouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life. First of all, it’d be a total waste, ‘cause, I mean, look at you. And secondly, you’re barely in your thirties, after all,” he repeated your earlier joke with a soft grin.
You felt the heat creep to your cheeks in the moonlight. As you looked at him, you could see his smirk, making you laugh. “Noted,” you replied and were thankful for his pep talk. “I mean, there’ve been offers.”
Beau quirked one eyebrow, a hard lump forming in his throat as his chest tightened. “Offers? Like plural? Who?”
“Well, just some of the guys from our team. Cody, Jordan, Ted…” you named a few. “Also a few locals. Remember those guys we played pool with a few weeks ago? Two of ‘em asked for my number.”
“Huh. That is plural…” Beau pursed his lips and couldn’t keep his brow from wrinkling, his grip on the steering wheel stiffening. “Well, you know, when you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Shouldn’t force anything. No rush, darlin’.”
Smooth, Beau thought wryly with an internal sigh.
“Right, I know,” you agreed. “I do miss sex, though. Getting kinda bored of my vibrator.”
Beau choked on his spit. “Jesus…”
“What? Am I not allowed to talk about it? I thought we were friends. You’re supposed to care about my well-being and happiness,” you argued, frowning.
“I do care. Just… Can we please not talk about that?” he begged and exhaled a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his freckled nose.
“Fine. I miss having women around…” You shrugged and muttered, “Didn’t peg you for a prude.”
“Okay, let’s just get one thing straight – I’m not a prude,” he clarified in defense, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.
“Alright, also noted,” you quipped, smirking to yourself. Sometimes you enjoyed making him a little uncomfortable. His blushed cheeks could be quite cute. “What about you? Have you still not talked to Carla? I’m sure you can win her back if you tried. You’re a lot better now.”
“Well, thank you for the, uh, vote of confidence, but it’s really over, I guess. We just talked about all the divorce proceedings last time. I actually think she started datin’ someone recently,” Beau told you.
Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Who?”
“I guess some rich tech guy. I don’t know…”
“And you’re good with that?” you questioned in disbelief.
Beau scoffed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Ha, no… But what am I gonna do? Kinda shot myself in the leg with that one. I don’t blame her for moving on. It’s been over for months now.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry. I was kinda rooting for you two,” you admitted.
“Well, thanks, but we weren’t you and Randy,” Beau said. It made your brow knit.
“What d’you mean?”
“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Beau replied as if it were obvious, but you still shook your head. He sighed. “You and Randy would’ve never gotten divorced.”
“You don’t know that.” Honestly, you doubted it yourself, but you were too curious to find out what he meant by his statement.
“I do know that,” Beau insisted with certainty. “You guys had that once-in-a-lifetime kinda love. The kind that made other people jealous, you know? Your love made every other relationship pale in comparison. I always figured once the honeymoon phase was over, you’d settle and be less vomit-inducing, but that never happened. Me and Carla were never like that. Not even in the beginning,” he explained, a small, soft smile shaping his mouth. “You guys were special. True love. The stuff folk singers write cheesy songs about.”
“I guess we were,” you mused quietly, the memory of everything Randy was to you causing tears to well in your eyes.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” Beau apologized as soon as he noticed the sadness on your face. He reached his hand over to your side and squeezed your thigh gently, just above the knee.
“No, it’s alright,” you brushed him off, swallowing your heartache down. “But hey, if Carla wasn’t your once-in-a-lifetime, maybe she’s still out there. You just haven’t found her yet. I mean, that’s kinda a nice outlook, right?”
Licking his lips, he bobbed his head, his gaze focused on his hand on the steering wheel. “I doubt it.”
“Why? Never say never,” you said encouragingly.
“Well, maybe I already met her, and it’s too late now,” he replied. It sounded more like an actual fact than a hypothetical theory. You found yourself wondering.
“What, did you have like an old college flame? The one that got away?” you teased lightheartedly, but he only grew more serious.
“Somethin’ like that,” he replied vaguely, rubbing his mouth with his fingers.
“Look her up on Facebook. Maybe she’s divorced, too. You could reconnect or something,” you suggested. He nodded but didn’t seem too convinced. You then shot him a hesitant glance from your periphery. “So, now that Carla’s moving on, are you gonna start dating now, too? Jump back into the game?”
“I guess so… Why?” A part of him was curious to hear your response, while another part reminded him that his desired answer was only wishful thinking – and completely insane on top of that.
“That fiery brunette lady at the bar last night seemed really interested in you. Maybe you should hook up with her if she’s there again tomorrow night?” you proposed in earnest.
Wide-eyed, Beau blinked at you in incredulity – like you had lost your goddamn mind. “I’m sorry, what?! Hook up? Who are you right now? Are you tryin’ to set me up?”
“Yeah.” You shrugged simply, not seeing what the big problem was. “Don’t look at me like I’m trying to convince you to get a tramp stamp above your ass with a dirty needle. I’m just trying to be a good wingman… woman. Randy would’ve tried to set you up, right?”
Beau sighed frustratedly. “Yeah, he would’ve,” he admitted in a grumble and then barked, slightly more furious, “But you ain’t him. And I don’t want you to be, so stop it, alright?”
“Geez, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help,” you mumbled defensively and raised your hands in surrender, unsuccessfully hiding your upset over his reaction. He felt guilty when he saw the small pout on your face.
Beau rubbed his forehead before dragging his palm over the rest of his face. “I know. I’m sorry, too,” he said and let out a deep breath through his nose. “I just-… I guess I’m just waiting, okay?”
“Waiting for what?”
Beau squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. For you to be ready, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t very well do that now, could he?
“For Christ’s sake, Y/N…” he breathed exhaustively. That was all he managed to say. With his palm on his mouth, he rested his elbow against the car door, gazing out the window.
“Why are you so upset?” you asked, your brow woven with confusion.
“Switch subjects,” he requested.
It was a phrase the two of you used whenever you didn’t want to talk about something anymore. When someone pushed too much, or the topic got too emotional and you needed a break. The only rule was to always respect the request, so you had no choice but to let it go after that.
“The Texans game sucked last night, huh?”
That elicited a snort from him, and he looked at you with a warm smile. “Yeah, goddamn awful.”
“How many times are you gonna watch those?”
Beau’s question broke your concentration. Your gaze snapped from your laptop screen to his concerned face. You’d been rewatching the victims’ videos for four days straight now, trying to find more clues. Maybe even something that directly led to Diane.
“I keep thinking maybe I’ve missed something,” you mumbled and stared back into the computer, your teeth gnawing on the pen between your lips. “It’s 48 hours each. We have twenty-four victims. I keep watching them sped-up to get through them all, but maybe I should slow ‘em down. I mean, I’ve watched them full-length, normal speed a couple of times before, but maybe I should watch ‘em even slower and really focus, you know? There’s gotta be something there…”
Bobbing his head worriedly, Beau pursed his lips and took a scan of your desk. He counted eight empty cups of coffee and five cans of energy drinks. There were bags under your red eyes and your hands were jittering. He knew you hadn’t slept a lot. He tried to hold you in his arms, but as soon as he dozed off, you snuck out and went back to work.
Beau shut the laptop. “You’re cut off.”
“Hey!”
“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.
“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.
“I need that woman in prison, Beau.”
“You startin’ to sound like Jenny…” Beau quipped under his breath.
“We’re running out of time. There’s only one day left before the next victim drops,” you stated and tried your best to keep your voice steady as it broke off towards the end.
“I know.” Beau clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. “And we’ll get her. I promise you. But you’re no good to any of us if you’re exhausted and losing it right now.” You nodded and rose from your chair. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “How about some dinner, huh?”
You grinned warmly. “What, like a second date?”
“Exactly like a second date,” Beau said and mirrored your grin. He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.
Your phone buzzed on the table, your brow quirking at the number. Eagerly, you picked up and wound yourself out of Beau’s embrace. “Special Agent Y/L/N… Uh-huh… Great, thank you.”
Beau pursed his lips. “We’re not going out, are we?”
“‘fraid not, Sheriff.” You shook your head and chuckled at his groan. “That was IT. They’re finally done and sending over the IP addresses.”
“Alright, guess I’m gettin’ take out,” Beau announced with a small sigh, knowing the two of you were in for a long night – and not the one he had planned.
You smiled and pecked his lips. “Thank you.”
August 2020
Beau’s heart thudded frantically in his chest as his knuckles tapped your front door in the early evening. The sky was a color spectacle full of azures, indigos, and apricots as the summer sun slowly set. His boots only stood on that same spot not even twenty-four hours ago. It still felt like a surreal nightmare he couldn’t escape, his hope to wake up soon a ceaseless prayer.
He’d stayed with you all night, held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Beau awoke on your couch with your head resting on his thigh and a strange feeling in his gut. He couldn’t help but think you were beautiful, even in a state of utter turmoil, shoving said thought swiftly down into the depths of his darkening soul.
But he’d spent all day thinking of you, plagued by guilt and torn by misplaced feelings. He’d sat through hours of interviews, going over and over the events of last night till his mind spun like a hamster wheel. He was forced to fill out forms, sign documents, and recount each unforgettable step. He’d listened to lectures, sermons, and admonitions. His captain gave him a tongue-lashing that sounded like mere white noise before he was sent home with a suspension – investigation pending.
Only he didn’t go home; he came here.
At home, his wife and daughter were waiting – for a husband, a father, an explanation. None of which he could provide. Beau wanted to wallow in his grief, his guilt, his loss in peace. He lacked the strength to be strong, play pretend, and act above it all. He wanted to be punished, sent to perdition, and held accountable for his lapse of judgment. A suspension wasn’t good enough. It barely patched the abysmal gaps in his heart.
The only suitable punishment was you. Witnessing your suffering was his personally crafted hell. You were the broken remnants of his destruction, the shattered pieces of his idiocy, the explosive fallout of his arrogance.
And you hadn’t answered a single call or text of his. His torturous worry was part of his penalty.
Consecutive rings of the doorbell and incessant knocks remained unanswered. For a moment, Beau rested his forehead on the door. He felt helpless and clueless all the same. You had friends and family to take care of you, probably better suited and closer to you than him, but somehow he felt burdened with the responsibility.
He took the spare key out of the left-side planter and barged inside. The ground floor was deserted. Last night’s uneaten dinner still sat untouched on the table. It felt like a whiplash against his bare back.
Bolting upstairs, he found the door to the main bedroom ajar. He pried it open slowly, the sight of you delivering his second lashing. This time, he felt the sting burning through to his heart.
He found you curled up in bed, on your husband’s side, in your husband’s t-shirt, with your wedding photo album clutched tightly in your arms. His breath halted for a moment; his heart did, too.
Did he do this? Was this all his fault?
“Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet and careful as he spoke. Slowly, he walked over to your side and knelt down in front of you. “Darlin’, hey… You need to get up. Eat somethin’.”
Beau was sure you hadn’t moved all day. He didn’t ask you if you were alright or how you were doing. The question seemed insulting. The answer was obvious. Your phone was lighting up on the nightstand with a million unanswered calls and messages, his own among them. Your beautiful eyes were vacant, red, and empty. You didn’t cry, however, not anymore. You were dehydrated and all out of tears at this point. You never looked at him, not even a glance.
“I want him back,” you whispered, your voice coarse from screaming, crying, cursing.
Beau nodded, licking his lips. Caringly, he caressed your head, brushing a few strands of messy hair out of your face. “I know. I hope you know I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat if I could.”
For the first time your eyes found his. Your gaze was scathing and piercing. “Tell me what happened.”
Beau let out a harrowing sigh. He had rehashed the story all day long. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again, but maybe this version was the most important one. Who deserved the truth more than you?
“Y/N, I don’t think this is such a good idea, darlin’,” Beau tried to reason, mostly for himself. He wanted to hold on a little longer, the idea of you hating him tearing him apart. He wanted to spare himself the additional guilt, the anger, the hurt.
“Tell me or leave.”
Beau closed his eyes and nodded hesitantly. “Okay, alright.” He took a deep breath and settled down on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden bedside table. “We were closing in on that biker gang. Few murders, arms trafficking, drug deals… You know the drill. I’m sure Ra-… he filled you in.”
Not that long ago, Randy had asked you for advise on the case. You gave him your contacts in the DEA and a number to a CI.
“Your DEA guy warned us. Said the gang was working closely with the cartel down in Juárez. But I had my own intel that only a few members were meeting at the Hatcher warehouse in MacGregor. It was supposed to be a small deal. But I figured it could lead to bigger things if we shook ‘em down, you know? But fuckin’ Harper told us no like usual. Refused to give us back-up. Said to pass the case on to the DEA. But Randy and I worked our asses off the last few months to get even this far. We were so close. I didn’t wanna let go… So, I suggested we go in anyways. It was supposed to be only three guys from the gang. I knew if we were smart about it, we could easily take ‘em down, you know?”
You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on the bed. Shaking your head, you chuckled humorlessly and grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle from the nightstand. “‘Course you did. It’s not the first time you broke a rule or shit on authority.”
“Yeah, and I was right every single time,” Beau bit. His anger wasn’t geared at you but at himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He flew too close to the sun and got burned. But he still felt the need to defend himself, even if it was unjustified.
His gaze drifted to the dresser and the patch of wall above it, decorated with photographic evidence of yours and his partner’s life together. The wedding, dates, vacations, holidays – it was all there. Beau had watched it all, start to finish. He wished he could rewind the tape and cut off the ending, all so you could have the love of your life back. He didn’t know yet your cassette had a B-side. One that featured him.
“You got fucking lucky, is all,” you scoffed.
“Randy backed me up on it!”
“Of course he did! You’re his fucking partner! He would’ve followed you anywhere if you asked him to,” you snapped, shaking your head. You gulped down some whiskey then and locked your jaw before you met his eyes again with a glare. “And? What happened then, Beau? Was it only three guys?”
“No.” The word was almost inaudible. He shook his head with a harsh swallow. “They were meetin’ with a few cartel members there. My intel never said anything about that. When we were inside and saw what was really going on, it was already too late to get out. They made us, bullets started flyin’… They got a hold of Randy and… shot him.” A tear escaped down his cheek, his throat closing as he tried to choke out the last bit of the story. “I had to leave him there. I barely got out myself. I’m sorry, Y/N. I know this is on me.”
Your lips twitched with a bitter smile. You didn’t look at him, just rubbed your tired eyes. “Damn right it is. Get out.”
“Y/N, please–”
The storm in your eyes made him stop as you met his gaze, his useless apologies becoming stuck in his throat. “I said, get out. I ain’t asking a third time. You’re the reason my husband is dead. You’re the reason I don’t even have a body to bury. So, get the fuck out.” Like a snakebite, your words were targeted, sharp, and venomous.
You finally got out of bed and prodded towards the en-suite bathroom. The truth had been what you needed to switch the fighter inside of you back on. You knew what you wanted to do then and were determined to get it.
“Y/N–”
“Do you know what cartels do to bodies, Beau? To rivals? To law enforcement? ‘Cause I just came back from a job where we found forty-eight decapitated bodies, left to rot inside the walls of a house. Still haven’t found the heads yet. Probably never will,” you told him and stared him dead into his dark green eyes. “Ever seen that before, desperado?”
Beau bit his lips, averting his gaze. “No.”
“Yeah, didn’t think so.” You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “Now, leave. Please. Get the fuck outta my house. I don’t wanna see you anymore,” you spat and slammed the bathroom door shut behind you.
Beau then grabbed the whiskey bottle you’d left and walked out of your home. It was the first of many nights he started to drink himself to sleep, but at least it kept the nightmares temporarily at bay.
“Theodore.” Beau forced a bright smile onto his freckle-dusted face, although the stiff features could barely fool anyone. At least, they wouldn’t have fooled you.
“Beau, good to see you again.” Ted smiled and did a more convincing job of it as he waltzed into Lewis and Clark County’s Sheriff’s Department. It almost seemed like he meant it. “I was surprised when Y/N told me you got a gig as a sheriff here.”
Translation: I was surprised because you were such a fuck-up back in Texas.
Beau feigned a chuckle. “Yeah, I bet you were.”
“Hopefully, you’re givin’ the DAs here less headaches,” Ted jabbed under the disguise of friendly banter. He then turned to Jenny with that same shit-eating grin. “Your sheriff is a little troublemaker.”
Sweet Lord, Beau wanted to whack the bastard.
The blonde deputy coolly brushed the accusation off. She shrugged and playfully nudged Beau’s arm, sending the Texan attorney a smile. “I prefer him that way.”
“Hey, there she is!” Beau smiled with frazzled relief when you finally hurried into the station. A little while longer, and he definitely would’ve thrown a punch.
“Hey, Ted. Thanks for coming. How was your flight?” You greeted him with a warm smile and a quick hug.
“Good, good. Never been to Montana before,” Ted said and then let his eyes wander up and down your body. “Look at you. You look great!”
“Oh, uh, thanks.” You subtly cleared your throat. You could physically feel Beau stiffen next to you. In your periphery, you could spy a tightly clenched jaw and a few strained muscles in his neck.
“Mind if Y/N and I borrow your office, Sheriff Arlen?” Ted asked and emphasized his title. “Considering the nature of this case, I’d like to keep it as private as possible. Don’t want anything to reach Ms. Newton’s ears.”
Your hunch had been right. Several IP addresses pointed to Diane, some to public Wi-Fi’s. You and the team still needed to connect her to the other states and find out where she’d been staying there, but you could definitely trace some posts in recent weeks to her home in Montana. It was enough for an arrest warrant, but you still needed more evidence.
Additionally, it had all come together a little too easily. It seemed like a giant trap you were walking into. Diane wanted to be caught. But why?
“Why don’t I just join you? I’m sure Y/N here doesn’t mind,” Beau suggested with a tight smile and then snaked his arm around your middle, pulling you closer. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”
Internally, you sighed a little at his obvious territorial pissing, but you were willing to throw him a bone. You stretched up and claimed his plump lips in a fervent kiss that Beau only all too happily reciprocated.
“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” you replied with a dirty smirk at the double entendre.
As Beau looked down at you, he mouthed ‘God, I love you.’ You grinned in response.
“Happy to give it to you,” he said with another sweet peck of your lips. A triumphant and slightly cocky grin graced his lips as he looked back at Ted.
“Oh, so you two are back together?” Ted realized, his brow rising to his hairline. He’d never seen you two together but certainly had heard the whispers down in Mexico from your old task force. He’d been the DA for those cases as well. You’d never explicitly told him about you and Beau, though, even when he had tried to pry a little on those dates you went on.
“Well, I’m a hard one to quit,” Beau quipped almost proudly, like a peacock showing off his fan of feathers.
“As are cigarettes and many other vices,” Ted shot back with the same stupidly proud grin.
Translation: You’re an ass. And a failure. She deserves so much better. I’m ‘better.’ But maybe that didn't need a translation.
Beau should’ve known it was hard to out-argue a lawyer and ground his jaw. After all, he’d been married to one for many years.
You, on the other hand, shared a wide-eyed and baffled look with Jenny that bordered on amusement. You had almost gasped in shock. You hadn’t expected such a fiery reply, sure the men would stick to their Southern manners. But, oh well, everyone’s packing in fucking Texas…
“Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll join you in a minute,” you ordered more than you earnestly proposed and shooed the two men down the hallway towards Beau’s office.
“Sure it’s such a good idea to lock those two in a room alone?” Jenny teased, her eyes lingering a little too long on Ted’s perfectly formed ass as he sauntered down the hall.
You couldn’t blame her. You had checked out Beau’s in the same breath.
“It’s only for a short time. They’re not gonna kill each other,” you laughed it off. Jenny arched a doubtful eyebrow at you. “That quickly,” you added a correction. “So, what did I miss here?” you asked and nodded towards the two men, closing the door to Beau’s office behind them. All you heard last was them talking about the recent Texans game.
Ugh, of course, they’d end up by football…
“Dick measuring contest,” Jenny supplied wryly.
“Ah, figured…”
“Well, better them than to lock Agent Y/L/N and the sheriff into the same room,” Poppernak joked with a soft chuckle as he appeared next to you and Jenny, chiming into the conversation.
You gaped at him in mock-shock. “Mo! I can’t believe you just said that,” you chided playfully.
His cheeks turned crimson red. “I’m sorry, Special Agent Y/L/N,” he apologized in a fluster.
“Mo, I told you to call me by my first name,” you reminded him with a smile. “Or I’m gonna have to start giving you silly names like Beau does.”
“Oh, I love Sheriff Arlen’s nicknames,” he quickly defended with a nervous laugh.
“Do you?” Jenny tilted her head with a questioning eyebrow.
He shrugged. “They’re clever.”
August 2020
“Old Fashioned,” you ordered with a look at the bartender, feeling Beau’s confused eyes and crinkled brow wander up to you. “Couldn’t have picked a nicer bar, huh? This place is a dump. You know that, right?”
Beau clicked his tongue and took a sip from his Ranch Water. “What are you doing here? Thought you never wanted to see me again.”
You let out a small sigh but didn’t meet his gaze. “Carla called me. Your family is worried about you.”
“I didn’t tell her where I was. How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t. Carla said you haven’t been home in three days. Figured you’d gone on a bender. This is the fifth cop bar I checked out. Finally got lucky,” you said and thanked the bartender as he placed his drink in front of you. You settled down on a barstool next to Beau.
“Quite the effort. Sure I’m worth it?”
Your tongue swept over your lips. “Beau, look at me.” His forest-green eyes found yours upon your soft plea. “I’m sorry I put all that shit on you. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault, okay? His death isn’t on you. I know you loved him like a brother.”
“I did.” Beau took another sip of his drink. “But it is my fault. I was reckless and arrogant. We both know it.”
“It was a set-up, alright? I talked to my DEA contact. Cody said your intel was wrong. They knew you and Randy were closing in on them. They wanted to get rid of you,” you explained.
Beau smacked his lips. “I still shoulda known better. I should’ve seen it was a trap.”
“Maybe,” you admitted. You couldn’t say you would’ve done the same thing, but you knew Beau would’ve never purposely put Randy in danger if he had even the faintest idea. “But it could’ve happened to anybody. This was bigger than you knew.”
“It wouldn’t have happened to you,” he stated quietly. You couldn’t argue with that. You were more by-the-book than he was. You would’ve never gone against a superior’s order. You would’ve respected it.
“Look, just go home. Talk to your wife. Get some help,” you said. “You missed your suspension hearing, but I spoke on your behalf. Told them it wasn’t your fault. The DEA backed me. Harper’s gonna reinstate you. Just come back as soon as you’re ready.”
Beau nodded slowly. Even if he didn’t say it, you could tell he was thankful for your efforts. “I can’t go home.”
Your brow furrowed. “Why? I’m sure Carla will understand. You need to talk to someone about this. Go to therapy – and not the alcoholic kind. Losing a partner is not something you get over quickly. You need people in your corner, including your wife.”
“You mean the wife that lets criminals out on the street?” Beau’s gaze was focused on the glass in his hands. The wrinkles on your brow deepened. “The guy that shot him… Carla’s his defense attorney. Was, at least. He was supposed to do time, but two months ago, she got him paroled.” With a dark chuckle, he emptied his glass.
“Beau…” You knew he had always struggled with Carla’s job, making you sometimes wonder about their dinner conversations at home. “It ain’t her fault more than it is yours. She’s just doing her job. You know that. You’ve been together for so long, you’d think you’re used to it by now.”
Beau scoffed a chuckle and gestured to the bartender for a refill. “I was a young cop back then. Wasn’t on the job as long. I didn’t know it would bother me so much. Still lived in that hopeful bubble, I guess.”
You smiled knowingly. “You mean the ‘I didn’t think I’d see as much shit and injustice as I do now’ bubble?”
He snickered softly. “Yep, that one. Just didn’t think it’d be this hard, you know?”
“I get it. I mean, me and Carla butt heads all the time over this stuff. But we do it in a competitive fun way and then get drunk,” you said with a light chuckle. “Guess it’s different when you’re married, though, huh?”
“Yeah, it is…” he sighed.
“Still, go home. Talk to her,” you encouraged but could see your words of wisdom fell on deaf ears. “By the way, the funeral’s on Saturday.”
He turned his gaze away from his glass and found your eyes. “You need any help with that?”
“Maybe you can give a eulogy. You knew him best. I think he would’ve really liked that,” you said with a warm smile. No matter your own feelings, you knew deep down Randy would’ve wanted you to forgive his partner.
“Yeah, I can do that. Anything you need, okay?” Beau clasped your hand that laid on the bar counter and squeezed reassuringly before dropping it again.
You smiled appreciatively and teased, “Maybe show up sober. Or at least close-to.”
Beau chuckled a little. “I promise.”
You stood up from your seat then and put some cash for your drink on the counter. “Alright, I’m heading home. You need me to call you a cab?”
“Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna finish this drink, then I’ll head out, too,” he said.
“You sure? Don’t make me come back here,” you threatened playfully.
Beau laughed softly. “I won’t. Thanks for everything, Y/N. I mean it.”
You sent him a smile and gave his shoulder a squeeze on your way out. “You’re welcome. Get home safe, okay?”
However, Beau couldn’t keep any of his promises. He made it home after three more drinks and woke up on the front lawn of his house. Carla wasn’t happy when she found him in the morning as she brought Emily to school. But Beau couldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, the tragic events flashed before him like a horror movie, witnessing Randy’s death in a never-ending loop. He kept seeing his partner get dragged away, heard the shot over and over again like a rain of bullets without a ceasefire.
The guilt was eating him alive. The guilt of getting his partner into this mess in the first place. Of leaving him behind. Of surviving and coming out alive when he didn’t deserve to.
So, Beau kept drinking to forget, even though he knew it was a futile endeavor. The memory would never fade, but at least it was blurred.
Your heavy breaths echoed through the small trailer. His mouth moved down the column of your throat, leaving a wet path of ravenous love bites in its wake.
“Fuck, baby,” you moaned wantonly, his grip on your flesh punishing as he kept you pressed flush against him while he devoured you on the little dining table. Your ass sat on the wooden surface, your crossed ankles locked tightly behind his muscular back.
“God, you made me so happy today,” he growled against the shell of your ear, his rising length rubbing against your core through layers of denim.
“I can see that.” You giggled, your hands dangling in his hair. “There’s no need to hate him so much, you know?”
“Says you,” Beau quipped and unzipped your jeans, eagerly pulling them off you as his mouth sucked your clavicle purple and blue. “That slimy coyote always had it out for me.”
Beau removed your panties as well, tossing them behind his shoulder where they landed in the kitchen sink. “Whoops.” He grinned charmingly but was unstoppable, freeing his throbbing dick as he shoved his jeans and boxers barely over his ass. He didn’t bother to slip out of them all the way, too impatient to wait any longer to enter you.
“Still, I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” you said and braced yourself on his broad shoulders as one large hand on your back pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His other hand grabbed his cock, twisting his fist along the hard, long shaft a few times before he glided his cockhead through your slick folds.
“Not always.” With one harsh thrust, he pushed inside you, your tight walls fighting to make room for him and adjust to his stretch.
You gasped at the pleasurable burn that coursed through your body and ignited every sizzling nerve. He dropped his head to your shoulder, giving both of you some time to get used to each other. You could tell you were in for a wilder ride tonight. You always loved when he fucked you rough and hard. There was something raw and animalistic about the need in his hypnotizing green eyes.
Beau then claimed your lips with one fervent kiss, enough of a spark to cause a wildfire. He met your gaze, hands gingerly cupping your cheeks. “But I love that you’re mine now. And I’m sure as hell gonna make you mine tonight, darlin’.”
You crashed your lips against his, your kisses frenzied and untamed as his hips began to slam into you. His pounds into your pussy were relentless as you swallowed every inch of him. You gripped him tight, already feeling your first orgasm bloom. It accumulated like dark, violent storm clouds on the horizon, forecasting roaring thunder and heavy rainfall.
“Oh God! Fuck, baby!” You screamed as your climax tore through you like a hurricane, your cunt gushing on his cock and pulsing around him. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades and scratched down his back as you came undone.
Beau groaned into your ear, squeezing his eyes shut as he barely held on himself. But he didn’t let up and kept up his furious pace, not ready to stop yet. “Shit, keep doing that. You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he grunted against your skin, your sensitive flesh barely withstanding his ruthless pumps. “Want you to come again, darlin’.”
With his declaration, his hand slipped between your sweat-clad bodies. You came close to losing your mind as he thumbed furiously at your clit, the stars already starting to twinkle in front of your eyes. You could feel yourself get shoved to the edge once more, staring down the steep cliffs of white-hot ecstasy.
Your mind was consumed by need, his grip on your hips bruising as you exploded. You cried out raucously, your whole body quaking in his hold upon your eruption, the aftershocks so powerful they could cause cracks in your bones.
Beau spilled his seed deep inside of you, his body stuttering in rhythm with yours as your earthquake took him down with you. Hazy gazes met each other with lazy smiles as ragged breaths mingled.
“Fuck, that was good. I think that one might make it into our Top Ten.” Beau chuckled gravelly and placed a gentle kiss on your temple.
“Hmm, not sure. We have a few greatest hits.” You giggled and bit down on your lower lip with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Can I tell you something?”
Beau cupped your cheeks, thumbs caressing the heated and rosy skin as he lifted your gaze. “Anything.”
“Just between us, you’re the best lover I ever had,” you confessed with a wide grin. The corners of his mouth rose to match yours.
“Well, between us, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. You’re it, darlin’. You know that, right? You’re the love of my life,” Beau revealed, making you smile brighter than you ever had before.
“I’m not sure about the sex, but this moment, right here, is probably gonna make it into the Top Ten,” you said softly as a few tears stung your eyes.
“Good.” Beau smiled and pecked your forehead.
The buzzing of a phone shifted your attention. You recognized it as yours, and Beau was quick to retrieve it from your jeans pocket in the pile of clothes on the floor.
“It’s Jenny,” you told him before picking up. “Hello… What?! Uh-huh, we’ll be right there.”
Beau’s brow furrowed as he watched your features flicker through an array of emotions. “Bad news?”
“Uhm, honestly, I don’t know,” you said and swallowed some of your confusion down, gathering your thoughts. “Jenny said Diane just walked into the station and gave herself up. She is ready to confess but only wants to talk to us.”
“Us? As in us two?” Beau’s eyes narrowed. You nodded. “Well, that doesn’t sound fishy at all,” he commented wryly.
“Yup, I don’t like it.”
Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds – JUNE 26
A lot of revelations and foreboding in this one... 👀 Also, I just love having Beau say the word "coyotes" for some reason 😂
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@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies
@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28
@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444
@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad
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Pearl Wild Life Session 6 Live Reaction
Title has me scared, thumbnail has me hyped. Murder camel?? But also Loss??? | | |I
|| | |_
Yay trap day!
Ooo our only choices are Gem and Lizzie!
Meeting time! We have a six person team that’s literally crazy. Grandpa and Ghost are here.
Not them being liars in chat lol “This is crazy!” “no way” “YOU GUYS DONT HAVE THIS?” “that was scary for a second” the power of having so many people is you can just lie.
PEARL STOP GOING PLACES ALONE! THIS IS HOW WE DIE PEARL!
Hi Billy! Hi cows!
Bluetooth redstone!
BILLY NO!
GUARDIAN AND PIGLINS AND PILLAGERS??
Billy is a donkey now??
New camel duo!!
OG CAMEL DUO YAY!
“How much do you hate me today Gem?” “A lot!” We may be on a camel but the divorce is still on!
“You know why though? I’ve reasons today. I have reason. I’ve reflected. Do you remember last session when you couldn’t remember, you thought you put your eye into the portal! Do you remember that?” “Ohhh but we weren’t even there for you putting the eyeball into that!” “Did you even look me in the face during our murder camel happenings?” “Yeah we had such a good time! It was so much fun!” “Do you remember what my face looked like?” “Oh. I forgot about your skin.” “Are you guys bonding?” “No, not bonding at all Impulse. This is so sad” “Okay and then other than that!” “It’s okay she’s gonna talk about it Impulse.” “You 2v1’d me! I’m still holding a grudge about that! And you know about holding grudges across seasons!” “Let’s put this straight! I didn’t 2v1 you. I let Scar kill you, I watched.” “No, I remember specifically you hitting me once!” “Just once! Just one little wack!” “It was not a regen based season!” “I sat the dogs down, Gem. You had so many hearts, you were gonna live!” “Once was enough!” “You were fine, you see look at that! We’re thriving!” You’re both right and both wrong. The best kind of argument.
“I’m just saying, I’ll forgive you if you actually 1v1v1v whatever me and not 2v1.” “It seems kinda like we’re trying to kill each other at that point. Seems kinda against the point, no? Right?” “Yeah, we have to die Pearl, that’s the game.” “Seems like there’s only resolution after the game, right?” “We can die six times, we don’t have to die.” “I CANT DIE SIX TIMES? I can die twice!” “You can die once.” “Okay, 1v1 me right now Gem.” “Okay!” “You were too all into that.” “Well. It’s high stakes for you. We’ve PvPed on Hermitcraft, it’s about 50/50 who wins who loses.” “Yeah but I’m yellow.” You two are going to drive me insane. SHES OFFERING YOU A SOLUTION PEARL PLEASE I KNOW ITS HIGH STAKES BUT THE DRAMA WOULD BE DELISH EITHER WAY!
Oh no what happens if Billy becomes hostile. Do we have to kill him?
Lizzie sacrificed herself to Jimmy! Gem is the last dark green…
Impulse and Pearl trapping together! And failing!
“You don’t need Impulse! You’re capable!” “Clearly not!” Seems like you weren’t there for her 27 fails against Lizzie last session lol.
“Two hunks on the hump” martyn why
“Puppy! Awwwww”
All that argument about the cows was for nothing…. We made enemies with Gem and Joel for nothing…
A positive shiny duo interaction? In my wild life? (Ignore that she called Gem a rat and tried to kill her it’s fine) AND THEY GOT ON A CAMEL AFTER!
Tango on the camel! A new murder buddy! Hi Skizzy! Can’t wait to watch other povs and see her camel scooting across the ground lol.
SKIZZ GOT THE GEM KILL YAY! Pearl didn’t aww
THERES A WARDEN WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING IN THIS SERIES!
Oh it’s Tango, Pearl and Etho! That’s the perfect trio to encounter a warden! The decked out winner, Queen, and game master lol
Oh great they name tagged it so he can never leave. Beautiful.
Pearl’s immunity to warden fear is real and true. I do not believe Grian even a little bit. No one should get near the warden lol.
SKIZZ RUN SKIZZ RUN SKIZZ WHY YOU JUST GOT BACK TO GREEN
Skizz, Scott and Pearl slowly tridenting a warden to death is so funny. PEARL DO NOT GET CLOSER PEARL!
Oh she got the totem! Yay!! I should have believed Grian!
A creeper claims another kill. Oh BigB with a creeper! He doesn’t get a life cause Skizz was light green tho.
Ah! A pit trap on the creeper farm! And a trap on the wheat! This whole base is rigged to kill and that’s wonderful.
Scar died to a Vex? Ironic. And Etho to a Skellyboy!
Ooo Skizz on red!
PEARL WHY DO YOU WANT TO START A RAID??
“Pearl and I are off to cause chaos!” Welcome to the summary of Impulse and Pearl’s wild life season. Aw the raid isn’t working :( NEVER MIND ITS WORKING NOW SCRAM
Jimmy was killed by bloop?
“You know I want you to win the series!” AWW SHE GAVE HIM HER TOTEM! THEY ARE BESTIES! I LOVE THEM!
Skizz is gone! Aw! Jimmy is officially the highest rank he’s ever been btw.
It’s a birthday cake! Yay!
Since when was Lizzie on red? Hello?
Pearl failing to kill… again. She’s so washed up (affectionate)
Trip cancelled! Trip cancelled! That editing was hilarious with the music stopping.
Pearl you will not be able to successfully trap Gem. I think we have to give up at some point. (This is a joke)
“Pearl, Scar wants me to kill you and I said no way” “Why would he want to kill me? I haven’t done anything to him.” “He said you want out of the series, so, and I said no that’s a lie.” Nosey Neighbors crumbs.
Calling a lie a “porky” is the most Aussie thing I’ve ever heard.
Omg she stole Gem’s camel. There’s some symbolism there I guess.
Yay Bdubs ally! I dub thee, Gonzo.
I liked the wild card this episode! Very fun, especially cause of how much of the season has been squabbling about cows lol. Who cares, the cows are dead!
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I don't tend to interact with people in general unless they initiate even if i want to, and that goes double with fandom spaces. I very easily miss and forget things, including attempts at bullying around or even toward me. Idk i usually only send asks via Anon, but this question thing is just. Really good. At first, i didn't feel like they applied to me much since i haven't really interacted with fandom spaces since i was 14 anyways and that when i did, i also remember confronting the racism i managed to notice.
But thinking more about it. I know there was a lot of racism i didn't notice or recognise or forgot about immediately and therefore didn't respond to and even if i don't see myself as part of 'fandom' that all definitely also applies to the real world!
My two best friends are mixed and have both told me they'd been called the n-word in fucking kindergarten. My dad's friend's wife who i like and care about a lot not only had to deal with moving from Uganda to a very different country and learn a new language only spoken here, but she and her kids must've dealt with so much anti-Blackness that i have no idea about. There's so many people i know, both friends and close acquaintances who constantly have to deal with something i have such a hard time to understand.
Some family members have the philosophy that saying bigoted shit when only family are around is ok. They think I'm being a spoilsport for getting upset about it even when that certain bigotry doesn't apply to me. It sometimes makes me think that maybe i am overreacting, but if i can't feel comfortable even having them around people who that bigotry would apply to. If i feel embarrassed for being related to people like that, then I'm not overreacting at all when i get upset and tell them to cut it out.
Not speaking out against it means I'm contributing to a terrible environment i know not only hurts people i care about deeply but also so many more. Bigotry in fandom might not seem as serious as in real life, but it reflects how those people are irl and helps normalise an environment where people feel comfortable to be bigoted. Black people not being able to escape anti-Blackness for a second even in fandom shouldn't be accepted as how things just are.
I apologise for the long incoherent rambling, weird wording and focus on myself i just. Asking those kind of questions and doing what you do is invaluable in so many ways. I really hope everyone that's seen your posts are able to apply it both in fandom and art as well as outside of it. Thank you, all your work does make a difference and I'm very happy that I'll be able to be a better friend and ally!
Indeed! Nothing I say here can't be generally applied to how you treat Black people in real life. The perspective holds; you don't consume media in a vacuum.
I sincerely hope you do become a better friend and ally 🙏🏾
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