#i wish people would stop calling season three bad

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part IX

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

Warnings: emotional rollercoaster-ish? p having her last game :( SMUT (handcuffs...)

Wordcount: 11.9K

A/N: this is it, the final chapter. i know it's incredibly long but people voted to have a longer chapter instead of two parts so this is what i did. i genuinely can not thank every person who has read/liked/reposted this series enough - i never thought so many people would show so much love for what i've written and it genuinely moves me as a writer. i'm feeling surprisingly emotional letting go of Valerie and Paige, but i know the time has come. expect an epilogue eventually, but also tune in for my next series So It Goes, which will be a much longer project! anyways genuinely, ty from the bottom of my heart, i'm grateful for each and every person reading this <3 ALSO HAPPY GAME DAY WE BETTER DUNK ON ND IDC

-

“Shot clock at four, Chen to Bueckers,”

The four seconds somehow feel closer to a minute, time slowing down around me, people moving in slow motion as I step back and get settled behind the three point line. With a flick of my wrist I let the ball fly.

“Bueckers for three…”

My eyes follow the ball as it soars in an angle, silently praying it’s the correct one I had practiced over and over as it starts coming down. I barely hear the crowd roaring, everyone on their feet. This was our last chance and it was all up to me. What could be my final game in this uniform, with these people I loved could be over in a matter of seconds. I let the gratitude wash over me. If this is it then I’m incredibly blessed, but please God, don’t let this be it.

Like instant gratification for my faith, with a swish the ball slips through the net, the buzzer going off, barely audible over the uproar of the crowd deafening me. 

“GOT IT! Bueckers brings Huskies to a two point lead, taking them to the final four!”

The waves of relief and adrenaline fill me from head to toe when my teammates run to me, all of us jumping up and down. Clammy hands are grabbing me everywhere, squeezing my shoulder and ruffling my hair. We did it, the National Championship barely out of our reach now. 

“Thank God!” I sigh in relief, looking up to the sky in a silent prayer. I’m interrupted as the girls around chant “BDB, BDB” over and over, all circling me with excitement. I feel overjoyed, all the sacrifices, challenges I’d been through were worth this moment. I feel my eyes well up as I take it all in, the girls laughing with joy all around me, the crowd cheering louder than ever before this season, and Coach walking to me and patting my shoulder. That’s all I needed to know what he meant. I made him proud. The moment is nearly perfect, only one person missing to make it complete.

-

“BABE??” Valerie’s voice comes through the phone harshly, speaking loud over a chattering crowd of people.

“Why are we yelling?” I chuckle, leaning my back against the changing room wall, cold on my sweaty back.

“BABY THAT WAS INSANE!” She says, voice excited. “I’M AT TED’S SO I CAN’T REALLY HEAR YOU.”

“I’m so happy but fuck I miss you ma-”

“Wait Paige you there?!” She speaks over me, clearly not hearing a word.

“Val can you hear me?”

“P? You there?”

The beeps stop me, the call over before it even began. Rubbing my jaw I feel a twinge in my chest. All I wanted right now was her, the lost connection only reminding me more of the distance between us. It felt uncomfortable, almost painful in my body to be so far away from her.

the connections bad ):

paige i’m so fucking proud of you, you should’ve seen me i was jumping up and down

That’s okay ma. Wish I seen it too.

Wish u were here

It was selfish of me, in fact I had been the one to tell Valerie not to come watch us play. Last time she watched me, I’d been a mess. I couldn’t risk being distracted this time.

I had found my groove quickly, the fine line between being Paige Buckets and girlfriend Paige. A lot of it was due to Valerie’s surprising patience with me while I figured all this out. Somehow it made me better on the court too - I never found myself pretending to be someone else anymore. However, having my girl in the crowd watching me, cheering me on, well that was a different subject. I couldn’t help but fear that her presence would have me messing up, getting unfocused. And now wasn’t the time to test the waters. So I had told her to stay home.

Valerie wanted anything but that, her mouth quickly turning into a frown as I told her no. But after some arguing back and forth I sweet talked her out of it. 

“I thought you’d want me there,” her words still echoed in my head. As much as it pained me to admit, Valerie was right. Now that it was all done, all I wanted was my girl on my arm.

told you

Call me when u get home?

are you tryna get rid of me? 

Never

good

 -

My voice is slurred as I lock myself in the bathroom, hands clumsily handling the lock before I coo into the phone.

“Babyyyy,”

“Paige, are you drunk?” Valerie chuckles. I nod as if the girl on the phone could see me. After we won the drinks had been flowing, me and the girls locking ourselves into one of the hotel rooms and sharing a bottle of Tito’s. It wasn’t necessarily allowed but Geno and CD were usually good sports about it, turning their backs and letting us do what kids in college did.

“Perhaps,” I giggle, which makes the girl on the phone let out a bright laugh.

“You’re really milking that Unrivaled ad huh? Never heard you say that word in my life before that,” she teases.

“Are you tryna say I’m bad with words? What about ‘work tour’ and ‘I did all I could so God could do all I can’t’? Now those went hard.”

“Paige I’ve seen the folder on your phone full of lil things like that for you to say. You’re not that slick,” Valerie laughs into the phone. She was right of course. I wasn’t that slick. I might’ve been embarrassed by the way I’d been exposed, but I simply couldn’t. Hearing her voice, even when insulting me, had me weak in the knees.

“I love you,” I sigh into the phone, leaning against the cold marble of the bathroom sink.

“I love you too, P. I meant what I said earlier. I’m so fucking proud of you,” she murmurs, voice turning softer like it always did when she was telling me something important. 

Grinning to myself a sinister thought flashes across my mind, which I would usually keep to myself but the alcohol in my blood had me feeling bold.

“Whatchu wearing ma?”

Valerie scoffs and giggles into the phone, “Bro chill!”

“C’mon Val I won big today and I miss my girl,” I whine, the foolproof method to get the brunette to bend to my will working this time too.

“Well I just got in bed,” she murmurs, I hear her shifting. “Just in that T-shirt you left and panties.”

For a moment I close my eyes imagining her, smooth legs sprawled over the blanket, bare tits so easy to expose just by pulling that damn shirt off.

“What kinda panties?” I ask, my voice now hoarse and deeper than before.

“You’re not with the girls still?” Val asks but I’m quick to answer, impatient for the detail I had asked for.

“I’m alone, I’m in the bathroom in my room. What kinda panties?”

The phone catches the heavy sigh Valerie lets out, a sign of her own arousal growing, caused by the urgency, sheer need in my voice.

“Red ones, the lace ones with the bows?”

I cuss under my breath, pressing my thighs together, eyes still closed envisioning my girl.

“Take the shirt off,” I command, Valerie shifting to pull the top off.

“It’s off,” she whispers, her voice breathy with need. 

Biting my lip I throw my head back, desperate for her. “Can you show me ma?”

She doesn’t hesitate, less than a minute later a notification comes through. Fumbling with my phone I finally get the picture open, letting out an audible groan. It’s my girl lying on her back, back arching so her breasts are perked up, the bows of the red panties decorating her body, thick thighs pressing together deliciously. I can’t help but drag my hand into my sweatpants, sliding it beneath my boxers to find some sort of relief to my need.

“Fuck ma you’re so sexy,” I groan, my fingers swirling in my folds, making my knees shake. “You should- ah shit, you should play with yourself.”

“Yeah?” she asks so innocently I nearly come.

“Yea baby, I am.”

Suddenly I hear her gasping, which only makes me groan more. The adrenaline of the game, the post win euphoria and the need for my girl had made me soaked and the picture was only spurring me on.

“Tell me how wet that pussy is,” I whimper into the phone, the sounds of Valerie’s moans turning me on even more. The marble is cold against my lower back, but I’m only paying attention to the sounds filling my ear, and the way my fingertips rub against my clit, getting me to the edge quickly.

“So- so wet P, all for you,” she whines. 

“Need you to finger yourself baby,” I order, squeezing my eyes shut, lost in the memory of how her cunt felt squeezing my fingers. “Imagine it’s me.”

The girl lets out a sharp inhale, and I know she’s working herself close to the edge.

“Fuck a dub, you’re my prize,” I murmur into the phone, trying to control my moans. My words are only encouraging the brunette, making her moan louder.

“Baby, need you here so bad,” she cries out, voice turning more high pitched. I let my head lull back as I rub my clit in sloppy circles, feeling myself teetering the edge.

“I know baby, ‘m right here,” I breathe heavily, feeling my slick cover my fingers. “I’m not gon’ last long Val.”

Hearing that does it, her moans turning desperate in that familiar way - she was there too.

“P I’m gonna come!”

“Shit baby, come on,” I let out a groan, my fingers quickly working me over the edge as I listen to Valerie’s moans on the phone. Waves of pleasure wash over me as I grip the sink behind me, watching the picture of Valerie nearly naked on my screen. I lucked out.

“Oh fuck,” Valerie breathes into the phone as she comes down, my own legs still shaking from the climax.

“I know,” I exhale and pull my hand out of my pants, allowing some space for both of us to calm down. Now that I was feeling more sober it really hit me hard, the distance. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around her and inhale the scent of her hair, feel her body molding into mine. I know Valerie feels it too when I hear her speak.

“Can’t believe you’re moving to Dallas soon,” she murmurs quietly, her voice small. 

We had been tactically avoiding the conversation, both of us having the same fears of how the discussion might go. Long-distance was hard for anyone, but I barely knew how to be in a relationship. In only the last week or so we had ran into many issues mostly caused by me and my lack of communication skills. I was learning fast and I wanted to for her - but the weight of the future felt heavy on my chest and doubt was starting to creep in. Not all the time, but in moments like this. When I saw a glimpse of what might lie ahead of us. Many nights like these.

I had grown enough to know that this wasn’t the time to have that discussion though.

“Hey maybe I’ll get drafted to the Sparks, we don’t know yet,” I joke trying to lighten the mood, as if that was any better. Well for me it was, I wouldn’t have to live in fuck ass Dallas.

“Mhm,” she mumbles and I could tell from her voice reality was hitting her quick. Last thing I wanted was for her to be upset, so I try to steer the conversation once more.

“I’m so excited for this date I got planned baby, you’re gon love it,” I murmur into the phone washing my hands. Her tone shifts, now slightly lighter.

“It better be good, I’ve been waiting,” she jokes and I let out a sigh of relief knowing the difficult conversation could be pushed off to another day.

“Oh trust, it will be.”

-

I check my hair one more time, my brunette locks in a perfect blowout when there’s a faint knock on the door.

“Valerie! It’s for you I think,” my roomie Amy shouts. I quickly grab a sweater to throw over the black long bodycon dress I was wearing in case it got cold, taking my purse to go open the door. I could feel excitement swirling in my gut for our first date. Giddy like a child on Christmas morning I tiptoe to the door, my roomies all whistling at how good the dress made my ass look - which was precisely the reason I wore it.

Opening the door I’m met with a huge bouquet of deep red roses before I even see the blonde holding them. Gasping I grab the flowers, burying my nose in and inhaling. 

“Oh my Goooood,” I gleam, letting the floral scent fill my nostrils. Finally lifting my gaze I see Paige, with a stupid wide grin on her face watching me, looking fine as hell as usual. Her blonde hair is slicked back in a bun, wearing black cargos and a white long sleeve, diamond studs decorating her ears and a chain with the number 5 hanging off her neck.

“You look so good,” I gasp and throw myself at the blonde, wrapping my arms around her dramatically and kissing her. She chuckles but kisses me back, but when she sees my outfit her face falls.

“Val, the dress…”

I immediately frown, feeling self-conscious. “Oh… you don’t like it?”

“Oh God no I love it, wanna take it off you right now,” she says her voice low and quiet so my roommates don’t overhear. “But you’re gon’ get cold baby.”

“Well you didn’t tell me what to dress for,” I say slightly annoyed, still holding the bouquet. If she wanted me to dress a certain way she could’ve let me know. I was trying to give Paige the benefit of the doubt. She wasn’t used to any of this, real dates, a real girlfriend.

“You right that’s my bad,” Paige murmurs, scratching the back of her neck. “You should change into something a lil warmer tho. I’ll put the flowers in a vase for you ma.”

“Fine.”

With a defiant groan I march into my room, leaving Paige to chat with my roommates, Amy and Layla. Neither the biggest fans of the basketball star after seeing the rollercoaster she put me through since we met. I knew they were still suspicious. I was just hoping Paige’s charms could win them over.

Taking off my dress I stand in the carefully picked lingerie staring into my wardrobe. Suddenly the door opens, the tall blonde making her way in and whistling when her eyes fall on the purple set on my body.

“NO! You’re not supposed to see yet!” I yelp and try to cover up with a pillow - unsuccessfully. Laughing, Paige closes her eyes and walks over to me bumping into my desk until her stretched out hands land on my ass.

“Well hello,” she grins, wiggling her brows, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Paige!! Stop!” I complain, though I liked the way her hands were feeling me up everywhere.

“Hey! I’m not lookin at least, gimme something,” she says and stands behind me, her hands snaking around to squeeze both my breasts, making me both flustered and giggly.

“Okay I gotta get dressed P or we’ll never get out,” I chuckle and grab a pair of white cargos and a black and white striped sweater to put on.

“Fineeeee,” the girl groans and plops herself down onto my bed, still with her eyes closed. Once the clothes are on I walk over to her, standing in between her legs as I lean down and kiss her cheek. Her blue eyes open, sparkling when she sees me.

“You look perfect,” she hums, shoving her hands in my back pockets to feel my ass up. 

“Well that dress would’ve been nicer,” I murmur, still a little annoyed. Paige, rolling her eyes, stands up and walks me out the door by my shoulders.

“Well now you won’t be bitchin’ about being cold and shit,” she says.

I had no idea what Paige had planned, but she had been acting all sly about the plans the entire week. It had grown so irritating I almost wanted to tell her off for it, but I knew it was her way of showing she was excited which in turn excited me as well.

The air is surprisingly warm despite the grey overcast caused by the cloudy sky as we head out. Paige opens the door to the passenger seat of her Jeep for me, quickly walking over to the other side and climbing in.

“Sooo where are we going?” I ask, trying to peek into the backseat for any clues. Paige proudly grins as I lean back to find only water bottles, a couple of Nike shoe boxes and a basketball in there. Way to play into every stereotype.

“You’ll see Val,” she beams, her hand coming to rest on my thigh as she accelerates on the highway. “It’s like a little over an hour away.”

Knowing it would be pointless to pry, I stare at the scenery out the car window, enjoying the comfortable silence falling over me and Paige - a rare occasion considering her mouth was always going. I felt at ease, her presence wrapping me in a duvet of calm. Of course my fears were still there when it came to the girl next to me. It would take months of building trust and communication to let go of all that had happened between us. The thing was, we didn’t have months.

In fact a month was all we barely had left before Paige would be leaving for Dallas. Obviously it wasn’t official yet, not till the draft. But we both know what the future holds. 

I look at Paige, her side profile outlined beautifully against the light shining in through the window behind her. My eyes roam the tip of her nose, the curve of her lips as she raps along to some song I wasn’t paying attention to. Paige had become a master at the art of evasion, the unmentioned topic heavy between me and her. Mentally I was beginning to prepare for the worst, to face the truth. We could barely stick by each other’s side the past few months and we lived on the same campus - how could we ever make it through long-distance while I finish my masters?

And what then? I pack my shit up and move to Dallas? Would Paige even want me there? She’s gonna meet so many new people, her whole life is about to change. Even if she wanted me now, I’m not so sure she’ll want me a year later. The idea was terrifying, causing a twist in my gut, us finally sorting our shit out just to have to give all this up. So I was just trying to soak in every moment I had with her, even if they were our last ones before the inevitable.

Eventually my eyes land on blue waves stretching across the horizon before us as Paige turns left into a parking lot. I feel excitement growing in my chest for what the girl might’ve planned, pushing away the thoughts of the inevitable end that was looming right in front of us.

“Isn’t it a lil cold for swimming?” I ask confused as Paige parks, my gaze taking in the waves crashing against the sand, only a few others walking along the coastline on the cloudy day. I had always found there to be something extremely serene about a grey day on the beach, the ocean smelled different, the humidity causing the air to grow heavy.

“We’re not going for a swim ma, I’m taking you on a picnic,” she grins and I can tell from the look on her face that she’s proud of this. Paige Bueckers, the All-American basketball star, the one I’d been begging to let me sleep over just a few months ago taking me on a picnic. My heart nearly bursts with affection and I don’t fight the urge to lean over and kiss her. The blonde smiles into the kiss, her lips fitting against mine just right.

As I reach for the door Paige slaps my hand away, the sting making me jump. 

“Ow what the hell!”

“Don’t even think about it,” she says as she gets out and walks to the other side to pull the car door open for me.

“Ma’am,” she teases but I look at her, still rubbing my hand.

“That hurt y’know,” I mumble, it didn’t really but something about Paige made me play up my theatrics.

“I did what I had to, now stand the hell up,” she commands pulling me out.

“This isn’t my idea of romantic P,” I complain as she walks me to the trunk of the car by my arm and opens it. I immediately swallow my words when I see what’s inside -  a checkered picnic blanket, pillows, a large picnic basket, a cooler and a small speaker.

“This better?” Paige asks, watching my face light up. I would never admit it but part of me thought she could never plan something like this, that it wasn’t her thing. I suppose I was wrong.

“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” I gasp and wrap my arms around her neck and jump, knowing Paige will catch me everytime. She holds me up in the air by my waist and lets me pepper kisses all along her face.

“You deserve it ma, you deserve a whole lot,” she murmurs into my ear before placing me down, hands rubbing up and down my back. “Would give you the whole world if I could.”

Her eyes are blue and sparkling as my gaze meets hers. I wanna pause the moment, stay there with her forever.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

Paige grabs all the heavy stuff insisting I grab the blanket and the pillow instead. Picking the perfect spot we set everything down, the blonde not letting me help the tiniest bit as she sets everything up for us. I inhale the salty air, humming as the scent fills my nostrils. The high-pitched screeches of seagulls echo across the waves and I step out of my shoes, letting the sand against my bare feet ground me.

“Aight, I think we’re set,” Paige says, setting open the picnic basket. Sitting down on the blanket I watch carefully as the blonde pulls out different foods. Chocolate covered strawberries, croissants and pastries - very elegant, very not Paige.

“How did you-?”

“I googled uh, romantic foods… and the girls thought this was a good idea,” she explains sheepishly, handing me a Coke from the cooler. “Is this lame?”

There’s genuine panic on her face and for the first time I notice a slight shake in her hands. Paige Bueckers was nervous. I could barely believe it.

“Paige I love it,” I reassure her but notice the way she’s chewing the insides of her cheeks, tapping her fingers against her Coke can. Without thinking I bring my hand to hers, our eyes meeting. “I mean it. I love this baby.”

She lets out a relieved exhale, a hesitant smile growing on her face. “I did good?”. Looking for praise, as always.

I nod. “Yes, P, you did good,” I grin and lean over to peck her cheek. Smirking, the blonde lifts her arm up to flex.

“Well yeah I knew that,” she rolls her eyes and I scoff when I feel a bead of water drip down my forehead.

Paige feels it too, her blue eyes darting to the sky. The clouds are turning dark above us at a rapid rate, an ominous sign telling us the date might end before it even starts.

“Did you check the weather before P?” I ask as more rain begins to fall down.

“Fuck…” Paige sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose in frustration telling me that she in fact didn’t.

I could tell that she was starting to feel discouraged, it was all a little hard for her - the relationship stuff. For me it was enough that she was trying, but that would never be enough for Paige. Always the winner.

“Maybe it’ll pass… it’s fine!” I assure her and grab a chocolate strawberry, trying to feed it to her. But all of a sudden the soft spring rain turns into a heavy downpour, my hair and clothes getting drenched in a matter of seconds, sticking to my skin. So much for the blowout I spent an hour on this morning.

“Forreal?!” Paige groans, blonde strands darkening from the rain. 

“We should probably pack up P…” I carefully tell her, getting up and offering a hand to her. She’s looking defeated and frustrated, staring at the ground. With a heavy sigh she stands up without grabbing my hand, head nodding towards the parking lot. 

“No, lemme. You get in the car so you don’t get wet,” she murmurs hopelessly, not meeting my gaze, clenching her hand into a fist.

“No I wanna help-”

“Valerie get in the damn car.”

I knew the blonde well enough to know there was no fighting her once she got like this, so I obey, grabbing the pillows and heading towards the car. I knew exactly what Paige was thinking - that perhaps this was a sign from God of what was to come, that we just weren’t meant to be doing any of this.

Then it hits me - an idea that might save this whole day. I empty the backseat and the trunk completely, placing everything neatly on the front seats (and wondering why she needed 3 basketballs in her car but… sure). After fiddling with the seats in the back I fold them flat, opening up plenty of space in the trunk. Grateful for the hoarding Paige had been practicing, I lay down some towels I found in her car and the slightly damp pillows, setting them up for us.

“Val I told you to get in, you’re gettin’ wet,” Paige lectures as she returns, quickly stopping in her tracks when she sees what I had done.

The back of Paige’s Jeep is laid out flat, the trunk open for a view of the beach stretched out along the horizon. It wasn’t what we had planned for, but I would be damned before I give up on this day.

“C’mon,” I tell the blonde as I climb in, sitting cross-legged as I watch her wordlessly follow. Both of us are soaked, hair dripping water and the fabric of our clothes cold and sticking to our skin. Nevertheless I was hellbent on making this work somehow.

Turning to Paige I smile proudly but she’s frowning, eyes locked on her own lap. She’s upset, not with me but herself.

“I’m so fucking bad at this Val,” she murmurs disappointedly. My heart aches for her, but also for me, terrified knowing the blonde didn’t like to do things she didn’t excel at - this being one of them. Maybe it was only a matter of time when she’d decide to give up on this. On us.

“Paige-”

“And then you fix everything, when I’m supposed to be the one taking you out. Fuck, Val, you should just be with someone who can actually do this shit,” she’s rambling on and I feel that fear growing with each defeated word she says.

“Paige! We’re supposed to be a team, sometimes you drop the ball and I pick it up, so when I drop it, it’s gonna be your turn, ok?” I tell her, my voice steady but stern. She meets my gaze, frowning and shaking her head.

“Ion got time to figure this all out before…” she sighs, a deep furrow in her brows, stopping herself before the painful words slip out. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.

“Really? Now you wanna have that conversation?” I ask annoyed. She couldn’t just let me fix the date, she just had to start talking about this now. If there was something she really wasn’t the master of it was time and place.

“Well we gotta talk it out at some point ma,” Paige says, her rising voice making me feel defensive.

“Alright so during our first date then? Now?!” I say, closing the picnic basket.

Paige lets out a bitter chuckle, throwing her head back. “This ain’t counting as a date, trust.”

“Why do you have to be like that? I’m tryna fix this and you do that? I don’t need any of this,” I say pointing to the picnic basket and the cooler and the beach. “Just needed you with me and I woulda been happy!”

“Well I figured it wasn’t enough for you before!”

I know exactly what she means. How I wanted her to myself when she had a roster full of girls, how I wanted more. But the way she said it was like I was selfish, like it was too much to want her to myself. Like she didn’t want the same.

It hurts. I go quiet, averting my gaze from her. I feel my eyes burn but don’t let the tears fall. I hear the girl in front of me take a deep sigh, rubbing her jaw.

“Shit… Val, I didn’t mean it like that…” she murmurs but I don’t pay attention. 

“We should go back,” I sigh, defeated. 

“No no no, baby please, lemme try again plea-”

“I want to go home.” I say sternly and climb out of the trunk. I could feel my heart breaking, now that I got a preview of what was to come once Paige left for Dallas. We would never survive it.

We drive home in silence, but not the easy, comfortable kind. The air inside the car is heavy with things left unsaid. Once we get to Storrs Paige walks me to my dorm, leaning into the door frame as I take off my shoes, eager to get out of the freezing cold clothes, sticking to my skin uncomfortably. The red roses sit pretty in a vase on my nightstand, reminding me of the excitement of earlier and how quickly it had fizzled out. Paige was one of the most resilient people I knew when it came to her sport - however that certainly wasn’t the case in her relationships. It was as if all her fight was reserved for basketball.

“Can I come in for a bit?” She asks carefully.

“I need to get outta these clothes and shower,” I mumble to the blonde. I was hoping she’d fight me, plead to let her in.

She exhales but doesn’t, that quick to give up on us.

“Okay.”

She’s chasing my gaze, but I can’t look at her. Reality was hitting me faster than I’d like and it was so much more painful than all those times Paige went and slept with another girl. Somehow this was way worse. I don’t know how to react without starting to cry - so I don’t react at all.

“Okay.”

Paige sighs and touches my arm just for a second.

“I love you, I’ll text you.”

“Okay P, love you too.”

With that she leaves, no kiss, no hug and she’s gone. Just like she will be in a month or so.

-

“You’re so stupid Paige,” Jana rolls her eyes and the other girls nod in agreement. 

“Forreal you need like dating lessons or sumn,” Aubrey says, manspreading on the couch. I’m lying in the middle of the living room floor, retelling what happened just the other day with me and Valerie.

“I know how to date,” I scoff, throwing my arm over my face.

“No you know how to fuck, there’s a difference,” KK says and the girls hum, nodding their heads.

Azzi walks into the living room, holding a bottle of water, watching all of us gathered around me and my dramatics.

“What’s going on?” She questions, watching me sprawled out on the floor.

“Our BDB here started talking about the Dallas thing in the middle of their first date,” Kaitlyn shakes her head, making Azzi’s eyes widen.

“Girl… you’re an idiot.”

“That’s what I said,” Jana agrees. I groan and rub my face, I suppose they were right.

“That’s what I’m sayin’ tho, I dunno how to be in a relationship so how am I gonna do long-distance with anyone?” I ask, feeling dejected.

Aubrey throws a pillow on me but I was too tired to dodge, letting it land on me. “You’re so stupid.”

“What I’m saying,” Azzi hums, sitting on the edge of the couch. “You’re all about the fight and being resilient. You’ve been through so much shit and pushed through it but some relationship issues and you give up already?”

The words hit hard as I take them in. Because every single word was right. I was a fighter, a demon on the court at my best - so why wasn’t I fighting for me and Valerie.

“You love this girl right?” Aubrey asks, already knowing the answer.

“The most,” I admit, tilting my head to look at her.

“And she’s worth fighting for?”

Fuck yeah she was. More than anyone. I nod.

“Then what’s your problem?” KK asks.

Deep down I knew what my problem was. I was scared. Fucking terrified. I knew if I worked really hard for this and it all went down the drain, it would be the biggest pain of my life. But then again Valerie was worth that risk. I loved her with my whole existence, every cell in me burning for her. Letting her go without a fight might be the only thing that could hurt me more.

“You right,” I murmur and finally get up from the floor, checking the time. Her night shift had just started. “Anyone wanna go to Ted’s?”

-

The bar is crowded, the end of March bringing students from all over to spend the sunny spring day drinking and dancing. It’s pleasantly busy but not packed to the brim. Everytime I walk into Ted’s I’m brought back to the times I spent sitting in that one table by the corner, drinking Shirleys and watching over Valerie, begging that some sort of miracle would allow her to be mine. The way her mouth twisted into a smile each night I stepped in will forever be engraved in my mind. 

To my surprise, I’m met with that same, familiar smile when our eyes meet. I thought she might be upset with me, but the way her perfect face lights up behind the bar makes me feel relieved. 

She scurries to me from behind the bar counter, and hugs me tight. Without a care in the world I kiss her, not caring who might see, what the students watching might say behind our backs. Who cares, I’d be leaving in a bit anyway.

Valerie kisses me back, humming into my mouth clearly pleased about my affections. The smell of coconut enamors me, drawing me in. 

“I’m so sorry,” I murmur against her in between desperate kisses.

“Forget it, just happy you’re here,” the girl sighs, her kisses filled with a similar urgency. Neither of us wanted to fight, not knowing these were our last moments in Storrs.

Her fingertips press into the back of my head, pulling me in closer when we’re rudely interrupted.

“I love you guys but Riri I need your help,” Natalie laughs, making drinks hurriedly. 

We pull apart, her brown eyes twinkling in the low light. “Sorry Nat,” Valerie chuckles, giving me a smile that says everything’s okay. Hesitantly, we let go of each other, the girl returning to her job. 

“So I think y’all are good,” KK laughs and the girls join in. I shrug, still feeling the tingle of her kiss on my lips. “Should we go sit?”

“You guys go, I’ll be there in a bit,” I wave the girls off, taking a seat on a stool by the bar. My eyes watch closely as Valerie works, taking in every movement. Her concentrated expression, the slightly clumsy way she handles the bottles because of how small her hands are. It all makes me love her more.

I sit there for 15 minutes, 30 minutes, then an hour has passed but I barely realise, living for the stolen glances and giggles between us. I could watch her forever. For the rest of my life.

“Do you come with the drink?” I overhear some guy, definitely shorter than me and younger, asks Valerie as she’s serving him. Immediately I let out an annoyed scoff, rolling my eyes. 

“Unfortunately no,” Valerie chuckles in a friendly manner, fishing for tips. I feel myself growing more irritated, seeing the way this guy is eyeing my girl, the way his eyes lock on her chest in the white top. Now don’t get me wrong, I was the first person to understand why someone would ogle over Valerie - she always looked incredible. The way her work uniform of blue jeans and a white top hugged her body, the slight wave of her hair she hadn’t blow dried, the minimal makeup she wore to work, it all made her look so good I could’ve eaten her alive. But she was my Valerie, mine to look at, to flirt with.

“Damn, what if I tip well,” the guy continues, making me get up from my seat.

“Yoooo chill chill, not too much,” I say with slight irritation, finding to my pleasure that I am in fact taller than the guy as I walk up to him. His eyes flash with recognition as he takes me in, quickly backing down. 

“Paige uhh,” he murmurs, lifting his hands up. “My bad, she your girl?”

“She is,” I glance over to Valerie who’s smiling at me. 

“And she tips pretty well so…” Valerie adds, making the guy chuckle awkwardly. God I loved her. The guy is quick to back away.

“You can’t work here anymore,” I say jokingly, just meaning it the tiniest bit.

Valerie scoffs, giggling to herself. “Yeah then who’s gonna pay my rent?”

“I’ll pay for everything, I got that NIL deal ma.”

-

Paige has spent hours sitting on that one stool, shooing off one guy after another trying to hit on me. 

“You gotta stop working here,” she repeated to me after the fifth guy had tried to take me home. Thankfully the moment the men saw Paige and realised who she was, they were quick to back off. I didn’t wanna find out what might happen if they didn’t. 

“Alright Nat, you gonna be good for the night?” I ask as I take off my nametag, letting my long hair down, feeling it fall down my back.

“All good hun! Go home, have some fun with your lady,” she grins and I chuckle.

“Speaking of, where’s P?”

My eyes roam the crowd, the blonde not hard to find being one of the tallest women here. To my surprise she’s talking to a group of people - and not just any people. My best friends and roommates.

An unease takes over me, knowing that a conflict was likely to erupt unless my roomies could keep their mouths shut. I loved them dearly but once they disliked someone it was impossible to change their minds.

Taking hurried steps, preparing to diffuse the situation, to my surprise, everyone’s laughing, including Paige, telling some sort of story about when KK locked herself out of their dorm. 

“What’s going on here?” I chuckle awkwardly, the blonde immediately wrapping her arm tightly around my waist and placing a kiss on the top of my head.

“We were thinking Paige should come to our next dinner party!” Layla says excitedly, clapping her hands together. Monthly dinner parties had become a tradition for us, the first weekend of each month dedicated to spending time together around a shared meal. It had become important, almost sacred. Warmth spreads in my chest thinking about how it was even a consideration to include my girlfriend.

“Ohh P’s gonna be in Tampa,” I realise, leaning my head against her side. “She’s got the final games then.”

“Aww no way,” some of my friends pout to my surprise, genuinely disappointed.

“Then Val can’t come either,” Paige says ruffling my hair. I smooth over it quickly, shooting her a confused look.

“You’re coming to Tampa too, right ma?” She asks.

It’s like my heart skips a beat when her words land. The image flashes in my head, of me getting to watch my girl dominate the court and bring home the Championship if God willing. The thought alone is enough to make me emotional.

There’s a stupid grin on my face when I turn to Paige.

“Are you sure because last time-”

“I was stupid last time, I need you there with me. I’ll sort out the flights and hotels and tickets and everything.”

And hearing her say that means nothing short of everything.

-

Be You. Be Great.

Be You. Be Great.

I repeat the words to myself over and over in my head, a silent prayer. I look at my reflection, the navy Uconn jersey on my body for the very last time. It almost felt too small on me, I knew realistically it wasn’t. But something about it felt like I was close to outgrowing it. 

I remember my first game like it was yesterday, the way the jersey felt then, how it swallowed my lanky body. I was just a kid then, not that I felt like an adult now. But I did feel wiser. My arms and shoulders were bigger, filling out the jersey now. I was carrying my name and the number on my back for Uconn for the very last time.

“Paige…” Allie interrupts my thoughts, knocking on the wall next to me. Suddenly I’m back in the dressing rooms, in Tampa, and she’s watching me with a sly smile.

“Sup Allie,” I grin and wrap my arm around my freshie, wanting to savour every second of these last moments I got to spend with the girls as a Husky.

“Come with meeee,” Allie smiles, pushing me towards the cubbies where all the girls are in a half circle, smiling at me. A little creepy, I think to myself as she leaves me to stand in front of the team on my own.

“Uhhh is this when you kill me?” I ask with a grin, causing the girls to erupt into giggles.

“We got you something Paigey,” Ice smiles and walks up to me, handing me a small present, wrapped in purple paper. I feel my chest tightening as I hold the neatly wrapped box in my hands, slowly starting to unwrap it.

“HOLLUP HOLLUP!” KK suddenly interrupts and runs to me holding another present, this one much less neatly wrapped, more of a pile of wrapping paper all taped together.

“It’s from me,” the girl next to me grins.

Ice and Azzi scoff. “Hey we said no present of our own!”

“Well you don’t love P Boogers like I do,” KK sneers and turns to me. “Open mine first!”

“Okayy okay,” I laugh and unwrap the present in my hands, one layer of paper after another. 

“Damn did you use a whole roll of paper for this?” I ask, peeling away.

“Be nice or I’m taking it away,” KK scolds, giddy by my side. Finally I reach the last layers, ripping up the paper to reveal… furry purple handcuffs?

Before I can say anything KK has cuffed my left hand to her right one, painfully yanking my arm around as she cheers. 

“What the hell???” I yelp, yanking my hand back to my side and looking at the furry cuff tightened around my wrist.

“Now you won’t leave me,” KK hums and wraps her arms around me tight. Everyone bursts into laughter, including me but I hug the girl back - she was like a little sister, this whole team was my family and Storrs was my home. I was already feeling the dread of having to say goodbye itching in the back of my mind.

“Now how we gon explain this to coach?” I chuckle, squeezing KK’s shoulder and dangling our cuffed wrists in the air.

“Guess we just gotta play like this,” she shrugs. 

Rolling my eyes I shake my head and look across the room. “I’m gon miss so many layups today guys.”

Laughs erupt all around the room, except from beside me where KK is looking at me scoldingly. 

“Don’ say that,” she argues and starts unlocking the cuffs, unhappy with me.

“I get to keep these tho?” I ask with a grin, my mind already going to filthy images of all the opportunities to use these on Valerie. 

“Nasty,” KK mumbles, finally freeing my hand as I grab the cuffs and the key. Returning to the neatly wrapped gift I unwrap one corner at a time, finding a navy blue jewelry case inside. Opening it I gasp, seeing three silver rings lined up in a neat row - each one a letter. BDB.

“Are you forreal,” I chuckle excitedly, my mouth falling open as the girls cheer. I carefully take them out, placing each one on the fingers of my left hand, unable to stop the huge grin on my face.

“Guys…” I pout, already feeling tears forming but Jana is quick to stop me. 

“Not yet!”

Suddenly I feel hands wrap around my waist from behind me squeezing tight. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is. I can tell just by the weight of her touch.

“Hey baby,” Valerie murmurs and places a kiss on my shoulder as I turn around. Immediately I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her in the air and letting my nose bury into her hair. I had seen her this morning before getting to the arena, but all day I’d been complaining to the girls about how I wish I could see her just for a second before we start preparing for this game. 

Valerie giggles as I spin her, finally placing her on the ground.

“Don’t tell Coach or CD,” Aubrey laughs. “We snuck her in.”

It’s then when I notice Valerie’s outfit. A miniskirt and boots which would have driven me crazy if it wasn’t for what was covering her upper body - A white Uconn jersey, with my name and number on it in big bold letters. Her face is bright, like she’s proud to carry my name on her. Proud to be mine. And it’s at that moment the tears begin to burn in my eyes.

“You’re wearing it,” I say weakly, a single tear rolling down my cheek. 

“Baby why are you crying?” Valerie asks, surprised, wrapping her arms around me tight as the girls gush looking at us.

“Remember when we first met and you wouldn’t wear my hoodie?” 

“Yes, silly that’s why I’m wearing this. I’m making it up for you,” she giggles and kisses my cheek before pulling away. Her hand however remains around my waist as we both turn to the team, comfortingly rubbing her thumb against my skin. All the anticipation, the nerves and the emotion were overwhelming me, heightening all my senses. I sniffle a little, turning to the girls, my family.

“We love you Paige,” Ice says, her voice shaky with emotion. The girls nod in agreement, many meeting my level of emotion, eyes welling up and lower lips trembling. “You’re not just a part of the team but a coach to all of us.”

“Forreal thank you, for everything,” Jana adds.

“We got it from here P,” Sarah smiles at me and it makes me feel at ease, knowing I did what I could, gave everything I had to them. That I could leave knowing I did my all, gave them all I got.

“Don’t forget us in Dallas tho,” KK says as Valerie rubs my back comfortingly, knowing without words that I needed it before my emotions took over. “Now let’s get this Natty y’all!” 

I clap as we huddle up, all my girls around me as we hug and hype each other up, Valerie so short she’s almost getting crushed by Jana and Aubrey jumping up and down next to her. Laughing through the tears I wrap my arm protectively around her and kiss the top of her head, inhaling her scent one more time. I had everything I needed right here to win.

-

Buzzer.

“And the drought has ended! The National Championship goes to Connecticut for the first time since 2016! Paige Bueckers ends her college career with 27 points in this game, leading the Huskies to a long awaited victory!”

It’s immediate, the joy, the tears. I don’t think I’m completely in my body when me and the girls all crash into poor Geno, hugging him tight, jumping up and down around him. I let my emotions take over, letting the tears run down my cheeks. I look around and see my girls doing the same, letting their tears flow. We fought for this, we earned this. I’m not saying it was late, but it was right on time.

When Coach turns to hug me, there are tears in his eyes too. I knew he wanted this for me as much as I did, but seeing the look on his face makes me feel it even more. After all the adversity, the injuries, the lessons life had thrown in my face - I was finally here. On the other side of it all, victorious. In that moment I realise all the setbacks made this moment a million times sweeter. 

“You did it kid, you deserve it,” he says into my ear and it means everything.

We finally break apart from our group hug, my mind immediately going to the one person missing. But before I can even look around, I hear her deafening cheer, her golden brown hair swaying in the air as she jumps up and down, beaming at me. 

Before my mind thinks it through I’m running to her, wrapping my arms around her and picking her up, my lips crashing into hers. The audience, the media, our coaching staff might as well not have been there. I didn’t care who saw, or filmed or whatever else. I just won the National Championship and I needed to kiss my girl.

“Paige,” she giggles against my lips but kisses me back, her careful hands wrapping around my neck. I’m sweaty and sticky and my face is wet with tears and this would be all over Tiktok tomorrow but we couldn’t care less.

“I love you,” I gasp as I pull away, shocked to find her brown eyes welling up as she smiles at me.

“I love you so much,” she sniffles as I let her on the ground, her small hands coming to wipe tears off my face. “I’m so fucking proud of you P.”

“I’m so happy you came,” I hum, more happy tears rolling down my cheeks. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

And it was the truth. All this time I had been so worried about Valerie being a distraction, something that would cause me to fail. But now I realised she was the biggest motivator, my biggest fan. Seeing her looking at me with tears in her eyes, a grin on her face and beaming brightly made me realise winning with my girl by my side felt a million times better. The best prize I could ask for. 

-

“You’re supposed to swipe it,” the girl behind me mumbles, her words a little slurred from the alcohol that had been consumed at the afterparty.

“I know how to open a damn door,” I complain, just as tipsy if not more as I fumble with the card.

“Hurry, P,” she whines, her hands wrapping around me from behind me as she kisses my upper back, making me see stars already.

“That’s really not helpin’ ma,” I groan, finally getting the door open by some miracle, crashing into the hotel room I had booked for Val just a couple blocks away from our hotel. We had stayed at the afterparty as long as we physically could, but all I could think about was having this girl bent over in front of me with those purple cuffs around her wrists ever since I finished my first drink of the night. It didn’t help that she was in the tightest, shortest purple dress for me, my hand itching to make its way beneath the hem.

The second the door closes Valerie’s pushing me against it, kissing my neck heatedly. I let out a moan, my hands flying to her ass, lifting the short hem out of the way. I feel her hot whimper against my skin when I grope her behind, feeling her up hungrily. We’re both starving for each other.

She’s trying to pin me against the door with her smaller frame, and it’s almost pathetic how easily I flip us over, taking charge. Valerie gasps as her back presses against the door and I manoeuvre my thigh in between her legs, pressing against her core harshly as I begin to kiss her, dragging against her clit.

“Fuck me,” she gasps into my mouth like a plea. I pin her against the door, both my big hands on her waist as I grind my thigh into her, already feeling a slight tremble in my legs.

“Oh baby I plan to,” I tell her, kissing along her neck leaving a trail of purple marks. “Got a lotta plans for you.”

“Need more,” the brunette whimpers, the whine in her voice driving me insane. Unable to hold back anymore myself I lift her up by her thighs with ease, throwing her onto the hotel bed. 

“Get undressed,” I command, watching the way she’s trying to catch her breath as I shed clothes till I’m in black boxers and a matching sports bra. Putting on a show for me, Valerie slowly shimmies the purple dress off her body, my jaw falling slack to find no bra underneath it. But it’s the crotchless purple panties that make me groan out loud.

“You’re such a slut,” I murmur, watching her laying on her back on the bed and spreading her legs. 

“Mmmh you like it,” she giggles. I feel my mouth watering, watching the way her pussy is glistening for me already.

“I do ma,” I murmur, dragging a finger slowly upwards from her ankle, goosebumps following my touch as I reach her knee, her thigh, her inner thigh - just ghosting where she needed me most to bring my fingers splayed on her lower stomach, watching her squirm.

“You wanna be a good girl for me?” I ask, as if I wasn’t about to fuck her no matter the answer. I can feel my boxers growing wetter as her big brown eyes look up at me, needy.

“Whatever you want baby, I’m all yours,” she tells me. The words are music to my ears.

I lick my lips as my fingertip circles her nipple, gently tucking on it to find it quickly getting hard under my touch. 

“Shit, stay right there,” I hiss and walk to my bag, pulling out the purple furry handcuffs. Valerie’s eyes widen as she sees them, but the smile on her face tells me she approves.

“You down?” I ask carefully, wanting to make sure. The brunette nods, eyes locked on the cuffs.

I tut at her, my hand grabbing her chin and forcing her gaze on me, dangling the cuffs in front of her like a prize.

“Use your words ma,” I encourage, the blush on Valerie’s face turning deeper, my dominance flustering the girl

“Yes,” she murmurs and I smirk, brushing her now messy hair off her face. She might be feisty, always putting up a fight. But once I got her wet it was so easy to get her to submit, to let me take charge. I loved it.

“There we go,” I praise, swiftly grabbing her wrists and cuffing them to the metal of bed frame, making sure I could celebrate my win without Valerie’s hands getting in the way.

She’s already squirming, too impatient to wait. Shit, so was I. I had been waiting to have my way with her all night.

I walk to the end of the bed, spreading her legs open for me, the view of her cunt in the crotchless panties driving me up the wall. Taking her ankle into my hand I begin to kiss up her leg, slowly making my way upwards to her inner thigh, leaving small marks behind.

“Mmhm, Paige…” she whines.

“Relax, you’ll get it,” I coo, pulling my own boxers down. “But you’re gonna do a lil sumn for me first.”

With that I straddle Valerie’s face, feeling my need dripping down my thighs. I needed her bad, my head spinning and cunt throbbing at this point. She lets out a moan seeing me so close and soaked for her.

“Please baby,” she whimpers, goosebumps everywhere when I feel her hot breath on my core. She’s trying to chase after me, her neck stretching to reach my core.

“Shit, you want it?”

“So bad please,” Valerie whines and I can’t take it anymore.

My hands entangle in her hair as I lower myself onto her, Valerie’s perfect mouth beginning to work immediately.

“Oh shiiiiit ma,” I groan, throwing my head back, her tongue moving back and forth in my folds just the way I liked.

“Taste so good Paige,” she moans against my clit before her plump lips wrap around it and suck, tongue circling in a way that was dizzying. I could feel the way I was getting wetter, the way I was probably making a mess all over Valerie’s face but the way she was lapping me up seemed like she was loving this as much as I was.

“So fucking good, fuck,” I moan, tightening my grip in Valerie’s perfect brown locks and beginning to guide her mouth wherever I wanted. I could feel the muscles in my thighs begin to shake, my free hand grabbing the headboard of the bed as I ride her face.

She’s squirming under me, squeezing her thighs shut to seek any friction at all which only makes me groan louder. My eyes lock onto her face underneath me, scrunched up in pleasure, mouth buried in my cunt, head moving wherever I yanked it. 

Needing more, I pull her closer, not entirely sure if she can breathe but when I feel my climax start to build, I decide I don’t care.

“Just like that Valerie,” I praise, my voice and body shaking now as I’m literally grinding myself against her face, my cunt throbbing as I feel myself near the edge. I hear her muffled moans, feel the vibrations against me as my eyes squeeze shut, my orgasm taking over.

“Oh shit, Val,” I groan, pulling her impossibly close. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it.”

The pleasure ripples over me, coming in waves as I come against Valerie’s face, watching the way her pretty hands are grabbing onto the handcuffs decorating her wrists. I grip her hair tight, pulling on it as I moan.

“Damn,” I exhale, my chest heaving as I lift myself off her. Valerie’s face is glistening with my mess, and she’s hungrily licking it off her lips, arching her back, a feeble attempt to tell me one and only thing - she needs to be touched. Bad.

“Now lemme eat this pussy,” I tell her, my mouth already watering as I crawl between her legs, wrapping my arms around her thighs to lift them on my shoulders. And I dive in. I had been waiting all night for this.

A loud moan escapes Valerie’s lips as my tongue works her, slow licks from her entrance to her clit as to clean her up. The taste of her makes me moan out loud, her arousal dripping out of her already, before I had barely touched her.

“This wet already huh? You like watching me play that bad?” I hum against her, watching the way she’s squirming, the way her hands are already tucking at the cuffs - desperate to grab my head and pull me closer.

“Paige, moreeee,” she cries, trying to buck her hips closer but unable to do anything else with the way she was stuck to the bed. Her helplessness only made me wanna drag it out for longer.

“Answer the question,” I demand my tongue now circling her entrance menacingly, licking upwards and repeating. 

She huffs and whines frustratedly. “Like watching you win.”

Good answer.

That moment I bury myself into her pussy, beginning to flick my tongue over her clit at an impossible speed, quickly overwhelming her. My eyes squeeze shut as I alternate between sloppy laps on her pussy and precise circles on her clit, Valerie’s thighs quickly closing in on my head as she writhes, handcuffs clanking against the metal of the bed frame. Her moans and the sinful sounds my mouth is making as I eat her fill the hotel room.

“Paige right there oh fuck,” she nearly screams, the alcohol in her system making her more bold. I keep eating her out, tasting every inch of her. Fuck I could never get enough, I was drunk off her pussy. I wanted to be for the rest of my fucking life.

“I gotchu mama,” I moan against her, keeping up my movements until her moans turn high pitched, and I can tell she’s on the edge. Reaching up, I take her nipples in between my fingers, fondling them as I keep moving my tongue back and forth on her clit at a rapid pace.

“Shit, shit shit,” she’s gasping now, back arching high as she releases all over my tongue, making me groan in response. My head is buried in her cunt, coaxing her through the orgasm. 

-

I’m only starting to come down from my orgasm when Paige pulls back and suddenly two of her fingers slide inside me, quickly beginning to pump in and out.

“Wait, no, too much,” I gasp, doing everything I could to pull my hands free but it was no use. Her hand doesn’t slow down despite my whining. A loud moan spills from between my lips, the stretch completely overwhelming my sensitive cunt.

“Need one more from you Val,” Paige praises, watching the way I swallow her fingers up closely. “Gonna feel so good I promise.”

I cry out, my eyes welling with tears at the overwhelming sensation, Paige’s long and nimble fingers curving inwards against my walls, making me even throb around her.

“Ohh shit that’s it,” she gasps, repeating the movement and feeling me throb once more. “Can fucking feel it.”

I squirm, legs shaking and closing around her but she pries them open with ease, the bicep in her right arm flexing as she pumps in faster, the veins of her hands popping more prominently. The wet sounds coming from inside me fill the room - almost embarrassingly loud.

“Too much,” I whine. Without stopping her movements, Paige climbs up to face me from between my legs, grabbing my jaw, licking her lips.

“You said whatever I want before,” she reminds me, her voice stern, demanding. “You’re gon take it ma.”

My eyes flutter shut, the mix of her words and her fingers moving at an overwhelming speed making my mind spin. I keep yanking on the cuffs, not because I think I’ll get free, but because I don’t know what to do with my hands, immense pleasure taking over my body.

“So fucking perfect,” Paige murmurs, still holding my face as she adds a third finger, the stretch now enough to make my whole body tremble. “Could fuck this pussy forever.”

“Open your mouth,” she coos and I do as I’m told, too weak to even think for myself. To think of anything but the way Paige’s fingers are stretching me out, the squelching sound filling my ears as she pounds them into me.

Paige leans down to kiss me, her tongue meeting mine before our lips crash. She still tastes like a mix of me and herself. I keep moaning, my mouth wide open as she kisses around it, cussing to herself.

“Shit, so fucking tight for me huh?”

“Paige,” I plead, unsure of what for when my back arches and I feel my walls tighten, squeezing Paige’s fingers. She feels it too, letting out a groan. My hips are squirming uncontrollably, forcing Paige to pin me back down against the bed, hand pressing hard on my lower stomach as she sits up to finger me even faster.

The pressure on my abdomen and the rapid speed make my eyes roll back, my climax building impossibly strong. 

“I’m so close, oh shi-” I’m gasping for air, mind spinning, Paige’s cussing the only anchor to the moment as I throb around her, teetering right on the edge.

“Tell me you’re my girl baby,” Paige moans, making me nod desperately.

“I’m your girl, shit, all yours.”

“That’s right, my good girl.”

With that, the orgasm washes over me, Paige’s fingers pressing against my walls, creating such an intense stretch I swear I’m on the verge of blacking out. My moans are deafening as my back arches uncontrollably, Paige’s other hand remaining on my stomach. The waves of pleasure are incredibly intense as I mewl and release with force, the world going black for a second.

I’m brought back by the blonde’s fingers sliding out, leaving an uncomfortable emptiness within me. I let out a whine, feeling sweat dripping down my neck, the sheets sticking to my skin. I don’t open my eyes until Paige has unlocked the handcuffs, carefully caressing over my wrists and kissing them as she pulls a blanket over me.

“Valerie?” 

“Yeah?” I whisper, still attempting to catch my breath.

“You alive mama?” Paige grins as my eyes slowly flutter open, watching her bring me water and a small present wrapped with a blue paper and white ribbon.

“Just about,” I mumble, shimmying up the bed to lean against the pillows behind me. I felt completely fucked out - and surely looked it. Paige certainly did, straight hair that had been down now tangled at the back but her usual braids still perfectly in place, mascara flaking underneath her eyes.

“What’s that?” I ask, eyeing the gift in the blonde’s hand. She chuckles and offers me a bottle of water.

“Drink a lil first, don’t want you to pass out,” she laughs as she climbs over me to the other side of the bed. Deciding she was probably right, I throw my head back and chuck some of the water, feeling the cold liquid make its way down.

“I gotchu a lil something,” Paige starts, handing the present to me. I take it with both hands, eyes flickering between it and the blonde’s bright blue eyes. 

“No, I should be the one getting you a gift, you kidding?” I ask, but Paige leans over, her big hand pressing against my cheek as she kisses me.

“I already got my gift,” she murmurs against my lips. Usually I would’ve made a comment about her corny line, but today I couldn’t. I knew exactly what she meant. “Open it.”

Slowly I unwrap the gift, finding a small box inside. I furrow my brows in confusion, but grin.

“Girl you better not be proposing because I think it’s a lil early,” I joke, making Paige let out a heartfelt laugh.

“Just open the damn box,” she complains, watching me closely. I do as I’m told, finding inside a little golden charm. Eyeing it closer, I realise it’s the number 5.

“For your bracelet,” Paige says. I let out a shaky breath, bringing the box closer to my face. It was beautiful, but what it meant was even more important to me. What it might signify.

“Paige…” I sigh contentedly, watching as the blonde with great care holds my wrist and places the charm on the gold bracelet that I wore, each day of my life. Now decorated with a golden 5. My girl’s 5.

Our eyes meet and we wrap our arms around each other, soft kisses between us as we lie down on the bed, Paige pulling me on her chest.

“I love you Valerie,” she hums, fingertips playing with the ends of my brown hair.

“I love you too,” I murmur against her lips, placing soft kisses all over them. Nuzzling my nose, the blonde pulls back. I watch her blue eyes, the way they twinkle in the dim hotel room. My national champion, my winner, my Paige. All mine.

“Come to Dallas with me,” she whispers, a surprising sureness in her voice.

Batting my eyes, I pull back. “What?”

She grabs my hand in hers and kisses my fingers, one by one. 

“Don’t make me go without you,” she pleads. “At least come and stay for the summer, and then we can think about what we do.”

“But what about school? I still got a year left P…” I remind her but she shakes her head.

“Just for the summer, and then if you hate it you can come back and I won’t even complain,” the blonde puts her hand up. “Scouts honor.”

Taking it all in, my chest fills with affection. She really wanted me with her.

“You forreal?” I ask carefully, making Paige grin.

“Val, Ion wanna even think about life without you. I can’t be away from you,” she says, pulling me into another kiss. This one is slow, meaningful. Telling me she means every word - and I trust it. I trust her.

“We’re gonna make this work no matter what,” she whispers, nose nuzzling into mine. “Gonna need you there for all my wins.”

I can already see it. Me sitting courtside, watching her win game after game, fulfilling her destiny with me by her side. Having her come home to me, waking up next to her every morning. Perhaps for the rest of my life. 

So there’s nothing else I can do but agree. There were no other options I could fathom. I would go to the ends of the earth for her. And it feels incredible to trust - to know - that she would do the same for me. It’s in the twinkle of her eye when she looks at me, the way her hands always find my waist, how her voice lowers and softens when whispering sweet nothings into my ear. I didn’t need words from her. I knew all of it without.

-

ily guys

taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @bueckersfive @onlyhereforpazzi @lovegalor333 @frankoceanlvr303039 @pb524830 @angryflowerwitch@mamixdanni @rosemariiaa @d3arapril @vbueckers @sageworld @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @oreo2sblog @slvt4her @julieloveswbb@vsz333 @faeries-posts @vamptizm @ellapurnellmybeloved @ivorygoal @onlyhereforpazzi@thelightknight21@paigeluvvr@absolutelydreadful@imamartini@lupinqs@authenticgirl03@isurpussygreen@xxloveralways14 @numberonepartyanth3m

[icyg4l]

PAC: July 2024 Predictions

Hello beautiful people! This is my last week posting/sending readings out for a while! I will be back, but I just need a moment to focus on real life. So if you would like to book a reading with me, don’t hesitate to message me privately! Anyway, tonight I will be talking about your July 2024. So please, without further ado, please select the pile that resonates with you!

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-3)

Pile One: I heard "weighing out your options". I think you may be in the middle of figuring out your taste in love. However, you may be making a risky decision. Remember this everything that feels good ain't always good for you. This month, you will learn to be stingier with your love. Also, there may be someone around you that is negligent. There is no reason to take the high road with them, you need to figure out what goes on and come up with a resolution to prevent this from going on any further. I feel like you will be cutting ties with someone who has been embarrassing you. It will be sad and hard to do, but you only have one life. I also heard "count your blessings". You need to see the light in today. Act like you care about what's going on around you. There is someone who has been picking with you, it's time to cut them off! I see you feeling relieved by the end of the month (only because Leo season aka the best season has startedddd) Overall, this month seems like a good month to start over. Reignite the passion in your life and start today!

Pile Two: "Plagued with confusion" is what I just heard. I feel like this July will be kind of hard for you, Pile Two. There is something that will feel off about this month. Get your mind out the gutter, for one. But also, there is something that is feeding on your energy. It feels vampiric. A person who treats you like a baby or has a newborn baby could be significant. You are your own person. You show up as yourself and get the job done! But you have to stop letting people take advantage of your innocence. I'm watching this anime called Nana. Nana K is the very innocent, perky, loving friend who wouldn't hurt a fly. That's you, Pile Two. But just because you wouldn't hurt a fly, doesn't mean the fly won't hurt you. It seems as though you will be on a quest for independence. Trying to find your way while also trying to see what's your niche. You are young and you will figure it out. Don't let anyone tell you thank you can't. If you really want it that bad, then it can be achieved. This is cliche to say, but just believe! "Wish Upon A Star!" could be a relevant movie to you.

Pile Three: You could be taking a trip out of the country. Barcelona comes to mind. I see you also being receptive to food requests as well. You may be a picky eater, but this month you won't be, lol. Some of you are in summer school, trying to bring a grade up/trying to make the next school year easier. You should try to receive counseling as much as you can. It will ease your mind and in return, your grades will be much better. I heard the word proficient. During this time, you could find yourself doing a lot of backpacking. This is very specific but if you have been praying on someone's downfall, they will receiving their rightfully deserved karma. I am hearing a leprechaun laugh. This is someone's abusive ex or manipulative ex-bestie. I think that you will try to keep your calm this month. You should repeat mantras to yourself, everyday. Maybe you should listen to some more Jhene Aiko. I heard Kevin Gates??? LOL! You will be in touch with your feminine energy during this month so try not to be so active. Be ready for anything, beloved. And lastly, some of you will try out for a sports team. You'll get in because of your connection to the coach or one of the primetime players. Also, some of you could be going to a sports game for free because of one of the players/coaches.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Wasteland, Baby

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 3.4k

TW: Mentions of Murders, mentions of suicide, discussion of suicide, trauma, emotional turmoil, death, arguing, abandonment issues, commitment issues, Angst, some fluff

A/N: Thanks for bearing with me as I try to get off the struggle bus y'all. here is the highly anticipated part 2 of Stick Season !

All the fear and the fire of the end of the world Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl Happens great, happens sweet Happily, I'm unfazed here, too

It had been three years since you left the BAU and you had just turned down a job at the FBI from Erin Strauss. You never heard from her again. 

But you did attend her funeral in D.C a week later.

You didn’t alert any of the BAU that you were returning for her funeral, since you could only imagine the pain they were feeling. 

The plane ride was filled with thoughts of what life would have been like if you had rejoined the FBI. Maybe she wouldn't have died. Maybe she’d still be calling you and sending you email after email with job offers. 

You had quickly stopped by the wake, the day before, to pay your respects, and give Strauss’ family your deepest condolences. It was painful, seeing someone you spoke to last week, stiff, lifeless, in a coffin where they will be for the rest of time. 

But the worst part was the burial. 

Blending in at a funeral has never been a strong suit of the BAU’s, except for you. You were calm, respectful, and blended in with the rest of the spectators. 

Until you looked across the circle and saw Aaron Hotchner looking directly at you. Whatever he had been feeling before, was quickly wiped away when you looked back at him, confirming his suspicions that you were here, in the graveyard. The look on his face was replaced with a more somber one as he redirected his attention back to the priest, but you knew you would be unable to just leave now that you had been spotted. 

Once she had been lowered into the ground, Hotch made his way towards you, catching his colleges interested. Where was he going? Who was he looking for?

“Y/n.” 

You smiled at him. It didn’t reach your eyes, but it wasn;t fake either. 

“It’s good to see you Hotch.” 

“I didn’t know you were going to be here today.” 

You nodded and looked over as the rest of the people migrated towards their cars to go to the reception afterwards. “I didn’t make it public information, considering I was planning on leaving after the ceremony. I’m just here to pay my respects Hotch.” 

“She called you.” 

“Yes she did.” 

“And she said you turned it down.” 

“I did.”

“Why.” 

“Hotch, please.” 

He took your elbow and pulled you away from the people, giving the two of you some semblance of privacy. 

“Will you at least think about it?” 

“What is there to think about Hotch? I don’t want to—” 

“I wish you wouldn’t lie to me. I know you miss it Y/n. I’m not just some colleague, and you know that.” 

You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. You knew coming to this funeral was a mistake. But some part of you, one that you had silenced for a very long time, was starting to break through. 

“We can talk later.” 

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

“I cannot believe you’re going back.” 

You sighed and continued to pack up everything you owned into boxes. You had only broken down the ones from a few years ago–that same part of you had saved them for whenever you had recognized you were ready to be back in Washington D.C. 

“Don’t ignore me. I thought you were done with hunting bad guys and certain doctors with glasses.” 

You slammed your hands on the table, causing Lucille to jump. 

“Sorry.” You muttered and slowly sunk to the ground, deciding it was just easier to sit on the ground and have a breakdown rather than talk it out. 

“I’m not going back for him…I’m going back for me. This…” You ran a hand through your hair. “This is n’t what I was meant to do, Luce. I’m not a teacher. I’m okay at it, but…I was meant to be in the field. Teaching is challenging, but not in the way I need. And fuck, I love my kids, you know that I do, but it’s just…”

“It’s not who you are.” She came and sat down next to you, taking your hand in hers. “I’m gonna miss you asshole.” 

You rested your head on her shoulder and squeezed her hand. “I’m going to miss you so much.” You whispered back to her. 

“You have to visit me. I’ll get lonely up here.” 

A smile spread across your face as a tear slowly tracked down your cheek. “ You have my permission to hunt me down and beat the shit out of me if I don’t.” 

“Oh don’t worry, I will.” 

All the things yet to come are the things that have passed Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass Like the bonfire that burns That all words in the fight fell to

Your desk stayed pretty empty for the first two weeks you were back—like you were terrified that if you got too comfortable, life would pull the rug right out from under you again and you’d have to leave. 

It was Garcia who first noticed this, watching as you’d pack everything up into your tote bag each night before you would go home. She didn’t say anything about it though, since you were not the same girl the BAU had grown to know. 

You were different, quieter. You spoke when you had something to add, or to correct somebody, but you never participated in the banter; you never stayed longer than absolutely necessary. If the group had decided to surprise you at your new apartment, they would find it covered in boxes—walls bare, fridge almost empty, only essentials like clothes and toothbrush unpacked. 

But you had never been better. Hotch had you start consulting side cases when you came back, a way to get you used to the routine of being back in the office, back in the FBI. You would consult up to three new cases a day, still helping with those that would call back a day or week later for updates or more help. They watched as you easily solved things in minutes, that might have taken the team hours. 

The first time Morgan called you ‘Girl Genius’ to your face, you punched him in the arm (admittedly a bit harshly). But he wasn’t wrong. You could feel the continuous excitement flowing through your veins; your muscles flexing as you settled back into the thing you were the best at. 

You were different, but better. 

Spencer noticed this too. He watched as you confidently answered every question thrown at you. He watched as you consulted on cases and noticed patterns he had missed. 

Spencer had missed you, badly. He knew he fucked up when he had left that night, needed to go and he spend the night away, thinking about his life; his future. Panic had flooded his body at the thought of you being the one forced to take care of him, forced to deal with his shit history and addictive personality and his annoying ass rambles. He didn’t want to subject you to that. 

But then he remembered the look on your face—the pure excitement and adoration at the thought of being able to spend every single minute of your life calling him yours. And once the panic had subsided, he felt that same joy. 

When he got back to the house, you weren’t there. 

You weren’t at work either. 

You had just vanished, and about a day later, all of your things had disappeared too. 

And Spencer was a fucking wreck. He was useless at work, and he spent so much time trying to find you, but Penelope wasn’t able to find a thing, and by the time she did, it had been months later, and you clearly didn’t want to be found. 

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

It didn’t help that seeing you again in Vermont made him want to melt on the spot. A great deal of relief washed over him, seeing you were alive and in front of him. But then he felt the anger rise in him. You had abandoned him, you had just disappeared without a second thought. 

Then he remembered the look on your face when he panicked about marrying you.

You had thought he didn’t want to marry you. 

You had no idea that he felt like he was the the problem, and if he told you know, it would just sound like a fucking excuse. 

Watching you walk back into the bullpen and set up at your desk was another slap in the face. It feels like nobody tells him anything, because they don’t. But then he realized that only Hotch knew about it because everyone froze on the spot seeing you sitting at your desk, working. 

At his desk, he would just watch you. On the plane, he would watch you. And he tried so hard to be nonchalant about it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your hair, your legs, your arms, your lips—he wanted to take your hand and never let you go, fusing your skin together so he could be with you always. 

He was in love with you. And he thought you would rather die than be seen with him again. 

If only he knew that you felt the same way—you loved him right back. 

And that day that we'll watch the death of the sun To the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on And you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs

After about three months, infinite pining, a few longing glances passed to one another, and incessant whining from Derek Morgan, you and Spencer Reid found yourselves together at coffee one morning. 

After about a month later, you found yourself back in his apartment, lips grazing his, not being able to tell where his body ended and yours started. 

Then, the next day, he told you he loved you. 

He didn’t see you for a whole week afterwards. 

But when he walked into work that monday, and you were sitting at your desk, completely unbothered, he took it upon himself to make you talk to him. 

No one else was around, except for Hotch. But his office door was closed, and Morgan wouldn’t be around for another ten minutes anyways. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

You turned around in your chair and glared at him. “Excuse me?” 

“You disappeared for a week, no word about where you were going, not even telling me you were leaving.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Not now Spence.” 

“I love you.” 

“What?” 

“I still love you.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Spencer…” 

“I’m dead serious Y/n. When you weren’t here after you spent the night, I lost my fucking mind. I thought I had lost you—again. And I wasn’t about to go through that again. I had fucked up once before and I—I thought you had realized you didn’t want to be with me anymore and you had left again.” 

You were silent as he rambled on. 

“When you left three years ago, I lost my fucking mind. I sat here, staring at your desk hoping you would materialize out of thin air just so that I could apologize to you. And then when you didn’t show up, I begged Penelope to tell me where you had run off to, so I could go and find you and beg for you to listen to me while I got on my hands and knees to beg for your forgiveness. You thought I didn’t want to marry you, but I was terrified because I thought you wouldn’t want to marry me. I mean I had just gotten sober, and I thought we were doing so well and then you brought up marriage and all I could think about was how it was another way for you to find out how much you could hate me and get sick of me since—” 

You had finally snapped out the shock you were feeling and placed your hand over his mouth. “Breathe.” 

Spencer shoved your hand off his mouth, but stayed silent, taking an over exaggerated breath to prove to you he did. 

“We can talk about this later.” 

“No.” Spencer shook his head. “We’re going to talk about this now. I want to talk about this now.” 

“Spencer…” 

“How do I know that you’re not going to just pack up and disappear again.” 

“Spencer seriously? I don’t—-”

“You don’t do that? Because we both know you do. You’ve done it twice now.”

“What do you want me to say Spence?” 

“That you still love me.” His voice was low, but his eyes were locked in on yours. “I need to know if you still love me.” 

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

The Next Week

Another Day, Another Psychopath Killer. 

Another way for you to throw yourself into the line of fire because you have always had a soft spot for teenagers. 

Someone was targeting suicidal teens, convincing them to end their own lives, merely making him complicit in their deaths. It had sent you (and JJ) reeling. Both of you had lost someone to suicide, and watching as this person preyed on vulnerable kids who deserved to live and be loved took a lot out of the both of you. 

You had a bad feeling about this case when it was first passed onto your desk, but it just got worse and worse as the week went on. If only you had figured out who it was sooner, you might have been able to save this one girl’s life. But sometimes life refuses to relent. 

The jet was silent on the way back, none of you wanting to speak and break the silence. 

Spencer sat next to you on the couch, offering a comforting presence, and nothing else. He knew you (and it bugged the shit out of you). Years of being with one another meant that he knew when you were upset, and he knew that you despised being touched while you were like this, but you hated being alone. 

It bugged you so much, but you weren’t going to say a damn thing because having him next to you while you sat and listened to your music and spiraled was exactly what you needed. 

He only offered his hand when the plane hit some turbulence, and your entire body began to shake unconsciously. It was between the two of you, and all he did was flip it, so the palm was upwards. It was an invitation that you could immediately ignore and refuse if you wanted to. 

But something in you caused your hand to drop next to his and lace your fingers through his. 

God was it so fucking warm, and soft. You wondered if he still used the lotion you had recommended to him all those years ago when he would complain to you about his hands being “gross” and “too dry”. He absolutely did. 

He managed to hide his smile when you took his hand, but he did give yours a soft squeeze, and continued to read his book, pretending that his insides weren’t aflame and his mind was anywhere but on the words in front of him. 

He didn’t turn a page for over four minutes once your hand was in his. 

And I love too that love soon might end Be known in its aching Shown in the shaking Lately of my wasteland, baby Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking Though quaking, though crazy That's wasteland, baby

That Night

“Thank you.” 

It was the first thing you had said in over five hours, including the plane ride. Once the plane had landed, you and Spencer went back to his apartment, and the two of you had sat in his living room, in silence. He didn’t mind, as long as he could keep an eye on you. 

Your mind was far far away. It was back in college. Thinking about your friend and about the life you could have lived if she was still with you. 

Spencer had left a cup of tea next to you, your favorite, and sat on the couch. You were situated in the chair by the window, staring out into the night, watching as the rain drops raced down the window and as the lights blurred together. 

He was close enough to provide you with some comfort, but far enough away to let you have whatever space you needed.

“Spence?” 

He snapped out of his head, looking towards you. Your eyes were tired, and your body reflected the same type of exhaustion. 

“Sorry. What do you need?” 

“I—.” You interrupted yourself with a yawn, cursing under your breath. “Shit sorry. I should probably go..” 

“It’s okay if you stay.” 

You looked out the window then back at him. 

“I’m not just saying that to get you into my bed—oh my god that came out wrong, I just mean I don’t want you out in that weather and I don’t really like the idea of you being alone tonight, especially after this case because—” 

“Spencer.” 

“---yeah?” 

“I’ll stay.” 

“O-oh. Good. good…” He nodded. “I can uh, take the couch and you can have the bed.” 

You rolled your eyes and smiled slightl;y. “You’re a gentleman, Doctor Reid, but I’m not kicking you out of your bed.” 

“But I—”

“Spence.” 

He huffed, crossing his arms as you just laughed softly to yourself, amused. 

“Why don’t we both go get ready. Together.” 

“Together?” 

You nodded. “Yeah Spence.” 

“Okay.” 

Spencer stood up, and offered his hand to you. 

And for the second time today, you took it. 

When the stench of the sea and the absence of green Are the death of all things that are seen and unseen Are an end but the start of all things that are left to do

And maybe the two of you would never be together ever again. Maybe you would. 

But something about the way Spencer would make your favorite tea, 

or the way he would save you the crossword puzzle on his morning newspaper since he knew how much you loved to solve as much as you could without his help, 

or when he would leave you notes on your desk, making you feel like a giddy high schooler all over again, or when he felt like a good start to something new

or when he would kiss you good morning and good night, promising you he’d be there whenever you woke up

or when he slowly got rid of things in his apartment to create space for your things as you moved in slowly 

or whenever a case was particularly rough for the both of you and he wouldn’t pester you to talk to him about it, instead offering his hand for you to take, and squeezing it, letting you know he was there for you

or the way he would take you on small vacations up to Vermont so you could go see all of your friends and escape from the world of the FBI

or the way he would never storm out of the apartment after an argument, but still give you the space you needed so you could both decompress without getting at each other's throats

or when he whispered every thing he would do for you for the rest of your lives so help him god when he thought you were asleep in his arms

or how he would whispered ‘I love you’ to you as you passed by while you both were working

or when he would never let you run off in the middle of the night because you would panic about whether or not this was all a dream, and one day he would wake up and not love you anymore

or when he got down on one knee and proclaimed his undying love for you, hoping you’d promised to love him forever in the same way he loved you, wanting to be with you, wanting to be near you always

made you feel like everything might be okay after all. 

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

[coraniaid]

It's true that the Buffy writers' answers to the closely related questions "is there a meaningful distinction between a vampire and the human being who was sired to create them?" and "when you get down to it, are vampires basically people?" clearly undergo something of a shift in the second half of the show.

This is a transformation that starts with Buffy's reluctance to stake Willow's vampire alter ego in Season 3's Doppelgangland and continues at pace with the gang's collective reaction to finding out that Harmony has "become" a vampire in Season 4. It's a process that continues as long as Harmony remains a recurring character on the show, until, by mid-Season 5, Buffy (and Buffy) has essentially undergone a complete switch in its view of vampirism. The later seasons handling of vampires are very hard to square with the speeches made by Buffy in Lie To Me ("you die, and a demon sets up a shop in your old house [...] but it's not you") or Giles to Xander [about the late and largely unlamented Jesse] in The Harvest ("you're not looking at your friend: you're looking at the thing that killed him"). Whether this is a change for the better or not is a matter for debate, but that it is a real change that happens is pretty hard to dispute.

It's also true that the writers are obviously increasingly reluctant to show their show's protagonist, the titular vampire slayer, actually going around killing vampires. At least any vampires who've had a chance to establish some sort of personality. How many of the dozen or so named, recurring vampire characters does Buffy actually kill over the course of the show? Not very many.

I make it two in Season 1 (if you're generous and count Luke as a recurring character), one in Season 2 (if you're similarly generous and count Buffy sending Angel to hell for almost three whole episodes as killing him) and ... that's it, right? Somebody other than Buffy kills Darla [=Angel], and Colin the Anointed One [=Spike], and Dalton [=the Judge], and Mr Trick [=Faith], and vamp!Willow [=wishverse!Oz, twice] and Sunday's only-named-in-the script henchvamp Tom [=the Initiative], and Sandy [=Riley], and Spike[=... well, Spike, ultimately, I guess]. Nobody ever kills Drusilla or Lyle Gorch or Harmony, all of whom make multiple appearances on the show and (un)live to the end of the series. And Angel and Spike (and even Darla, eventually and temporarily) all come back after apparently being killed.

Buffy might have a sacred calling to slay vampires, but the show is very uncomfortable about her killing non-human characters who've had a chance to establish themselves as people. Perhaps that's why the show stops having vampiric Big Bads completely after Season 2, and why Season 7 tries to introduce a whole new category of personality-free, definitely-not-people monsters to replace its existing vampires. (Perhaps not entirely succesfully, if we're being diplomatic.)

It's certainly true that the show does not have a consistent take to offer on vampire lore. Like everything supernatural in Buffy, vampires are essentially walking metaphors: and the things that they exist to represent and comment on change and evolve throughout the show's run. Buffy's worldbuilding is not very deep or rigorous.

But what's not true at all, and what I wish people would stop claiming, is the idea that Angel's awkward "well, actually..." when Buffy assures Willow in Doppelgangland that "a vampire's personality has nothing to do with the person it was" represents some sort of big departure from the show's established or implied lore up to that point. It does not. At all.

In fact, it's Buffy's claim that is at odds with everything that the show has been saying up this point. A vampire's personality has always, always been something that the show wants us to believe is informed by the personality of the person who died to create them, This goes all the way back to Season 1.

In Angel, Giles does tell Buffy flat out that "a vampire isn't a person at all", but he also says that a vampire may have "the memories, even the personality of the person that it took over". In the part of her speech from Lie To Me that I elided earlier, Buffy admits that if you're turned the resulting vampire "walks, and it talks, and it remembers your life" [and the clear implication here is that the vampire walks and talks like the original person did, otherwise what is this supposed to be saying?].

If the show's original position was that a vampire's personality had nothing to do with who they were in life, why would Giles have felt the need to tell Buffy (in Season 1's Never Kill A Boy On The First Date) that Andrew Borba had been on the run for a suspected double murder the night he died and rose as a vampire? Why would he have told her in Season 2's Bad Eggs that the Gorch brothers "massacred a village" before they were vampires? Why would he warn her in Season 3's Helpess that Zachary Kralik was a "criminally insane" serial killer even before being sired as a vampire? If the show -- or even just Giles himself -- really did have the position that a vampire's personality has nothing to do with the person they were before death, as Buffy claims in Doppelgangland (and some fans apparently believe), how would any of this make sense?

If we weren't supposed to think vampires inherited at least some part of their personality from their host then why, in The Harvest, would vampire!Jesse still be obsessed with pursuing Cordelia Chase? Why would Drusilla still be driven mad as a vampire as a result of the pyschological tortures that Angel inflicted on "her" when she was a mortal? In Halloween, why would Buffy be trying to find out more about the sort of person Angel was as a human? Why would Willow and Xander still be together in the world of The Wish?

The idea that a vampire inherits the personality of the person whose body they take over [or who they were before "becoming" a vampire, in the later seasons' parlance] isn't any kind of retcon. It's one of the few consistent takes on vampires the show had from beginning to end. Continuity of self; moral standing as a person; capacity for self-reflection and personal growth, whether or not vampires can breathe ... these are the things about vampires the show changes its stance on. But a vampire's personality was always informed by who they were in life, right from the very first pair of episodes.

(Spike and Drusilla being capable of at least some kind of romantic love and mutual jealousy in Season 2 is also not a retcon, incidentally. We saw that with Darla and Angel in Season 1 as well. And even the Master clearly felt emotions and had some sort of affection for his favorites among the vampires that worked for him. Spike and Dru do represent a significant -- and welcome! --change in the tone of the show, but they aren't somehow a walking refutation of what Giles has been telling Buffy (and through her, us) about vampires for the past year.)

I mean, I don't really have a big point to work to here, it's just that I keep seeing takes on my dash about how this particular scene represents a big change in the show's lore about vampires. And that .. just isn't true?

[brbzonedout]

Dear Lover,

It’s only been a month since you’ve last seen your girlfriend. Fall season had just began and the summer session at camp halfblood had just ended. Regardless of the fact you missed each other dearly after three months straight of practically living together, seeing each other every day, and having all of your meals together being states away was utter torture.

On top of that as a demi-god your access to technology is heavily limited since those stupid monsters found a way to track you through cellular data. Now those late night calls you so desperately wish for are limited to a goodnight text and a heart emoji on the side.

Fortunately one recognizably dull day in the beginning of July the mail was dropped off your house as it does routinely. Although this time something unexpected came. A red envelope with a small hand drawn shield on the front was left in the box and it was addressed to you.

Dear Y/N,

Hey Y/N, I’m writing this i’m the morning so good morning. I know it hasn’t been that long since we’ve seen each other in person but being away from you for this feels unnatural and talking to you through text and dm’s isn’t enough for me. I was talking to one of the year rounders at Aphrodite cabin and he gave me the idea to do this, it feels a lot more intimate than texting and it’s like journaling which reminds me of you. I’ve been missing you a lot during this week, we’re preparing for capture the flag and it’ll be weird being on the field without you regardless of what team you’re on. Speaking of battle field I finally got my spear fixed so that should be fun to have back. I also talked to Chiron about getting in contact with my mortal family like you said and we were able to find my grandparents! They still live in Arizona and said I could visit and stay for as long as I wanted. They thought I was missing this entire time, insane right? With that I was hoping before I went over there I could stop in D.C. and see you for a few days. If your people say no that’s alright but I still wanted to ask just to see. Going back to the Journaling thing I’m still doing it and you’re right it does really help with my temper I haven’t had a write up since the last time we saw each other. That’s still not entirely my fault though it was your idea to go swimming after curfew. You know it’s funny you’re such a good and bad influence on me at the same time. This is my first time writing a real letter to anyone so I hope you like it, you don’t have to write back if you don’t want to or feel like it I just wanted to try something new. I wanted to just call through Iris but you know she’s busy during the other seasons, just in case she’s not I put a few drachmas in the envelope. I love you and I miss you just get back to me some way, any way baby.

Love,

Clarisse La Rue ⚔︎

P.S.- If this is boring to read i’m sorry I didn’t really know what to say. I love you have a good day ♥

After reading the full letter tears began to well up in your eyes. This was truly unexpected of her. Some time into your friendship one of her cabin mates told you about the the letters she’d write to her mother when you found one hanging out of the drawer. But since she didn’t really want to be found the ones that she did send out never got a response, she never added a return address. Once she grew up and did start adding it let’s just say her mother still wasn’t able to write back. To have received one from her is something you never thought would happen no one was ever meant to know about this side of her. The only reason the single bunk mate knew is because she was caught writing once and the only reason she told you is because she knew Clarisse had a crush on you. She did lie about never having written one but you understood.

Suddenly while wiping the tears from your eyes the raindrops on your window and the sun shining in created a small rainbow that cast itself into your bedroom. Without hesitation you carefully reached into the envelope as not to rip it and pulled out a drachma.

“Oh Iris goddess of the rainbow, please accept my offering. Clarisse La Rue Camp Halfblood”.

With a kiss to the coin you threw it into the rainbow and in disappeared into thin air. Suddenly in the blink of an eye a tall girl with long curly brown hair appeared in the rainbow with her back turned.

“Hi..” You said smiling.

Startled she turned around abruptly, noticing who it was she smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. “So you got it huh?”

[justmystical]

The Forgotten-2

Pairing: Lucifer X Butterfly!fem!reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel x Star vs the forces of evil

Warnings: this takes place before Season 1, Alternative Universe,

One| Two |Three |Navigation

A few months has passed since you met a man under a tree, now knowing his name as Lucifer Morningstar. You instantly became friends with him because of some shared interest.

You always sneak out of the Castle because of this.Loving spending time with your new friend.

Always meeting up under the Apple tree and tell stories about your day. Well sometimes there were day's he didn't show up and you never questioned it , after all he didn't say anything about his life and you didn't tell about yours. Only about neutral things.

Another days ,you just got back from the Earth Dimension and still no sign of your Beloved friend Lucifer.

You sighed

"Princess (Name) Butterfly!" You heard someone call out , you turned around to see Glossaryck and felt sweat drip down on your face.

"hey Glossaryck"you smiled awkwardly and did gunfingers to him. You didn't attend your lessons today and ran away to meet up with Lucifer unfortunately he wasn't there.

"running away are we Your Highness? learning magic is important as Princess of Mewni blah blah"he said but the end you felt your ears shut down to see your sister and you heard Glossaryck sigh

"Eclipsa!"you said running and waving hand to her as Glossaryck,She smiled when she spotted you.

"hello (Name)"You smile faltered, Your sister doesn't call you by your name,only your Nickname that was given to you by your Father.

"My Queen"Glossaryck bowed

"ahh Glossaryck can you give some privacy for a moment?"he looked at you with hesitation "Don't worry Glossaryck I won't run off somewhere " you explained and he sighed but nodded.

As Glossaryck left ,you and your sister were alone in the hallway.

"ok,tell me what got you down?"you saw a her having an inner battle in her head.

"what do you mean (Name)?"she asked faking her confusion.

"Eclipse, I'm your Little sister and one of your closest friends . infact your only friend so , i know when something upsets you" You told her and she bit her lip. You waited patiently for answer.

"well umm , it's just that..."she hesitated "as you know our family has the tradition to pass the wand down to an heir and-"

"YOUR PREGNANT?!?"You cut her off and saw her laughed.

"heaven's no! But the people were wondering when will there be introduce to another Princess in the Palace..."

"A new heir...?"you questioned

"wait with Shastacan?"you saw her face pale.

"SHASTACAN?!"

"well who else would be..."

"uhh, he's such a narcissist!" You ranted about how bad her Husband is and Eclipsa face grew paler than before.

You noticed this and stopped "Sorry Eclipse..."you felt bad for her she didn't even want to marry Shastacan but it was your mother's dying wish.

After that, you were about to go Glossaryck for your lessons but you passed a familiar room.

The Rooms of Queen Tapestry.. eh you didn't really know what this was room was called.

You walked in, seeing all of your ancestors and you uncle,your uncle became king when you mother died. Since you and Eclipsa are still very young,he took over for awhile. Next to his was...

Your Mother.. Solaria the Monster Carver.

You did miss you mother Truly, you didn't even felt Keekee transform and now she was comforting you.

"mother, hopefully you had a good reason for Eclipse to marry Shastacan,right?"you told her but no one answered.

You felt bad when you found out about this dying wish of your mother. You knew Eclipsa was inlove with someone else but didn't know who?

You wanted your sister to marry and have children with someone she loves, not someone who she was forced with. You walked around to see your sister's Tapestry about to be begin.

A Lot of people were confused of why it hasn't even begun yet when Eclipsa became Queen. You eyes widened as it as being made.

Does this mean Eclipsa's fate has been written?

Keekee followed you as you meet up with Glossaryck, you were learning some spells and read about a butterfly form.

"i thought we we're done with that mewberty butterfly form ?" You asked.

"that is , well how do i explain this to...ehh basically different from Mewberty and it's more powerful when you are in this form" Glossaryck explained.

More powerful?

Can only unlock in time of need?

You feel like this could help you defend your sister from monsters."I'll keep you safe Eclipse..."you muttered

"huh?"

"nothing!"

After another day you snuck out and went back to earth.

And finally you saw him

"Lucifer Morningstar! Where have you been?!"he heard you and flinched.

"hey n/n"he smiled awkwardly as you walked to him with arms crossed on your chest.

"okay before you kill me..."he said grabbing something from his bag and it was a...

Duck?

"i was making this for you,i made it to looked like you a little also putting some details like the marks on your cheeks-" you cut him off with a hug.

"thanks Luci"he was stunned and now very red.

"y-your w-welcome"he stutter and tried to hides his blushing face from you.

"are you blushing?"

"am not"

"yes you are~"

"stop~"

"hehe"

A/n: sorry if its short , and has little Lucifer content but don't worry in the future 🥹

[invissimp]

Yule Blues

Draco malfoy x reader

Summary: Confusion during the holiday season wasnt something you wanted to deal with especially with the Yule Ball in a few weeks.

Snow. Thats always how you knew Christmas was around the corner this year the first snow falls just so happened to be on a trip to Hogsmeade.

Although you were walking with Hermione, Ron, and Harry your plan was to meet up with Draco at the three broomsticks halfway through the visit.

Draco usually didn't even bother trying to get you from your house friends mainly because they were overprotective of you since your best friend is their "rival".

So that's why you decided it would just be better meeting him somewhere other than him trying to find you in the small village.

Glancing towards the left seeing Ron looking at Hermione while she was explaining how the Yule ball was going to work. On your right was Harry since he and Ron weren't really on 'talking terms'.

Although you felt bad for Hermione for leaving her alone with Harry and Ron while they weren't talking to each other. The other part of you was happy to finally visit the three broomsticks with Draco since last year you only did once.

Glancing down at your watch almost every 3 minutes to see if it was time to go see Draco. Although there was a good chance he was already there you still didn't want to leave your friends so soon.

"You know we're not stopping you from seeing Malfoy right?" Your red headed friend asked.

Taken aback from his niceness towards Draco even if it was hard to make a comment about Draco mean Ron always found a way to.

"You guys wouldn't mind if I went ahead and left to go see him?" You asked

The two boys just nodded their heads while Hermione let out a simple yes to the question. Before they could even say bye you were gone heading towards the three broomsticks.

Bringing your gold and red scarf up to your nose since it was still a couple minutes walk. Glancing around to see people from different houses and schools walking into each store wanting to see what was in each one, especially the third years.

Smiling to yourself thinking of how last year Draco mentioned in one of his letters towards you during the summer he said that he wanted to be the first one to take you to all the stores. (you both knew that wouldn't happen) He really did enjoy your company.

Ron would always joke that he liked you more than his own housemates and he fancies you.

You had always denied the first part but the second half is something you wished to be true since in all honesty you were completely in love with Draco Malfoy. Would he return your feelings? Most likely not he probably fancies Pansy Parkinson.

Shaking your head to get out of your thoughts only to be met by a Durmstrang student, Steven Bottom. There had been rumors about his plan to ask you to the Yule ball. If worse comes to worse then yeah you would go with him. Although you would prefer to go with a boy from a slytherin house.

“Ah Y/N what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” The Durmstrang student said with a grin.

You always knew you were somewhat short compared to your friends, especially Ron and Draco but Steven was a good 6’4(1.9 meters). Smiling up at him “Nice to see you as well Steven.”

Although his name didn’t get called from the goblet you knew he put it in there. You two had been in the library a couple times so you can explain to him what all happens at Hogwarts and just to hang out with someone new to school.

Although you had been walking by yourself to the three broomsticks, why not walk with Steven. “Care to walk with me?” 

Nodding his head to your question already following you.

“So has anyone asked you to the Ball yet, i’m sure their has to be some people that want to go with you?” The Bulgarian asked with just the slightest hint of desperation in his voice.

Now the smile on your face has went down a little but not by a whole lot “Yeah a couple people have but ive said no to all of them I been waiting to be asked by a certain person.”

Now that definitely caught his attention “So no date yet just making sure?”

Shaking your head for a no to his question while glancing up at him just to see him wearing the same grin as he had before when you first ran into him today.

Seeing that you were only about a minute away from your destination was a plus since you really didn't want to keep this conversation going and end up rejecting Steven just to wait for a boy who won't even ask you.

Taking a deep breath of oxygen before asking you “So can I be that certain person to ask you to the Yule ball I mean we can have a great time there and it wont be a waste of your…” Draining out his rambling once the three broomsticks came into sight and thankfully Blasie was outside.

“Bloody hell Y/N your finally here I thought you werent going to show and then I would have to deal with a pissed Draco all night which is NOT on my bucket list.” The slytherin said warning that Draco might be in a bad mood.

Glancing down at your watch to see that Steven had slowed your walk down just by talking to you and now the trip was a little over halfway. Looking up at Steven to see disappointment in his eyes made you feel bad a tad bit, just a tad.

“We can finish this conversations some other time yeah?” you said more like a statement than question before walking into the three broomsticks.

This place has never failed to feel welcoming, hell even the most sad human could walk in here and be cheerful just for the day. Looking around to see Madam Rosmerta had put up the Christmas trees and decorations. 

Obviously it was busy since it was the first day, darting your eyes around looking for the boy youve been waiting to see all day. Finding him in the back corner which you couldn't really see because of one of the many Christmas trees.

Smiling softly at him, you knew he had been looking at you since you've walked into pub. Taking in his appearance his gloves and scarf had been on the table corner and your seat across from him had already been pulled out for you to sit in.

Walking over to the table and pulling off you gloves. 

“Well look who finally decided to show up only 10 minutes late.” The seeker said sarcastically while moving your gloves over on the table.

Glaring at him “I could just leave right now and never talk to you again.” You said with a serious face on.

Knowing you was just lying to him he rolled his eyes. That was his specialty knowing your humor and personality better than anyone could.

Sitting down finally after almost 2 hours of walking.

—

Talking with Draco made time fly by fast for sure it had only felt like 5 minutes but in reality a hour and half. That means only about a half hour longer to talk to him.

“So what was you and Bottom talking about in the street he seemed pretty happy about it before you walked away?” Draco asked

Confused on how he would know but Draco read your face and pointed towards the window that had a perfect view of where you and Steven were talking.

“Oh he was asking me about the Yule Ball and if I have a date yet to it.” you replied softly, now that was something that caught Dracos attention he doubted he wouldnt know if you were going with someone but you never know.

“So are you?” He asked trying not to seem to interested, shaking your head a no “Just waiting for a certain someone to ask me but if he doesnt then I might go with Steven.” 

No way you could ever go with someone but Draco, seeing you even talk to someone else gets him mad enough but dancing would be another level of madness. 

Nodding his head to your response. “So have you been asked or ask anyone yet?” You said curiously with just a hint of hopefulness in your eyes.

Draco knew lying was terrible, although hes done it before he hated doing it to people he cared about(even though it was just you and his mom). Draco didnt know why he said what he said it just kinda came out of his mouth. “Im going with Pansy I also asked her.”

Looking at your eyes to see the hopefulness fall out of them and be met with sadness and a weak “Oh.”

Now the converstation had gotten awkward enough to the point you might as well just walk away.

Which is exactly what you did. Before Draco could even realize it, you had gotten up and left the pub leaving him behind with your gloves.

———

Trees. Christmas trees to be exact had been put up all around the school to celebrate the spirit. Each student also got to make a ornament each year to put on a tree.

Some were common like a snowflake, bulbs with intials on it. The weasley twins always did magic on theirs to make it extra special and stand out.

This year Heromione made hers a cat with whiskers that move every few minutes. Ron’s was a simple broomstick that he had Hermione make it where it can fly around to different trees each day.

You never put much thought into your ornament since you’d only see it for a week and a half. But this year you and Draco planned on doing matching ones. His was to be a black swan and yours a white one.

It was your mission to avoid him of course but that didn’t stop you from still fulfilling your part of the plan. It was late at night and Ron requested food from the kitchen, Harry offered to come with you but you denied since it was better for just one person to get caught and not two just in case.

Knowing that the chances of running into anybody were slim and Harry had already checked the Marauders Map before you had gone out to make sure Flich wasn’t anywhere around.

Stepping foot into the kitchen to see just a few elves around. Requesting the food that Ron and Harry wanted along with a few drinks.

Hermione told you to make it quick since their was no warning if any teacher decided to take a stroll around the halls. Getting the food from the elves and responding with a small “thank you” before walking up and out into the hall.

Walking back towards the Common room felt even longer, the longest thing that you’ve experienced even potions or charms. It was bound to happen after all, footsteps were heard from behind you. Here comes detention for a week.

“Y/N.”

You could recognize that voice from anywhere, the one where you heard for weeks but haven’t had a conversation with. Draco Malfoys voice.

The inner gryffindor in you was not coming out, all you wanted to do was run away and not stop to talk to Draco.

Before your plan to run away could happen the slytherin done turned you around to face him.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He stated like it was simple knowledge. If anyone else saw him they would say he looked angry or annoyed which he did. But his eyes had just a hint of sadness in them.

Over the years knowing Draco’s facial expressions have gotten easier, enough where you can see across the great hall with one glance to know if he was going to have a good or bad day. Which was him making fun of Harry or leaving his comments aside.

Deciding to test your luck with him and see if you can get away with it. “No I havent just been busy with the Ball and stuff like that.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s the truth.”

“You know I can read you like a book right?”

Having no comeback to that and just looking at him. It was bound to happen eventually knowing that he would talk to you. This wasn’t one of the ways you pictured him finding you alone.

“Why did you leave out of the blue in hogs meade after I talked about the Yule ball?”

Well he definitely got straight to the point for once, Draco wasn’t known for that usually everyone would have to guess about what was wrong with him or what he was trying to say.

Not right now though, not when you his bestfriend, crush had been avoiding him for weeks now even after he planned on asking you out that same day and just say it was a joke about Pansy.

Lost at words to respond to him, he looked as though he was going to say something. You couldn’t bare to hear it, how he was going to make fun of you about not having a date.

So you ran. Ran as fast as you could, faster than when you pranked Ron. Running down the hallways to stop by the fat lady portrait, you could hear Draco’s faint footsteps in the background.

Saying the password and slamming the portrait shut to be met with Harry, Ron and Hermione all staring at you with wide eyes.

“I like draco Malfoy.”

————

Part 2

[suzannahnatters]

Having shared my RINGS OF POWER s2 eulogy, and while assuring you all that I am also mourning the loss of one of the best things about the show, I would also like to take a moment to defend the decisions being made by the showrunners and writers here.

Before I get started, I just want to acknowledge the members of my writers' group. This post owes much to our discussions. Anyway, when it comes to Adar's death, there are three reasons why I'm not calling his death pointless, or blaming the showrunners for bad writing. The overall reason is this: Adar represents the show's efforts to treat Orcs like people. In this sense, his character was a blazing success. Look at us all, with a hopeless crush on an Orc? Success.

But let's go a bit deeper.

SIMON TOLKIEN'S EXECUTIVE MEDDLING

The fact that Simon Tolkien made an EXCELLENT call in asking the showrunners to keep Adar around for an extra season...still doesn't stop what he did from being executive meddling, or from causing tricky ramifications in the second season. Adar was a first-season antagonist, brilliantly well-written, but ultimately only intended to be a supporting character. The decision to keep him on, suddenly made him more charismatic, more mysterious, and more sympathetic. Given how he'd been set up as a warm-up baddie...season 2 suddenly turned around and made us think he was here to stay. The writers had cornered themselves: on the Tolkien Estate's behest, they had a dark horse who was about to run away with the show. I'm not going to fault them for going ahead with their original plan, because they would have had to retool subsequent seasons massively in order to fit in an Adar redemption arc, and you can't necessarily do that when the whole arc of your story is already planned.

JRR TOLKIEN'S LEGACY

All of us have written things we're not proud of. JRR Tolkien wrote a story world with something problematic hard-baked into the foundations: an entire race of beings for whom genetics determined ethics. Can you even imagine what it must have taken for him to get to the end of a long life spent in the dedicated pursuit of this story world, and to have the courage to admit that he might have been wrong? That really isn't something most authors are capable of. When Peter Jackson went to make LOTR and HOBBIT into movies, he did nothing to scrutinise this issue. His Orcs are flat: monstrous, comic, but never people.

TROP challenged that, and exercised significant skill, care, and wisdom in doing so. But they are still attempting a faithful adaptation of Tolkien's source material. We know where this story is going. Galadriel will end up in Lorien with her elf wifeguy. The Orcs will fall under Sauron's dominion and become his tools, enslaved to his will with the Ring. I did fantasise about Adar being Celeborn, and possibly some of his "children" getting to nope out of Sauron's dominion or even be turned into Elves. But we now know that was never on the table. The Orcs were always meant to fall to the Enemy. But here's the point: for the first time in the history of Tolkien works and adaptations, TROP allowed them the dignity of a fall. Going forward in the show, the Orcs won't be monstrous cannon fodder: they'll be people we knew, people we were pulling for, people whose deaths matter. They are, not a waste, but a tragedy.

TOLKIENIAN TRAGEDY

Look...there's nothing more Tolkienian than a beautiful disaster of a man who dies far too early.

And yes, I know that it's something we've seen before and wish storytellers would move away from - the Moment of Grace that never becomes anything more than a Moment. The villain who has a five minute redemption, then dies conveniently so that the heroes never have to work through the messy business of forgiveness and accountability (although I always did wonder how it would play to see a redeemed Adar, possibly Celeborn, living the rest of his life as a redeemed Uruk among people who hold an undying enmity with his children). It's happened so often that when I, Suzannah Rowntree, sit down to write a six book series where the irredeemable villain has to live and build a new and more accountable life for himself, there's startlingly little template for it, at least in Western media. We live in times that are starved for happy endings and genuine redemption arcs. I wanted so badly for Adar and his "children" to be blessed, and not cursed, by this narrative. So I get the rage. I get the grief.

But tragedy is still a valid art form. Again, all this is a function of the show successfully making the Orcs matter. And the reason the Orcs needed to matter is because they are about to be enslaved to Sauron. They were so close. They genuinely could have been good. Adar could have led them into an alliance with the Elves against their enemy - but instead, just like Celebrimbor, just like Galadriel, they are deceived by him. They turn to him out of fear that their father figure is treating them like cannon fodder, and now they have no one to advocate for them. And that's the tragedy of their situation.

We might all be a little tired of tragedy, but it's still valid, especially insofar as it never, ever forgets to treat its characters like people. Did the writers have to choose tragedy? No. Adar might have lived and undergone a redemption arc.

But the writers didn't have to give Adar a redemption arc, either. Any more than they had to so deeply humanise the Orcs and their father. It's not perfect writing, but it's not bad writing, either. Indeed, for a Tolkien adaptation trying to both honour the author's work and scrutinise his failings, in my opinion it's doing brilliantly.

And...honestly, I'm kind of happy that they left me wanting more, and better, for Adar. Because now I get to write that story myself.

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 7 EPISODE 05 || SINGAPORE ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

“Will you walk with me?”She hesitated for a moment.

The flame in her eyes had not gone out, but it burned lower now; there were other things there—caution, mild distress, and what he thought was pride. He was surprised that he should see them so clearly. It was as though she were made of glass.“I—the children,” she blurted, half turning toward the house.“It doesna matter,” he said. “I only—” A dribble of blood from one nostril stopped him, and he paused to wipe the back of his hand across his upper lip. He took the two steps necessary to bring them within touching distance, though he was careful not to touch her.“I wished to say to you that I am sorry,” he said formally, in Mohawk. “That I could not give you children. And that I am glad you have them.”A lovely warm flush rose in her cheeks, and he saw the pride in her overcome the distress.“May I see them?” he asked, surprising himself as much as her.She wavered for an instant, but then turned and went into the house. He sat on a stone wall, waiting, and she returned a few moments later with a small boy, maybe five years old, and a girl of three or so in short plaits, who looked gravely at him and sucked her fist.Blood had run down the back of his throat; it felt raw and tasted of iron.

Now and then on his journey, he’d gone carefully over the explanation Auntie Claire had given him. Not with any notion of telling it to Emily; it could mean nothing to her—he barely understood it himself. Only, maybe, as some shield against this moment, seeing her with the children he could not give her.“Call it fate,” Claire had said, looking at him with a hawk’s eye, the one that sees from far above, so far above, maybe, that what seems mercilessness is truly compassion. “Or call it bad luck. But it wasn’t your fault. Or hers.”“Come here,” he said in Mohawk, putting out a hand to the little boy. The boy glanced at his mother, but then came to him, looking up in curiosity to his face.“I see you in his face,” he said softly to her, speaking English. “And in his hands,” he added in Mohawk, taking the child’s hands—so amazingly small—in his own. It was true: the boy had her hands, fine-boned and supple; they curled up like sleeping mice in his palms, then the fingers sprang out like a spider’s legs and the boy giggled. He laughed, too, closed his own hands swiftly on the boy’s, like a bear gulping a pair of trout, making the child shriek, then let go.“Are you happy?” he asked her.“Yes,” she said softly. She looked down, not meeting his eyes, and he knew it was because she would answer honestly but did not wish to see if her answer hurt him. He put a hand under her chin—her skin was so soft!—and lifted her face to him.“Are you happy?” he asked again, and smiled a little as he said it.“Yes,” she said again. But then gave a small sigh, and her own hand touched his face at last, light as a moth’s wing. “But sometimes I miss you, Ian.” There was nothing wrong with her accent, but his Scots name sounded impossibly exotic on her tongue—it always had.He felt a lump in his throat, but kept the faint smile on his face.“I see you dinna ask me whether I’m happy,” he said, and could have kicked himself.She gave him a quick look, direct as a knife point.“I have eyes,” she said, very simply.There was a silence between them. He looked away but could feel her there, breathing. Ripe. Soft. He felt her softening further, opening. She had been wise not to go into the garden with him. Here, with her son playing in the dirt near her feet, it was safe. For her, at least.“Do you mean to stay?” she asked at last, and he shook his head.“I am going to Scotland,” he said.“You will take a wife among your own people.” There was relief in that, but regret, too.“Are your people no longer my own?” he asked, with a flash of fierceness. “They washed the white blood from my body in the river—you were there.”

I was there.”She looked at him for a long time, searching his face. Likely enough that she would never see him again; did she seek to remember him, or was she looking for something in his features, he wondered?The latter. She turned abruptly, raising a hand to him to wait, and disappeared into the house.The little girl ran after her, not wanting to stay with the stranger, but the little boy lingered, interested.

“Are you Wolf’s Brother?”“I am, aye. And you?”“They call me Digger.” It was a child’s sort of name, used for convenience until the person’s real name should declare itself in some way. Ian nodded, and they remained a few minutes, looking each other over with interest, but with no sense of awkwardness between them.“She who is mother’s mother to my mother,” Digger said quite suddenly. “She talked about you. To me.”“She did?” said Ian, startled. That would be Tewaktenyonh. A great woman, head of the Women’s Council at Snaketown—and the person who had sent him away.“Does Tewaktenyonh still live?” he asked, curious.“Oh, yes. She’s older than the mountains,” the little boy answered seriously. “She has only two teeth left, but she still eats.”Ian smiled at that.“Good. What did she say to you of me?”The boy screwed up his face, recollecting the words.“She said I was the child of your spirit but I should not say so to my father.”Ian felt the blow of that, harder than any the child’s father had dealt him, and couldn’t speak for a moment.“Aye, I dinna think ye should say so, either,” he said, when words returned to him. He repeated the sentiment in Mohawk, in case the boy might not have understood English, and the child nodded, tranquil.“Will I be with you, sometime?” he asked, only vaguely interested in the answer.

A lizard had come out onto the stone wall to bask, and his eyes were fixed on it.Ian forced his own words to be casual.“If I live.”The boy’s eyes were narrowed, watching the lizard, and the tiny right hand twitched, just a little. The distance was too far, though; he knew it, and glanced at Ian, who was closer. Ian cut his eyes at the lizard without moving, then looked back at the boy and agreement sprang up between them. Don’t move, his eyes warned, and the boy seemed to cease breathing.

It didn’t do to think in such situations. Without pausing to draw breath, he snatched, and the lizard was in his hand, astonished and thrashing.The little boy chortled and hopped up and down, clapping his hands with glee, then held them out for the lizard, which he received with the greatest concentration, folding his hands about it so that it might not escape.“And what will ye do with him?” Ian asked, smiling.The boy held the lizard up to his face, peering at it intently, and his brow furrowed in thought.“I will name him,” he said at last. “Then he will be mine and bless me when I see him again.” He brought the lizard up, eyeball to eyeball, and each stared unblinking at the other.“Your name is Bob,” the boy declared at last in English, and with great ceremony set the lizard on the ground. Bob leapt from his hands and disappeared under a log.“A verra good name,” Ian said gravely. His bruised ribs hurt with the need not to laugh, but the urge vanished in the next moment, as the distant door opened and Emily came out, a bundle in her arms.She came up to him and presented him with a child, swaddled and bound to a cradleboard, in much the same way he had presented the lizard to Digger.“This is my second daughter,” she said, shyly proud. “Will you choose her name?”He was moved, and touched Emily’s hand, very lightly, before taking the cradleboard onto his knee and looking searchingly into the tiny face. She could not have given him greater honor, this permanent mark of the feeling she had once held for him—still might hold for him.But as he looked at the little girl—she regarded him with round, serious eyes, taking in this new manifestation of her personal landscape—a conviction took root in him. He didn’t question it; it was simply there, and undeniable.“Thank you,” he said, and smiled at Emily with great affection. He laid his hand—huge, and rough with callus and the nicks of living—on the tiny, perfect, soft-haired head.

“I will bless all your children wi’ the blessings of Bride and of Michael.” He lifted his hand then, and reaching out, drew Digger to him. “But this one is mine to name.” Her face went quite blank with astonishment, and she looked quickly from him to her son and back. She swallowed visibly, unsure—but it didn’t matter; he was sure.

“Your name is Swiftest of Lizards,” he said, in Mohawk. The Swiftest of Lizards thought for a minute, then nodded, pleased, and with a laugh of pure delight, darted away.

~ AN ECHO IN THE BONE

[auras-moonstone]

Hi! Hru? I love your stories. This is my first request ever/ Could you write Ethan Landry x YN, where they used to date like in highschool but one of them moved countries, maybe Ethan for his acting career and when he comes back he has a new girlfriend but never really forgot Y/N, and maybe she’s still waiting for him? I love the idea of first love never forgotten type of fic! :)

hii, i’m doing good, hope you are too! you sent me this request ages ago i’m so sorry😫 but i actually really love this little story, hope you enjoy it too<3

‘tis the damn season — jack champion

word count: 3,225 (i did not realize it was this long i’m so sorry)

pairing: jack champion x fem!reader

summary: jack and y/n broke up before he left for la, and now that he is back in his hometown for the weekend, they decide it to call it even.

based on: dorothea and ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift

WHEN JACK HAD TO MOVE OUT OF TOWN TO PERSUE HIS ACTING CAREER, HE DECIDED TO END THINGS WITH Y/N. His schedule would be too full and there wouldn’t be enough time for a long-distance relationship. Besides, he knew it wouldn’t be fair for Y/N to adjust to his agenda.

Y/N knew she was going to wait for him, and a tiny part of her hoped he would come back to her. So she waited, but the texts and calls stopped coming, and soon she realized it had been wishful thinking.

But even though Y/N was constantly telling herself she needed to move on, she couldn’t find herself to do it. Whenever a boy would ask her out, she would decline every time. She felt her friends’ judging stares throughout every rejection—they knew what she was doing, she was holding onto her hope.

Two years after Jack left, when the pictures of him with his model girlfriend invaded her timeline, she decided she had had enough. She couldn’t be hanging onto a high school relationship, so she started saying yes instead of no.

But truth to be told, she absentmindedly kept comparing every boy to Jack and obviously that was a winless fight because none of them had his shiny smile, or his cute laugh, or perfect hair, or gorgeous deep brown eyes and above all, none made her stomach flush the way the mere thought of Jack did. In short, Y/N was fooling herself into thinking she wasn’t still caught up in Jack, pretending her heart didn’t still belong to the guy she had loved at the age of sixteen.

She wondered if he ever stopped and think about her, about the times they spent together making a lark out of the misery. Y/N didn’t think so, he had new shiny friends now, why would his thoughts be on the girl from the boring town he once used to live in?

Little did she know, his thoughts always lead to her and his hometown. He loved his job, and the people he met were not that bad, but he missed the quietness, the homey feeling that the small town gave, his real friends and Y/N. God knows he tried to get over her, but the memories of him and Y/N lingered like bad perfume and he could ran only so far from them.

As soon as Jack stepped foot in his hometown again, the familiarity embraced him like an old friend. There was this warm feeling in his heart he had missed so much.

“I’m going for a walk by the beach” he told his mom, as he exited the house.

The soft sand tickled his feet and the salt air filled his nostrils as he watched the rough waves hit the shore, making a thunderous sound so pleasing he could fall asleep to it.

He remembered the times when he and Y/N would lay there, taking in the view and letting their bodies be surrounded by the peacefulness as their intertwined hands rested in the space between their bodies.

Jack saw the silhouette of a girl sitting alone and once he was close enough, his heart dropped when he recognized her profile. “Y/N?”

Her shoulders stiffened and her head raised slowly. Three emotions were painted on her face in the span of three seconds—first it was shock, then uncertainty and then realisation.

“Jack?” she asked breathlessly and the sound of her voice sent chills all over his body. It’s been four years since the last time he had heard his name coming from her sweet lips, and it felt as heartwarming as being wrapped in a cozy blanket by the fire.

“Hi… I’m back for the weekend” he smiled widely.

Her eyes dropped to focus on her favorite smile she had missed so much, the one that, even after years, was still so shiny and bright that made her insides melt.

She smiled for a few seconds, and Jack’s world lit up again. But then, something sinked in, and her face turned emotionally void. The eyes that stared back at him were cold, the kind that fogs up glasses. “I have to go to work.” her tone stung like icy skin being touched by hot water.

Jack watched her leave with an ache in his heart, feeling the coldness irradiating off her as she passed by him.

Y/N WAS GLAD THAT THERE WASN’T MUCH ACTIVITY ON THE RECORD SHOP THAT DAY. The scene at the beach left her shocked, she had imagined seeing Jack again so many times in her mind, yet the ache she had felt when he smiled at her was collosal. Did he think he could just melt her heart with that dangerous weapon he carried on his face and everything would suddenly be okay? That his excruciatingly killer grin would amend the fact that he had completely cut her off his life for four years?

What was worse was that she almost felt for it. He had caught her off guard. She never imagined he would actually come back to town. And he looked so dreamy, so Hollywood, so untouchable. The screen in where she was forced to watch his life through didn’t do him any justice. He had gotten taller, he didn’t have his cute curls anymore—instead, he had a mullet haircut that fitted him so well and made his jaw look sharper. And his shoulders and biceps? He shouldn’t be allowed to wear that black tank top he had on that day, because it showed the muscles he had gained with his intense working outs and it was pretty distracting. Unfair.

The drooling stopped when she heard the bell ring, indicating someone had just entered the shop. And in walked the superstar, with his big wide black glasses, looking magnificent. And he had the black tank top that clung to his firm chest as if it was soaked, which made Y/N sigh. You have to be strong, she said to herself.

“What are you doing here?” she asked harshly.

“I’m looking for some vinyls.” he shrugged. “Where are the ABBA albums?”

“Jeez, I don’t know, maybe on the shelf with the big A?” she rested her elbows on the counter she was sitting behind.

Jack held back a laugh “Is this how you always treat your clients? Because if then, it makes sense why this place is deserted.”

“No, this treatment is only reserved for you.” she replied with a fake smile. “And this place is always full of people. Not that you would know, because you don’t live here.”

“And the shots have been finally fired.” Jack said, putting the vinyls back in place. “You’re still mad I left town, that I left you.” he stated, getting close to her and placing his forearms on the counter, making them be eye-level.

Y/N’s eyes softened a bit. “Watching you leave had to be one of the toughest things I ever witnessed, but no. I could never ever be mad at you for following your dreams, I thought you knew that.”

He reminisced the day he told her he was leaving to LA. She had a sad smile on her face, but her eyes showed him nothing but understanding and support.

“That’s amazing, Jack. You have wanted to do this for so long, and you’re so talented. You’re going to be a stellar actor and will have lots of fans, I can picture it.”

“You think so?” he had asked with a hopeful smile, hugging her waist tightly while they sat next to each other in her bed.

“I know so.” she corrected, raising her head to make their lips brush so she could whisper, “I’ll always be your number one fan, though.”

“I love you”

“I love you too, Jack.”

“Are you still my number one fan?” Jack asked, his voice filled with nostalgia and love.

“Always.” Y/N smiled truthfully. She had watched every movie he had done, and may have shed a few tears every time he appeared on the screen. Tears of proudness from how far he had gotten and also of sadness, because she wasn’t a part of his life anymore so she couldn’t celebrate his success with him.

“Then why are you being so cold?” Jack asked, seeming genuinely lost.

“Are you really asking me that, Jack?” Y/N scoffed in disbelief. “Because you fucking stopped talking to me. You kept in touch with everyone but me, and I felt so devastated.”

“Because the more I talked to you, the more homesick I felt.” Jack confessed, looking down at their hands that were only inches away from each other. “I wanted so bad to reply to you when you reached out, I almost did every time, but I just couldn’t. It hurt too much.”

“We were best friends before we started dating, and when you cut me off your life, I lost my best friend and the boy I loved. I couldn’t move on, I felt so lonely without you.”

Jack rounded the counter and stood next to her. He wanted to pulled her into his chest and patch up the wounds with a hug. “Can we call it even for the weekend?”

“I don’t know, Jack. I don’t know if I can say goodbye to you again.” the intensity and curiosity of his eyes made her feel lightweight, and maybe that’s why the words spilled out on their own. “I still love you like the very first day.”

Jack swore he could cry from relief. She still loved him. After all those years away from each other. “God, I still love you too. You have no idea how much.”

Their foreheads were pressed together, and their lips were close enough that if they took one step forward, they would touch. “You have a girlfriend, Jack.”

Jack sighed, and cursed himself. Taking a step back, he looked her in the eyes. “We don’t have feelings for each other, I want you to know that. We are together because… I don’t know, our team says we look good on camera.”

The weight on her heart lifted, and she tried hard not to smile. “Okay, good to know.”

“Do you have a boyfriend? Or are you seeing someone?”

Y/N laughed, remembering all her date failures. “Nope”

“Have you dated someone since we broke up?” as soon as the question left his mouth, he regretted it.

“I have gone on a couple of dates, but no. I haven’t even kissed anyone- quit smiling, jackass” she poked him in the rib, making him squeak. “I’m still mad at you, but I guess we can call it even for the weekend.”

“Yeah? Will you be mine for the weekend?” Jack smirked.

Y/N gazed at his lips, totally hypnotised by them. “Rules!” she blurted out. “We need rules. No flirting, no hugging, no touching, no kissing. We are friends, okay?”

He backed her up against the counter, both arms on each side of her body, caging her in. She threw him a warning glance. “What? I’m not touching” he said innocently. “Either way, this friend thing and your rules won’t work.”

“Why? Enlighten me” Y/N frowned.

“We love each other, and we haven’t kissed in four years. Tension, babe, we can’t fight it for long”

“Those kinds of nicknames are also forbidden” Y/N said. “And speak for yourself, I’m so in control of my actions you don’t even know. I can fight the tension like a pro”

“Challenge accepted. I promise you that by the end of the weekend, when you are begging me to kiss you, I won’t mock you much”

Y/N raised on her toes, their noses almost bumping. “We both know you’ll be the one asking for that kiss first. And you’ll have to leave town defeated, cause I’m not giving in, Jack.”

Holy shit, I’m fucked, Jack thought as he stared open mouthed at the girl in front of him. Confidence was her best look and his newfound weakness.

JACK STOOD LOOKING LIKE A ZOMBIE ON THE PORCH OF HIS HOUSE, AND Y/N WAS EXACTLY HIS JUXTAPOSITION. Her eyes were a bit red, but other than that she glowed way too much for a person who was woken up at 6AM.

“What’s wrong, Hollywood? Too early for you?” Y/N joked when she arrived to the stairs of his house.

“Shut the fuck up.” he growled.

“Oh, someone’s grumpy this morning.” Y/N teased him. “Come on” she said, smiling at him as she extended her hand. “I made you brownies.”

Jack took her hand in an instant, making Y/N laugh, thinking she convinced him with the brownies. But he didn’t care about them, as long as Y/N kept smiling at him like that, he would followed her wherever she strayed.

Y/N drove the Jeep towards the beach, and Jack couldn’t even hide how mesmerised he was by the sight of the wind blowing her hair as she sang her lungs out to I Think He Knows by Taylor Swift.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Jack couldn’t help saying, making her look at him. “I’m not even flirting, I’m just stating a fact—you are so gorgeous.”

She blushed heavily and Jack smiled proudly. The fact that she still loved him felt surreal to him. “So are you, pretty boy.”

When they arrived to the isolated beach, they set a big blanket on the floor. As they ate their breakfast, they watch the sunrise unfold in front of their eyes. Once the daylight embraced them, they looked at each other and smiled softly. It was their last day together, the next day, in the morning, Jack would be going back to LA and leave her behind once again. There was sadness lingering in the air, but none of them dared to acknowledge it and ruin the beautiful mood.

“Can I hug you?” Jack asked, the need to wrap his arms around her frame was so intense that he had caught his limbs absentmindedly reaching towards her more times than he’d like to admit.

“I said no hugging” she answered, trying to sound firm, but Y/N wanted his arms around her as much as he did.

“Yeah, but this is… a friendly hug. Friendly hugs are permitted, right?”

“Sure, whatever” she nodded, and they both let the lie slide.

She tangled her arms around his waist and settled her head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeats. Jack’s head rested on the crook of her neck, his long eyelashes tickling her skin, and his long arms covered her whole back and squished her more against his frame, making her laugh.

“Look at you, already bending the rules. Next thing you know, you’ll be asking me to kiss you” Jack muttered.

Her heart stuttered, maybe he wasn’t wrong. But she was too proud to give up so she said, “In your dreams, Champion.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely in those.” he said, and Y/N felt the outline of his smile on her naked shoulder. How was she going to go back to being without his presence again?

ON THE AFTERNOON, Y/N WAS READY TO TAKE A MUCH NEEDED NAP WHEN SHE HEARD A TAP ON HER WINDOW. With a scowl, she opened it and met Jack’s brown eyes that gleamed innocently at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked entering the room stealthily. “Stop frowning so much, you’re going to get creases.”

“I would, but some asshole knocked on my window right when I was about to take a nap, which obviously put me in a bad mood.” Y/N crossed her arms on her chest, and Jack wanted to pinch her cheeks.

“Oh, so this asshole arrived on time for a nap, then“ Jack said, plopping himself in her bed.

“Are you out of your mind? You’re not sleeping on my bed, Champion.”

“Um, well, good luck trying to get me off this bed.” he said with a mischievous tone as he laid under the covers. “Come on, we can build a pillow wall if you want.”

Pillow walls never worked with them. Jack, in his sleep, would roll over them and lock his arms around her waist. And maybe that’s exactly why she agreed.

They both slept peacefully in each other’s arms, but then the morning came. Jack woke up happily at the sight of the girl he loved resting on his chest, but then it was like a bucket of ice cold water was dropped on him. He was leaving in a few hours.

He dragged himself out of the bed, left a note on her bedside table and with heavy steps he reached the window. He sneaked one last look, his heart breaking by having to leave the warmest bed he had ever known and the only girl he had truly loved behind.

JACK SCANNED HIS SURROUNDINGS ANXIOUSLY, WAITING FOR HIS GIRL TO ARRIVE TO SAY GOODBYE. He had left her a note saying that he understood if she didn’t want to go farewell him, yet a part of him hoped to see her one last time.

“Jack! Sorry, am I late? I overslept, and when I didn’t see you I started to freak out and just ran out of the house.” she spoke in between pants. Jack grinned, she was still in her pjs and looked extremely flushed.

“You arrived just in time” he assured her. She nodded, and they stayed silent for a few seconds. “I’m going to miss you.”

Y/N jumped into his arms “Me too, Jack. I love you.”

“I love you. And as much as I want to, I won’t ask you to wait.” Jack said, resting his back on the side of the car as he held Y/N in his arms.

“And I won’t ask you to stay.” she said. “But if you are ever tired of being known for who you know, you know you’ll always know me.”

“I’ll text you” Jack said to her. “Seriously, I’m going to text you so much, and I’m going to facetime you to show you the sets I work at, and make you practice lines with me.”

Y/N smiled in relief, and then smirked at him. “Yeah, well, as your number one fan I seriously expect those privileges.”

Jack rolled his eyes in affection before pulling a serious face. “I’m fine with being the loser.”

“What?”

He turned them around, so that she was now between the side of his car and his body. “I said, I’m fine with being the loser. Please kiss me.”

Y/N pushed him down, and years of love presented themselves in one anticipated kiss. Their lips moved as if trying to make up for the lost time, for all those years they had been concealing the overwhelming amount of mutual love they had in their bodies.

“I lost too, I said I wouldn’t give in.” she whispered breathlessly against his lips, her warm breath sent chills all over his body.

“Totally. Worth. It” Jack pecked her lips in between words, leaving her in a complete state of drunkness.

A few minutes later, the car started and Y/N watched him leave for the second time, but she was really optimistic about their relationship this time. You don’t know what you got until it’s gone, and now that they had experienced the loss, they were never letting go again.

[unseededtoast]

Light As A Feather | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: The gravity of your job begins getting to you, and you come to realize you've forgotten how beautiful life can be. And one tranquil night, it's like Spencer is able to lift the weight and makes you feel light as a feather. Inspired by Hozier's "I, Carrion (Icarian)"

Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3 and here is my masterlist!

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: General violence, angst, pining. Poorly Edited

a/n: howdy folks. I'm still in my spencer reid/hozier brainrot era and so here's another. I hope you all enjoy it and thank you for all of the support I've received, it means the world!!

His presence is enough to make you forget about the horrors of the world, of your job. Right now, it's just you and him, and you've never felt lighter; so unburdened. You're convinced that if he wasn't there, holding onto you with his magnetic pull, that you may just float away in the breeze like a feather. 

You had never been to Colorado before, and now you wish you could be here under different circumstances. It's the beginning of fall and it seems as if the people of Boulder are head over heels in love with the season. Which is understandable, you think you'd love fall this much too if you lived in a place this beautiful. The trees are painted in vibrant shades of yellow, orange, and red and the distant mountains stand proudly in the background with their snow capped tops. Your eyes are glued to the lush landscape as the SUV drives through Boulder to reach your destination.

You, along with the rest of your team, were called by the Park Rangers from the Rocky Mountain National Park about a few bodies they had discovered. Your superior, Hotch, decided their case was odd enough for you all to pay a visit. At first you hadn't wanted to come, convinced that there would be something closer to home to tend to, but now you're glad you agreed to come. Fall time in Quantico just isn't as picturesque.

Eventually, the SUV you're crammed into alongside three of your other team members drives up a long winding driveway to a hidden cabin in the woods. Hotch had booked the place, seeing as how close it is to the National Park and how secluded it is from potential people of interest. Once again, you tried to argue that the cellphone reception would be terrible up here and that it might hinder the case, but you were outvoted, and the rest of the team wanted to stay here. You hadn't understood why, but when the venue comes into view your jaw almost drops and you understand.

The cabin isn't at all what you had been expecting. Instead of some run-down, small, stuffy house, you see a large, sprawling log mansion. There are large windows adorning the front, accompanied by a wraparound porch on the second level. It's very reminiscent of a tasteful ski lodge.

"Wow." You breathe out as the car comes to a stop outside the front door.

"Still think it's a bad idea?" Hotch smarts off as he opens the trunk and starts handing people their bags. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you grab your bag from him and stare up at your home for the next few days.

The rest of the team wastes no time in going inside to claim their room, but you're happy to meander around for a little bit to familiarize yourself with the layout. You'll let them fight over the rooms and take whatever is left. After all, in a place of this size, even the smallest room is bound to be plentiful.

As you go through the halls admiring the artwork on the wall you spot Spencer doing the same, staring at a particular painting on the wall. You take just a second to appreciate the way he looks, standing there and analyzing art. You've always had an appreciation for Spencer, and not just for his good looks, but also his intelligence and his company.

Since your first day at the FBI you've felt drawn to him, he made you feel important, and heard, when others dismissed you. In fact, he's the reason you're on the BAU team in the first place. He was the only one to recognize your abilities and talents. You try not to hold a grudge about the fact the rest of the team was ready to let you transfer out after your internship. But instead of standing there and gawking at him like some braindead fool, you walk up to him, setting your bag on the floor beside your feet.

You look at the painting that's caught his attention and try to see what he does, try to think about how he interprets it. His mind is an amazing, complex thing, and you hope that one day you'll be able to understand just a small portion of it. It's a painting of the Great Rocky National Park, you can tell from the mountain formation and the river running through it. The painting is almost an identical match, as if it's actually a picture rather than painting. However, there's one small spot on the painting that looks like it's been painted over and over, it sticks out to you.

"What do you think happened there?" You point out the flaw and look up to Spencer, whose eyebrows are drawn closely together as he leans in and looks at the spot. After a few moments of quiet reflection, he stands back to his full height.

"I'm not sure. It looks like maybe the painter had difficulties finding the right shade." He says, still staring at the spot. Your eyes linger on his face before tearing them away before he catches on.

"You're probably right. I'm going to go find what room they left me." You say, grabbing your bag from beside you. Spencer bends over to pick up his as well,

"I should probably do the same." A small smile adorns his face, and the two of you begin walking through the cabin to find the empty rooms the team left you. According to the venue's website there should be one room for each agent, and you're thankful for that. You had never been a fan of sharing room with your coworkers, something about it just feels wrong, but when there's no way to avoid it you endure without much fuss.

The two of you check every room on the first floor only to find that they had all been claimed, meaning you two had to climb the stairs for rooms on the second level. Of course the rest of them would all claim the first floor rooms first, nobody likes to bother with stairs first thing in the morning.

You and Spencer find the empty rooms, side by side with direct access to the porch. You suppose there are worse rooms to have. Eager to step out onto the porch, you toss your bag on the bed and open the sliding door. Colorado's crisp air envelopes you as you step out and you take a deep breath. The air out here feels so clean and refreshing. Great Rocky National Park is directly in front of the porch, giving you an eagle's eye view of a portion of it as you lean onto the banister. Might as well enjoy a little bit of peace before you start working the case.

-----

"Three women were found in the same spot days apart from each other. All bludgeoned and stabbed through the heart." The Park Ranger speaks, indicating to the crime scene that's been barricaded with yellow tape. The Ranger stares at the scene, which is now an inconspicuous patch of dirt and grass, as if there weren't several dead women resting here. The scene is right beside a big body of crystal blue water.

You hang back from the rest of the team, opting to look at the surroundings instead of the immediate scene. The team knows now that finding the tiny details is your forte, and they leave you to your own devices in the beginning of investigations. The cold breeze causes you to hold your too-thin jacket closer to your body as you begin your observations.

"They were all found in the same spot?" Hotch asks the Ranger, who confirms that all of the victims were found in the exact same spot. As you examine the landscape, your eyes narrow in an attempt to find even the subtlest detail. Before too long, you see something out of place in the lush grass and walk over to it while pulling on a pair of gloves.

There's a pamphlet laying in the grass and upon further examination you see that it's been marked up like someone gave the traveler directions. Directions right to this spot. The killer lured at least one victim here. This trail is far off the beaten path, it's not marked by the Rangers. Only someone familiar with the area would know about it.

"Look at this." You call out to your team, and soon a few of them join your side to examine what you found. Spencer and Morgan look over your shoulder at the pamphlet, which is in better condition than you would've thought considering it was laying in grass beside a body of water.

"They're familiar with the area, they had this planned." Spencer speaks up and you nod your head, agreeing with him. Morgan holds out an evidence bag once he's done looking at it and you slip it inside, protecting it from any further damage. Morgan walks off with the pamphlet, leaving you and Spencer together, both deep in thought.

"What have you come up with so far?" You ask softly, curious to see if his theories line up with yours. Spencer shifts his weight and sighs, looking back to the crime scene.

"The killer is organized. They lured at least one victim right to this spot, and I'm assuming they did the same with the others. And they had to have brought the weapons with them. While there are branches to bludgeon people with, there's no evidence of anything nearby being cut down recently. If they used a natural object, it's likely they would've tried to blend it back in with nature." He explains and you nod your head along with what he's saying as you observe the scene and the scenery surrounding you.

"Unless they tossed the weapon into the water. They could have easily used a rock to bludgeon the victims." You counter his explanation. Spencer and you always did this with one another when forming theories. Not as to dissuade, or prove the other wrong, but to make your theories and explanations stronger. It's one of the qualities you most like about him. His eyes drift to the water.

"They could have. But they had to have brought the knife, there's no natural substitute that would leave that precise of a wound." He says, and you relent, agreeing with him.

"I want to question the Rangers, get their work schedules, and see the call logs. I also want to know where the victims were staying and if there's any camera footage of them in the welcome center." You shiver with a gust of wind and hold your arms tighter around your body as you walk off to gather the information you want.

Spencer decides to join you in going to the welcome center, claiming that in a huge national forest that none of us should be traveling alone. He has a good point, but you wouldn't have objected to his company either way. The Ranger from the scene escorts you two to the welcome center in his cruiser, the warm air letting your fingers regain their feeling.

"Who found the bodies?" You ask as you hold your hands in front of the vent emitting warm air. The Ranger looks at you through the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again.

"I found one and Birch found the others during his patrols." He answers and you mentally make a note to find Birch.

"Is that area regularly patrolled?" You push further for more information and the Ranger shakes his head.

"No, it wasn't, until I found the first girl. She had to have been out there for at least three days. After that I sent Birch out to keep an eye on the area. He found victim two a couple days after the first, and found the third a single day after the second." He says and you look to Spencer, both noting the decrease in time between kills. A sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that if you don't find the killer soon, then you may be finding a fourth victim any day now.

Once you reach the welcome center, the Rangers are more than happy to provide you with the security camera footage, work schedules, call logs, and anything else you may need. In fact, it's Ranger Birch that hands over the information himself. He's a young man, maybe mid twenties, with meticulously groomed hair and pressed uniform pants.

"Thank you." You tell him with a warm smile, taking the footage and other information off the counter and into your hands. He nods back with a wide, white-toothed smile and tells you and Spencer to come back if you need anything else. The moment you step out of the welcome center you give Spencer a pointed look with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you think?" He asks you before you can ask him. You lick your lips and glance back into the welcome center, Ranger Birch still looking at you. Your eyes find Spencer's and you motion for him to follow you.

"I think he takes pride in both his appearance and work, and he knows the park well." Hotch pulls up in a black SUV to pick you and Spencer up to return you to the cabin, where the entire team will discuss what's been found so far.

-----

The trip up to the cabin only takes about ten minutes. Your mind works to put pieces of the puzzle together the entire trip back, but there's just not enough known information yet, and it bothers you. You like to have answers quickly because the faster you get answers, the less people will die. Your leg bounces up and down the entire way back, eager to begin deciphering the evidence.

The SUV comes to a stop outside the cabin and before Hotch can turn the car off, you're out and making your way to the entrance. A man dressed in a casual flannel shirt hunched over the flowerbeds stops you in your tracks before you get to the front door. He wipes the dirt from his landscaping gloves onto his worn overalls as he greets you.

"Good afternoon ma'am, I hope you enjoy your stay here. I'm James, I do the landscaping work around here and a few other cabins nearby." He offers you a warm smile, which you try your best to return, but your anticipation is causing you to become short.

"Nice meeting you." You go to walk into the cabin, but James' voice stops you once more. Spencer and Hotch approach, engaged in a conversation likely pertaining to what happened at the welcome center.

"Wait, ma'am. I never caught your name." James smile is reminiscent of an old friend, and he looks at you expectedly. Against your best wishes, you answer him, not wanting to be unnecessarily rude to your host.

"We'll, it's been a pleasure to meet you. Maybe I'll catch you around before you head out. Are you here for work?" He continues his conversation as Spencer and Hotch walk into the cabin undeterred by the landscaper. Maybe if you had just slowed down one of them would've been caught instead. James' eyes linger on the items in your hands.

"Yeah, the whole team is here for work." You answer, shuffling some items around in your grasp. James nods his head and tears his gaze away from the items, the warm smile returning to his face.

"Must be some important work if a whole team is here. By the looks of you all I'd say you're some sort of police." He guesses, eyeing the firearm that's strapped to your thigh. Your eyes narrow at the man, and you nod.

"Yeah, something like that. I really have to get going, they're probably waiting for me in there. Have a nice night, James." You find your exit route out of the conversation with the friendly mannered landscaper. As you step through the door you hear his voice call out to you once more.

"If there's anything I can do to help, number's in the guestbook." The door closes, and the conversation finally ends.

Taking a cleansing breath, you join the rest of the team who are all gathered around the rectangular dining table, which has been designated as the investigation headquarters. On the table are a slew of files, photos, and papers. You add the information gathered from the welcome center to that collection and Hotch starts the conversation.

Hotch reviews the known information and circulates photos of the victims. They're all beautiful young women, and according to Garcia, were staying at nearby resorts and cabins for vacation. The photos get passed to you and you look at them intently, committing to memory every detail you can absorb before you pass them along. It's obvious that these victims were chosen because of their physical appearance, they all share the same basic features such as hair color, eye color, and stature. And eerily, you seem to match the profile as well. 

"The physical appearance of the victim is important to the unsub. Having three victims with similar features is no mistake, nor is it a coincidence." You add to the conversation, seeing your team members look from you to the photos on the table. 

"Maybe the victims represent someone who scorned the unsub? Extracting revenge through them." Spencer suggests, and it's a good theory. You chew on the skin of your bottom lip as your mind races with theories and trying to piece the information together like a puzzle. 

After the general briefing, Hotch assigns Morgan and Prentiss to interview the Park Rangers to establish alibis, JJ and Garcia to continue conducting their online investigation, and Spencer and yourself to go over the welcome center footage. Hotch was going to speak to the people running the cabins the victims were staying at to see if there are any leads there. 

You and Spencer are on the second hour of footage when your eyes start becoming heavy. Reaching for the remote, you pause the footage and stretch, needing to take a break. 

"You want some coffee?" You ask him, needing something to keep yourself awake. He nods his head, 

"Yes, please." You stand from your seat and go to the kitchen to prepare the two of you some coffee. You're sure to put an ungodly amount of sugar in Spencer's, knowing that if you don't you'll hear him complain about it. And most times you enjoy the sound of his voice, but you don't know if you can stand hours of CCTV footage and him complaining about a lack of sugar right now.

You return to the table and place his mug in front of him, steam rising from it. You sip your own and resume your position at the table and reach for the remote. Spencer reaches for it at the same time, your hands brushing one another's. His hand is warm and soft, perfect for the chilly autumn air. 

"Sorry." You say, pulling your hand away and forcing any other thought than the footage from your mind, knowing that there's already a faint pink adorning your cheeks. No matter how long you've worked with him, even just simple touches is enough to send you spiraling if you let it. You try not to delve into what that might mean; you profile people for a living, the last thing you want to do is profile yourself. Without a word, Spencer just smiles back politely and presses play. 

The footage rolls and you two identify the victims who all showed up unaccompanied, which you find odd considering they were on vacation with their families. Your hand jots down quick notes in sloppy handwriting as you critically examine what you do, and don't, see in the footage. Spencer and you replay the footage showing the victims easily five times each, both silently taking notes, knowing you're going to compare soon. After watching the third victim's footage for the last time, you look over to Spencer, who's face is illuminated by the golden glow of the setting sun. 

"Do you want to go first?" He asks and you nod, trying not to stare at how the sunlight reflects the amber color in his warm prismatic eyes. You look down to your notes and try to get your thoughts straight before speaking. 

"I noted that all three victims walked into the welcome center with a pamphlet already in hand. None of them took the ones provided by the park. They all showed up alone. I can only assume that the unsub gave them the pamphlets with instructions on how to find the scene. Only, I'm willing to bet it was framed as a good-intentioned suggestion. There's no way those women would have gone if they didn't trust the unsub to some degree." Your eyes glance from your horribly written notes up to Spencer, who's leaning on the table, clinging to every word you say. He hums in consideration before he speaks up.

"I would agree. And if the victims were all staying at tourist destinations, those pamphlets were likely already there. So now the question is whether or not the unsub talked to them at their cabins or before they walked into the welcome center." He says, and a lightbulb goes off in your mind. 

"Wouldn't it make more sense for the unsub to speak to them at their cabins? I mean, if the unsub caught them in the parking lot there's a chance they might have their families with them. But if the unsub spoke to them at their cabins, the women might be persuaded to leave their families behind for some reason." You say, going with the logical deductions that pop into your mind. Spencer mulls over your words, his eyes narrowing, staring back at you in deep thought. 

"You're right. The unsub likely works for the resorts. It would give them access to the victims and it wouldn't be weird for them to give suggestions to guests." He confirms what you thought and you look back to the screen, seeing the third victim frozen in time. 

"We should let the team know." You say and Spencer nods. The two of you finish off your coffee and wait for the rest of the team to arrive. You're confident that the two of you have a solid lead on this case. You only hope you can find the unsub before there's a fourth victim.

-----

The sun sets on the scenic landscape and you lean against the banister of the wraparound porch. The rest of the team isn't back yet, and the last thing you want to do is stay inside when it's so beautiful out here. The snowcapped mountain in the distance gleams brilliantly, and it's almost blinding, but you can't look away. Sounds of water rushing and birds chirping fill the air and if you let your mind relax enough it's almost like you're not here to solve murders. 

Your head rests atop of your arms on the railing and you breathe in the cool air. The breeze gently blows your hair around, sending a shiver up your spine. You had severely underestimated how cold it would be here, and as a result, you failed to pack adequately because you were basing your packing off of Virginia fall time temperatures, which are noticeably warmer. 

The sliding door opens and you turn to see Spencer walking out of his room. He joins your side and leans forward on the railing, looking out at the breathtaking view. His curly brown hair gets blown into his face, and you have to stop yourself from reaching out and tucking it behind his ear. You're also enjoying the breathtaking view. 

He looks at peace, which is not something you usually see in him. His mind works overtime almost twenty four hours a day, especially on cases. It has to be torturous sometimes, to never get a reprieve from your own thoughts; and that's something you know all too well. There are some nights where you can't sleep because gruesome memories from the job haunt you. 

Noticing that you're staring at him, you turn your gaze back to the colorful trees. The two of you enjoy a moment of tranquility together, a rare moment in the fast-paced career you pursued. A bird flies by, and you can only imagine what that freedom feels like. Most times you feel like your job keeps you cemented in one place, always dealing with death and the most heinous monsters that reside in this world. You often forget just how beautiful and free life can be. 

A particularly crisp breeze comes through and you visibly shiver, which Spencer notices. Without a word, he goes into his room and comes back moments later with the throw blanket that was folded at the bottom of the bed. It's burnt orange in color and is made of faux fur, warm and soothing. Spencer drapes it over your shoulders and you hold onto the ends, keeping it secure around you. If you could stay in this moment forever, you would. 

Spencer stands so closely beside you that you feel his warmth coming through the blanket, and without much thought, or care, you lean into him just slightly. He makes no effort to move, and the two of you stay like that for what seems like an eternity. His warmth and his smell are so comforting and makes you feel safe. Deep down in your heart you know he makes you feel at home.

The two of you enjoy each other's company in a peaceful silence. There's never been the need to fill the silence with him, like there is the others. While you two are quite talkative in the team dynamic, when you find yourselves alone it's often relaxed with no expectations. You two talk when you want, or is needed, but when there's nothing to say you're more than happy to just be around him. And you hope he feels the same about you, and you think he does, but you're never brave enough to ask for fear of ruining whatever relationship it is that you two share.

Sighing, you cuddle yourself further into the blanket as the sun dips lower and lower, the golden hue turning orange. Spencer moves beside you, and you see his fingers twitch, like he was going to reach out for something but doesn't. Your head turns to look at him above you, and his head lowers, so that your eyes meet one another. 

You had always known his eyes were beautiful, but up this close you can truly admire the depth of them. The golden hues remind you of the sunsets, the green in them is like the rich moss that adorns the sides of the rocks; or like the pine needles on the tall trees, and the brown is reminiscent of swirling espresso. Taken aback from his closeness and the heat creeping up your spine, your lips fall open and his eyes glance between them and your eyes. He's so close to you, your bodies practically pressed against one another. You feel yourself being drawn to him, like he has his own magnetic pull. 

But whatever was about to happen is cut short by the rest of the team arriving back to the cabin. You and Spencer seem to come back to reality and step away from one another. Flustered, you unwrap the blanket from your shoulders and hand it back to him, already missing the warmth.

"Thank you." Your voice is soft and tender, and his hand brushes your own as he grabs the blanket from you. 

"Of course." He smiles softly back, and the two of you part ways to join the rest of your team downstairs to catch up on the latest information. But you can barely pay attention to what is being said, for your mind is drowning with flashes of Spencer out on the porch. 

-----

The next morning you wake up as the sun shines in through the windows, illuminating the room beautifully and warmly. Hotch had given everyone the night to mull over the information and said that the investigation will pick right back up in the morning. After you get dressed and ensure your service weapon is properly attached to the harness around your thigh, you make your way down the stairs for a morning cup of coffee. Morgan, Prentiss, and Hotch are already sat at the table, picking at some toast for breakfast as they get the sleep rid from their systems. 

You make a cup for yourself and Spencer, knowing he will be up any moment now. As per usual, too much sugar gets put into his and then you pour your own. The warm drink calms your nerves and you close your eyes, trying to get your mind prepared for whatever the day may bring. You know there may very well be a fourth victim found soon and you need to be on the top of your game to find the unsub.

"Good morning." A raspy voice makes your eyes open, and you see Spencer walking into the kitchen, dressed in a button up and tie. It's quite casual for him, but you like it, it looks nice on him. 

"Good morning, made yours right here." You say and nod over to the mug on the counter. He looks from you to the mug with a smile on his face.

"Thanks." He says, and the two of you stay in the kitchen, sipping on your coffee and waiting for Hotch to give everyone orders. 

"Feeling good about today?" It's something you always ask when an investigation seems to be coming to a close. You think it sets a tone, an expectation that the team will succeed. Spencer sips his drink and nods, 

"I feel good about today." He confirms, flashing his bright white smile. 

Last night, after the team had arrived, Hotch had shown everyone the list of employees from the neighboring resorts and cabins and today the team will be interviewing those employees. You're convinced the unsub has to be on that list and you intend to find out who it is. The questions have already been sorted in your mind, though you're able to adapt to anyone's personality and are prepared to get answers. 

"Same teams as yesterday, we're going to divide and conquer." Hotch says, handing each team a list of names. You look down at the list he handed you and see that there are a total of fifteen employees for the small resort that you and Spencer are covering. It catches your attention that seven of the fifteen are women, and you mentally place them lower on your suspect list. This doesn't seem like a crime women usually commit, no, this seems like the work of a man as evidenced by the brute force used. 

Morgan and Prentiss take off in one car, Hotch takes another, leaving you and Spencer with your own SUV. The two of you gather your needed materials, such as photos and notepads, before you head out. Spencer grabs the keys and tells you that he's going to warm up the car as you finish organizing your things, and you're grateful for that. Sitting in a cold car doesn't really appeal to you right now. 

Once you're content with the items you've chosen to bring along you head out of the cabin. The bright light almost blinds you, and you squint in order to see. From the corner of your eye you see something move, and when you turn to look you see it's the landscaper from the other day, already flagging you down. Resisting the strong urge to just ignore him, you wait for him to reach you on the porch steps. He looks like he's already been hard at work today, he's covered in dirt and sweat. 

"Well good mornin'. Got anything interesting going on today?" He asks, shielding his eyes from the light with his gloved hand. You shift your weight and look to the running SUV, already planning your escape route out of this conversation. 

"Uh, yeah, you could say it'll be an interesting day." You reply as politely as you can. James smiles widely at your response. 

"What sort of thing you have planned?" He asks and you sigh, not wanting to be part of this conversation any longer. 

"I'm not at liberty to say, but I've gotta go, my partner is waiting for me." You excuse yourself from the conversation before he can get another word in. From behind you, you hear him say. 

"Well alright then, I'll be around if you need anything." As you slide into the driver's side of the car and hand your bag to Spencer, you see the man heading back to the tool shed. 

"That's twice now that he's singled me out." You say, keeping your eye on him for a moment longer, watching his moves. The fact that you match the victim profile is not lost on you, and you think it might be making you just slightly paranoid.

"I noticed that too. Could be that you were the first one there the last time, and the last one out this time, but it's definitely something to keep note of." Spencer says as you drive off to the tiny resort the two of you had been assigned. You know he might be right, but the man went out of his way to flag you down this morning and completely ignored everyone else. An uneasy feeling in your stomach tells you that the landscaper should be looked into more thoroughly. 

When you and Spencer reach the resort you waste no time in beginning your investigations. The two of you are laser focused on the task at hand, and agree to split the list equally. Spencer volunteered himself to question the extra person. Luckily, the front desk attendant was more than helpful and secured two rooms for the interviews to be conducted. 

The first four interviews go by without incident, all front desk attendants and kitchen workers who have no indication of manipulative traits and answer your questions openly. You've done this enough times to spot exactly what you're looking for, you know what gets under the skin of unsubs, especially the organized ones who think they have it all figured out. 

A couple other interviewees give you good information about the victim who stayed here. They tell you how they remember seeing her with her family in the hall, and how nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the room when it was cleaned. Hotch had questioned the families last night, and cleared them from the suspects list. 

By the time you reach the end of your list, you know you can safely cross every one of them off. None of them responded to the misinformation you sprinkled in the questions, things the unsub would've been known to be untrue. And none of them had any sort of reaction to you insulting the intelligence of the unsub, something that would have surely set them off in some way. But to your dismay, none of them had any clue of who could be capable of this kind of malice. Typically, there's at least one person who's able to spot something weird about someone, but not this time. 

You group back up with Spencer, the two of you comparing notes in the room he used for his questioning. He had the same results as you and you both were hoping someone else on the team was more successful. 

"We got all of them except for James Hilton. The others said he bounces around to each place and some days he's not even here." Spencer says, pointing out the only uncrossed name from the list. 

"James Hilton. That's the landscaper." You say, barely able to recall his name from yesterday. The uneasy feeling in your stomach grows. 

-----

In the afternoon, the team reconvenes in the cabin around the table to compare findings. Every other agent was able to interview everyone but James Hilton. Granted, his job requires him to go from location to location, but it seems like he's been hanging out around this cabin often. However, he was nowhere to be found when everyone came back. But maybe he went to another location to work on their flowerbeds. 

"We'll need to get his statement today. Anyone up to track him down?" Usually you volunteer to go after someone like this, but something is telling you not to, and you listen to your instincts. Thankfully Morgan offers to track him down, and Prentiss joins him once more. You pick at a piece of paper on the table as your mind works, mulling over what you know about the case and the overly-friendly landscaper. 

Before Morgan and Prentiss leave, Spencer informs the team about the conversations that James has dragged you into. You tell them exactly what happened, and they all agree that it seems suspicious. Hotch goes off to make some calls to JJ and Garcia, leaving you and Spencer at the table. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asks, leaning forward on the table. His voice snaps you out of your trance and you cease to fiddle with the paper. 

"Me? Yeah I'm fine, why?" You ask, not sure why he's concerned. He looks conflicted, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he answers. 

"Well, it's just that you fit the victim profile and the conversations with the landscaper seem to be suspicious. And you keep playing with the paper which is an indication of anxiety." He says, trying his best to not profile you in front of your face. 

"Spencer, I'm okay, promise. I was just thinking." You tell him, and it's the truth. While James makes you feel uneasy, you're confident that nothing will happen to you. Spencer nods and you stand from the table, wanting to inspect the cabin with finer detail and stretch your legs. 

After going from room to room looking for the tiniest thing that might be relevant to the case, you find yourself staring at the same photo that caught Spencer's eye when you all first arrived. There's something about it, something about the discolored spot, that you just can't let go of. It's bothering you for some reason. Frustrated, you take it off the wall and bring it to where Spencer is in the main living area, nose in a book. He looks up from the page when he hears you coming, his eyebrows scrunching closely together. 

"What are you doing?" He asks, putting the book on a side table. You place the painting on the large coffee table and put your hands on your hips. 

"There's something about this that's driving me insane." You say, eyes drifting from Spencer's face to the painting. It takes Spencer all of ten seconds to analyze the painting again. 

"It's the same place the bodies were found." He says and your eyes widen, taking in the scene again and realizing he's right. 

"Wait. If this is the same place the bodies were found, then that, is the exact spot they were in." You say, pointing to the discolored spot. The discoloration is where the grass meets the water, the mountain in the background. Your eyes drift to the bottom corner of the painting where you see a cursive 'J' painted in white. 

"Do you think the killer is the one who painted this?" Spencer asks you, and you nod. 

"I'm sure of it. There's a J painted in the corner. It has to be Hilton. Can you call Garcia?" You ask, mind feeling like it's running a marathon. Spencer doesn't hesitate to get Garcia on the phone. 

"Hello my beautiful boy genius, what can I do for you today?" Penelope's voice sounds throughout the room and you smirk at her entertaining phone greeting. 

"Hello my beautiful computer genius, can you do me a favor?" You speak first and you can hear her laugh through the phone. 

"Oh my darling anything for you." Her voice is melodic and you shake your head at her antics. You love Garcia, she's one of your closest friends inside and outside of work. 

"Can you find anything on a James Hilton from the Boulder, Colorado area?" You ask her, knowing your answer is about to be served on a silver platter in just a few moments. Garcia's quick typing echoes through the phone. 

"James Hilton, born and raised in Boulder. Has been working as a property manager for the last ten years at the property you all are staying at. Has one traffic record from the nineties, but other than that he's clean." She says, but you were hoping for something more incriminating. 

"Anything about a wife, or a girlfriend? Maybe even a sister or mother?" You ask her, staring down a the painting. 

"It looks like he was in a long term relationship with Valerie Wilson, also of Boulder. But according to her Facebook page, they are over with." She says, Spencer and you looking at each other, knowing you may have just found a potential piece of the puzzle. 

"Perfect. Can you tell me what she looks like and how to contact her?" You ask and write down the details Garcia recites. After you get the needed information, Spencer hangs up and calls Hotch to inform him of what the two of you just found out. Hotch tells us that he's on his way back to the cabin after he's done with the last interview. 

The painting lays in front of you two, and you take a seat on the arm of the chair Spencer is sitting in, your leg brushing up against his and your arm resting behind his head to keep yourself stable. Your eyes are glued to the discoloration, and you know there's just something about it that's more than just not being able to find the right shade. 

"Is there a way to see if something has been painted over?" You ask Spencer rather than Googling it, knowing he can probably get you an answer faster. He clears his throat and nods his head.

"A few years ago it was found that Vincent Van Gogh painted over several of his works due to the cost of canvas. Experts used x-ray to see through the layers, revealing the original painting." His answer is exactly what you were looking for.

"We have to get this thing x-rayed. And someone needs to contact Valerie and ask her about her relationship with James. His tool shed should be examined as well" You jump off the chair's arm, ready to leave immediately, but having to wait for Hotch before you can proceed with anything else. 

-----

Hours later, your leg is bouncing up and down, eagerly awaiting the results of the x-ray. The hospital staff had never encountered something quite like this, but you were thankful that they were cooperative. Spencer had come along with you while Hotch stayed back to get in contact with Valerie. You check your phone every ten seconds to see if you have a new message for him, but your screen is blank.

Thankfully, a few minutes later an x-ray technician comes out and beckons you to a dark room where she clips the x-ray images onto a lightboard. While the images aren't in color, you can still see exactly what you need to. The images show that where the discoloration is, there used to be a woman standing and a man on one knee. A gasp leaves your mouth, the pieces finally fitting together in your mind. Without a doubt, James is the unsub. 

Spencer and you race back to the cabin and spill the findings to the rest of the team. Hotch informs you that Valerie had confirmed that James recently proposed, but she turned him down. All of the victims match her appearance. He must have been killing to fulfill some sort of revenge he felt was necessary. 

The team calls each of the resorts that James is employed at only to find that he's not at any of them. While the others scramble to try and find a way to find him, your eyes land on the guestbook. 

"Guys. I can call him. He told me his number is in the guestbook and we know I fit the profile. He won't be able to help himself." You say, and the others don't have any good reason as to why you shouldn't do it. Your hands shake from the adrenaline as you dial the numbers and the phone rings, your heartbeat resounding in your ears. You're so close to catching this depraved man. 

"Hello?" He answers finally. You let go of a breath you weren't aware you were holding and speak up.

"Hi James, you told me to call you if I needed help with anything. And, um, I think I might have broken one of the outside lights." You quickly come up with a lie, hoping to lure him out here for the arrest. You hear him moving around on the other end and the start of an engine. 

"Of course, I'll be there in just a moment, honey." He says and you hang up the phone, trying not to gag from his pet name. 

It takes James all of fifteen minutes to reach the cabin. When he pulls up, the entire team is waiting for him, but you were the one with cuffs in your hands. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Hotch and Morgan were out the door ordering him to the ground. With smug satisfaction, you step over the man and secure his hands in cuffs behind his back. 

As the local police show up to take him away, he's spitting every expletive in the book at you. Rage and hatred show themselves very clearly on his face, and you see who he really is. You smile sickly sweet at him as he's shoved into the back of the cop car. Another monster off the street, unable to do harm to another woman. It's like a weight gets lifted from your shoulders. 

-----

After the excitement of the arrest, you come down off your adrenaline rush. The rest of the team are packing, getting ready to leave in the morning, but you can't find it within yourself to do it. You're too struck by the beauty in front of you to worry about going back home. You just don't want to part with this yet. So you find yourself out on the wraparound porch once more, the sun retreating far too quickly behind the horizon for your liking. 

Despite the waning sun, the landscape looks brighter, more vibrant now that you know that the killer is in custody. Usually, the team gets only a few hours of celebration before you're saddled with paperwork and the next case. A bird flies past again, and you appreciate its freedom again. Its sweet melodies carry in the breeze and soothes your weary soul. 

You love your job, you can't imagine doing anything else, but it does wear on you. Both physically and mentally. Before you had started working with the team, you never could have imagined the kind of evil lurking everywhere, even in a place as gorgeous as this. But now, it's like wherever you look, no matter how beautiful the surroundings, you can always spot something amiss. You feel weighted by the knowledge of what reality actually is. 

The familiar sound of the sliding door catches your attention, and you see Spencer coming towards you, blanket in hand. A smile finds its way onto your face as he closes the distance between you, securing the blanket around your shoulders. Just like yesterday, he stands right beside you, admiring the view. 

"The others are all leaving tonight, they said they want to get a headstart on the papers. But I told them we'd go back in the morning." His voice is raspy, yet soft.

"But what about the plane?" You ask, eyebrows knitting together. He shrugs his shoulders and looks down at you. 

"I told them we'd fly back in the morning, already have the tickets arranged." He says, easing some of your anxiousness, but not satisfying your curiosity.

"Why?" You search for the answer on his face. 

"Because I saw how much you like it here. You deserve one workless night." He says with sincerity and your heart swells at the sentiment. You fully turn towards him, soft blanket draped lightly across your shoulders. You notice that Spencer has traded his button up for a simple pullover. Something so simple has never looked so good before. 

"Thank you, you really didn't have to-" He cuts you off with a smile, 

"I know, but I wanted to." He admits, pink coloring his cheeks. You stare up at him in awe, not quite sure what you did to deserve his thoughtfulness. Not being able to hold back your affections, you reach out and engulf him in a hug. 

"Thank you, Spencer." You reiterate into his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you. After a few fleeting, precious moments, you let go of him. Staring up into his eyes, you reach a hand up and stroke the soft skin of his cheekbone with your thumb. He doesn't flinch from your touch like he does with others, no, he leans into it as if he's savoring the feeling.

His arm that was around your waist come up to cup your cheek, and he gently brings your face towards his, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. You hold him close, a flurry of warmth spreading from your face down to your body. His other hand finds its way around your waist, securing you to his body. 

You break the kiss as your chest begins burning with the need of oxygen, and he rests his forehead against yours. Your hands come up to gently grasp the sides of his face, keeping him in place so that you can admire his beauty. After minutes pass by in silence as you two appreciate each other, Spencer tilts his head up and kisses your forehead. 

He turns you around so that you're facing away from him, and he grabs the blanket from around your shoulders. Seconds later, you feel him standing behind you, wrapping the soft blanket around the both of you. His chest is behind you, and he hands you the edges of the blanket so that his hands might find the soft curve of your waist. Spencer pulls you in to him so that you're leaning back on his chest. 

His presence is enough to make you forget about the horrors of the world, of your job. Right now, it's just you and him, and you've never felt lighter; so unburdened. You're convinced that if he wasn't there, holding onto you with his magnetic pull, that you may just float away in the breeze like a feather. 

Spencer rests his head atop of yours as the two of you relax your minds and bodies, focusing solely on each other and the scene in front of you. Your hands come down to entwine themselves with his with a soft smile on your face. 

A lone tear falls from the corner of your eye as you're overcome with emotion. You cannot recall a single time in your life that you've felt this serene, where everything just feels perfect. Your soul is well nourished and full from Spencer alone. All of those cases you worked together, the stolen glances across the office, the simple acts of kindness and thoughtfulness for each other has culminated to this one precious moment in time; and you've never felt more content. 

The sun eventually sets behind the horizon, the chilly breeze billowing the blanket around you both. Above you in the sky, the stars shine brightly, and you tip your head back to admire them. You can never admire their true beauty in Quantico, their shine is dulled by light pollution, but you can see them clearly here. You can see everything clearly here.

"You know, scientists estimate that there are about two hundred sextillion stars in the sky within the Milky Way." Spencer whispers in your ear as you two bask in their soft white light. You turn around in his hold and smile up at him, 

"And yet none shine as brilliantly or as beautifully as you." You say, and pull him in for another soft, heartfelt kiss. As you pull away, you watch as his eyes flutter open and he smiles endearingly. You've never seen such a beautiful sight, never felt comfort as warm as him, and you know as you lean into his embrace, that you will not bear the weight of this world or this life alone. 

[heavenbelongstociaran]

me and my wilmon playlist

i like to think of myself as the second coming of christ when it comes to making playlists right, and i have this completely reasonable in length young royals playlist and i feel like i nailed it, in terms of the general vibe of the show AND scene specific themes.

ANYWAY, the reason i'm bringing it up is because i think there are a few songs that are very season specific that are in there.

season 1: visions of gideon by sufjan stevens

I KNOW everyone and their mother would agree that this song is very tragically wilmon.

"I have loved you for the last time

Is it a video? Is it a video?

I have touched you for the last time

Is it a video? Is it a video?"

giving very much episode six, when simon and wille were saying goodbye just before wille left for the palace. even though simon was being reassuring, comforting and encouraging (calling him brave, saying the royal court couldn't force him to do something he didn't want to do), wille (imo) didn't seem to believe him. and i think the way they kissed just made it seem like wille had already made his mind up, even though he said that he wouldn't lie about the video. it felt like he knew he was going to do it, and that it would inevitably be the end of the relationship, hence the lyrics being "i have loved/touched you for the last time."

honourable mentions include:

i'm your man by mitski

on and on by djo

favourite crime by olivia rodrigo

love in the dark by adele

it almost worked by tv girl

hurts me too by faye webster

take me home by pinkpantheress

let light be light by lizzy mcalpine

season 2: crack baby by mitski

gonna start with the honourable mentions first because there are loads:

i loved you by sunday cruise

thursday girl by mitski

why didn't you stop me by mitski

capable of love by pinkpantheress

genuinely, there are so many more but these are the ones that popped into my head as i was scrolling through the playlist.

you know that one saying that's like, "you never know how good you had it until it's gone" or however it goes? that's how season 2 felt.

both simon and wille were trying to recreate what they had or could have had with other people (marcus and felice, respectively) and realised that that would be impossible.

"Crack baby, you don't know what you want But you know that you had it once And you know that you want it back Crack baby, you don't know what you want But you know that you're needing it And you know that you need it bad"

said realisation definitely hurt wille incredibly, considering he said he wished it hadn't happened. it made him realise what life could be like, but he threw that away because he thought he was doing the right thing by denying the video ("protecting" simon). i actually have no idea how to explain this but like, trust me bro.

season 3: too many to name.

heaven by mitski. these fuckers were so in love this season, it was quite sickening (/affection). thinking about season three wilmon makes me want to cry, ignoring their communication issues, and other things that had a negative impact on their relationship.

a part of that by anna kendrick. HERE ME OUT. so, the song is from the movie adaptation of the play "the last five years" and anna's character, kathy, is watching her husband succeed and do all these amazing things in his life and is wondering where she fits into all of it. in season three and maybe the whole series, there's the topic of where the big five fit into the society or positions they're placed in and their positions in each other's lives. wille's struggle w/the monarchy and wanting out, august wanting in (for example).

dark circles by ryan beatty. this has simon written all over it.

casino by ryan beatty.

capable of love by pinkpantheress. goes with what i yapped about regarding season two. whenever they break, or rather when simon breaks up with simon, they seem to feel like this is the be all, end all of everything and that they won't love anyone ever again. in capable of love, pinkpantheress is saying that people pretend that the bond that she has with her love interest doesn't exist, ie people ignoring the fact that simon and wille were together at one point and only acknowledging wille when he got with felice BUT she also says that that doesn't matter, considering everything they went through to get to where they are now. she goes on to say that she'll never be able to love anyone the same way if they were to ever break up and i think that, throughout the series, this has shone through.

ribbons by ryan beatty. https://genius.com/31122186/Ryan-beatty-ribbons/Whos-gonna-hold-you-while-you-sleep-well-its-brave-to-be-nothing-to-no-one-at-all

little faith by ryan beatty!!!!!! (quite frankly, the entire album, Calico.)

general

there are a lot of songs that could encompass the show. capable of love. literally any loyle carner song about struggling with your identity and familial relationships and breaking cycles (polyfilla). sufjan stevens (mystery of love, everything that rises). so on and so forth. but wilmon and the young royals are not one dimensional enough to be described by one or eighteen songs, they're a whole catalogue. that playlist on paper is the most random thing i have ever crafted because fo&o, boygenius and brockhampton have no right to be in the same playlist, but hurt like we did, cool about it and any way want me absolutely deserve to be together; in a cool way, i think that's literally what simon and wille are like: on paper, they don't make sense. the crown prince of sweden, white and privileged and a gay brown boy from a small town who just happens to be an antimonarchist, but if you take that all away, they're two boys trying to find their place in the world, making mistakes.

feel free to give feedback and song recs !!!

playlist links:

apple music: https://music.apple.com/za/playlist/young-royals-but-i-made-the-soundtrack/pl.u-6mo4ZzvSBedVApW

spotify: (i haven't updated it on there in at least six months): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/25Pf9bDFBl6vtXOH9cvJC5?si=0b8a0ff36bb5435e

[thesoftboiledegg]

give me 10 random r&m thoughts, first things that come into your head, rn. i’m mid-s3, on e9

I never thought I'd like Rick because he was the dudebro mascot for years, and he ended up being one of my favorite characters. I was one of those people who (wrongly) assumed that the show is bad just because parts of the fandom are nuts.

I think that season three is the best season, but it's not a personal favorite because it gets a little too dark.

When Dan Harmon was designing Rick, I bet that he never imagined that so many people would be attracted to him, lol. Shouldn't have made him so tall!

It's fascinating to me how the Rick and Morty fandom is huge, but there's only about 6,000 fics on AO3 and it's rare for a fic to get more than 10,000 views. Meanwhile, fics in other fandoms like Hannibal easily break 600,000. I guess some fandoms just don't attract fanfic writers like others do.

I don't consider anything outside the series to be canon and don't read the comics because of it. This isn't just for Rick and Morty--I'm like that with every fandom.

If season one came out today, I think that Rick and Morty would still blow up because science and tech bro culture is bigger than ever. I still see Twitter bros with Rick icons and C-137 in their handles.

Nobody has to like Rick and Morty, but my fellow Adult Swim fans need to stop yelling that it should be canceled. Rick and Morty is probably PAYING for a lot of these series that they enjoy. Adult Swim canceling Rick and Morty doesn't mean that Smiling Friends gets ten seasons and a movie, it means that Smiling Friends goes bye-bye. 👋

People who call Mr. Meeseeks and the butter robot (or the show in general) "cartoon nihilism" have no clue what they're talking about. First off, they're talking about existential nihilism, not just nihilism, and second, life isn't meaningless for Mr. Meeseeks or the butter robot. They're created for a specific purpose, and they fulfill it. That's the opposite of existential nihilism. Admittedly, I think the writers were aiming for nihilism and didn't really understand it, either.

Rick isn't a sociopath and Morty isn't dumb, and I wish the marketing would stop selling them that way. I never understood where "Morty is dumb" comes from because he keeps up with Rick pretty well.

Rick and Morty is the only fandom where I've made OCs. Normally, I don't care for OCs/crossovers/AUs because I'm attached to canon, so--why would I read about an OC hanging out at a coffee shop or whatever? But Rick and Morty is a little different because an infinite number of Ricks, Mortys and other characters exist in the show. For me, Rick having a sister would be a true OC.

[samkerrworshipper]

do you regret cutting contact with your parents and fucking off? how do you do it? because sometimes it feels like it’s my only option if I want to survive and actually have a life someday. And maybe being in contact with them is what makes my mental health so erratic and bad sometimes where I only want out and the only way out seems to be dying.

i don’t regret it but i do have regrets about the fact that i essentially have pretty much no connection with my family anymore more.

for me, it wasn’t hard, i moved to the city for gymnastics when i was 16-17 anyways, i would go home when i had free days or meet free weekends or during off season but i was pretty self sufficient

i was also travelling though for competitions, internationally and interstate so i wasn’t home that frequently and as i was exposed to a world i had no idea about it became apparent just how much i was missing out on and exactly why i had to leave

i turned eighteen, decided it was time to move away permanently and over time just completely stopped interacting with my family. when they found out i was gay it was a whole thing, interventions, attempts to bring me home, prayer groups, letters from the church i grew up in, and it just solidified the reason why i left

i have ten siblings, i only interact with three of them now and it’s tough but i wouldn’t be alive if i hadn’t of left, i would not be alive today.

i grew up in a toxic family, and for my sake i decided that i wanted to change that so i did

it sucks, i wish i could spend christmas with my family, i wish i could call up my mum and tell her about my relationship problems, i wish that i could call up my dad when i get a flat tire but that’s not my life, and it’s sad but i have a good life, i have a happy life, i am fulfilled and found fulfillment in what i have

leaving people, leaving a support system (even if it is a toxic one) sucks, but if you are doing it for you and for your safety and life then do it, make the best decisions for yourself

[kitkatopinions]

I'm not going back through my posts to find this, but like three years ago I made a post that was like "when people say things about Ironwood that aren't true like 'he invaded Vale' I'm just gonna be like 'cool headcanon. My headcanon is-' and then insert some random headcanon." Well, nowadays, RWBY fans are making me want to do that again in response to every time they say something happened off screen.

"It's not that Yang and Blake 'don't talk about their problems,' they just talk about them off screen." Yeah cool headcanon. My headcanon is that Blake was actually closer friends with Neptune than with Weiss before the Fall of Beacon.

"Jaune isn't 'the only one who got to mourn Pyrrha,' obviously the others mourned, it just happened off screen." Uh-huh, cool headcanon. My headcanon is that Qrow and Raven are actually the children of Salem and they just don't realize it.

"You can't say that Ruby's message to the world in V8 didn't contain all the vital information, because some of the message just wasn't shown!" "Yang and Blake didn't keep secrets from the rest of their team by never telling them they told Robin everything, they told them offscreen!" "It's so stupid that people are saying Yang is a hypocrite for yelling at Oz about keeping secrets after she lied to Qrow about Raven, clearly she told the truth off screen!" "I can't believe that people are complaining that Weiss was never shown to deconstruct her anti-faunus beliefs or apologize and therefore her white-knighting for Blake feels performative. Clearly she unlearned that stuff off screen!" Cool headcanons, bro. I have this headcanon that when Ruby and Yang were kids, they started fighting over this toy yo-yo because they both thought the yo-yo belonged to them, and then one day Ruby was playing with the yo-yo and since she was mad that Yang kept saying it was HER yo-yo, Ruby clonked her on the head with the yo-yo and of course that dissolved into even more fighting, so Taiyang took the yo-yo from them. But then that only dissolved into even MORE fighting because they blamed each other for the loss of the yo-yo, and so Tai 'banned' all conversation of the yo-yo incident and even banned the word yo-yo and Yang and Ruby hold to that rule even as teenagers and will breakout into (now good natured) bickering about it if it comes up.

People sometimes think "if the RWBY writers did (insert thing they did here) it would be bad. Therefore they can't have done that, so what's the other explanation? I just must need to flex my imagination and fill in the blanks!" So then they see something like the show having Yang literally lie to Qrow's face and the show still four seasons later having not had that addressed despite the fact that Yang has been anti-lying to the point of angrily calling someone a bastard, and they're like "Well if Yang didn't tell the truth, she'd be a hypocrite. So she had to have told the truth and we just didn't see it, or else it would mean that the writers made a mistake. Why would someone say Yang has lied in the past when she clearly told the truth off screen!"

And it’s like.... Or... They got something wrong.... Or they made a mistake.

Some rwby fans will do this thing where they confuse 'I recognized the potential and imagined/headcanoned to fill in the holes left in this story to make it more enjoyable' with 'this story is great and actually DOESN'T HAVE HOLES.' It's like RT made a road that is full of holes in the concrete, and then when people are like 'wish this road wasn't full of holes,' other people come in like "um stop saying there are holes, clearly we're meant to pretend that the road is smooth and free of holes. How dare you call this bad construction and an incomplete road, the concrete is in the cement truck, duh. Why do you need your hand held?"

Before someone comes in and is like "so nothing that happens off screen can ever be considered canon?" that's not it. If it's established in canon that it happened, then it's different.

Let's use Volume 9 as an example! There's a scene where Weiss summarizes events she's been told including Yang's prosthetic being stolen. Obviously Yang had to have told her about it. I wouldn't be here like 'Why is Weiss acting like Yang told her something that isn't on screen?' I did however complain that the writers skipped over that conversation, because it left the interaction feeling stale, pointless, and it limited my connection to the characters because it bypassed all emotion that wasn't 'being done' and cynicism. But they established that it happened in some way, so if someone says 'Yang told the others what happened to her off screen,' I'd say 'yeah, she did, that was made clear."

However, then there's a mistake that Eddy Rivas himself said was a mistake where they decided 'Ruby should find out that Jaune killed Penny off-screen' and then they never gave any indication that she knew at all. So not only did they bypass what should've been included as an emotional scene that humanizes Ruby and clues the audience further into her mental state while seeming more respectful of a well-loved character, but they also fully made it seem like that interaction just didn't actually happen. So in the actual show, there's no reason to believe that Ruby has been told that Jaune killed Penny, and most people kept waiting for it to happen and then the whole season ended and we were confused about it because as far as people who don't follow Eddy Rivas on twitter are concerned, there's no reason to believe that it happened at all. 'It happened off screen' doesn't actually mean anything when there's no reason to believe that except that some people really want it to have happened.

Again, RWBY isn't real, and author's notes dropped after the fact only tell us about intent and do not alter what's actually presented to us in the actual product. Stuff doesn't just 'happen off screen, but it's still happened' the way that a documentary might not include all the footage, but the events still happened.

This post is running long, but yeah. When stuff doesn't actually happen on screen and isn't referenced and doesn't make it into the show and plot, it's not only disappointing - because that stuff should make it into the plot (I can't believe that there are bees shippers that just do not care that crucial moments and conversations that lay conflict to rest between their one true pairing just 'happen off screen' according to them like I would be kicking down doors for my ships) - but also makes that stuff not canon.

[howlingday]

CHIBI Arkos Angels

Jaune sat quietly as the clock ticked behind him. It ticked for every minute of every hour of every day since the dawn of times. In front of him sat his boss, who glanced over paper after paper of Jaune's recent mission on Remnant.

"So..." Jaune stiffened as he was spoken to. "You goofed up."

"Uh, I wouldn't say that-"

"Jaune, there are hundreds, if not thousands of people dead. The Grimm are running more rampant than before. Hell, even your partner died!" Those were pretty bad. "If you didn't goof up, then what do you call all that?!"

"...Growing pains?"

"Jaune..." There it was. The disappointed 'Jaune' he'd been getting since the dawn of everything everywhere all at once. Just once, he wished someone would cut him some slack.

Was Jaune perfect? No, of course not, no matter how much people told him. Well, how much he thought people told him, or spoke of him when he wasn't around. ...Okay, he wasn't perfect, but he was still wasn't all knowing or all seeing. That was the boss behind the desk.

"Come on, DAD-"

"It's not 'Dad,' okay?" Jaune pursed his lips. "You either call me boss, or sir, or, what I prefer, the Definitive Almighty of the Divine."

"Well, isn't it people's job to die?"

"Jaune, people don't get paid to die down there, so what makes you think we'd get paid up here for that, if at all?" Before Jaune could argue, the door clicked open. "There you are, Pyrrha."

"Hello, again~!"

"H-Hey, Pyrrha."

"Hello, Jaune."

"Everything squared away on your end?"

"Almost." Pyrrha said, sitting down next to her partner. "They said it should take at least another season before I can go back into the field."

"We're not police, Pyrrha." DAD said. "Our job is to make sure nothing too out of place happens in our jurisdiction. Unfortunately for Jaune, we're not as lax as the people in charge of Earth are. Have you seen the stuff they're allowed to get away with there?"

"So where does that leave us?"

"You are fine. Perfect as always. Jaune, on the other hand..." Jaune gulped. "This is your last warning. Either you do your job right, or you're getting reassigned somewhere else. Somewhere that is more willing put up with your shenanigans and 'good ideas'."

Jaune winced at that. Again, Jaune wasn't perfect, but he thought his ideas were good at the time.

He cut animal violence down by half! Sure, it led to creation and following racially charged persecution of the newly dubbed 'Faunus' people. Sadly, Jaune went too far on that one and Remnant was stuck with them, just like when the Brother of Darkness screwed up and made the Grimm to spit his brother. Seriously, how was he supposed to know the Faunus would band together and form the terrorist organization that led to his other mistake, which DAD continuously referred to as "The Volume Three Finale" for some strange reason.

Or the time he let Salem rise to power. She seemed like a nice girl, and hey, if one of the Brothers refused to help her, why not try the other? He was always the nicer guy of the two, even if he did ask for something or another in return. Like Jaune's cheese-fries. Always Jaune's cheese-fries. When he was later confronted by the Brother of Light, he offered the idea to keep resurrecting her dead lover over the centuries. True love conquers all, right?

Then there was the-

"ARC!" Jaune jumped in his seat at the sudden, booming voice. "This will be your last chance. Pyrrha will join you later, but for now, your job is to not screw up and keep the people of Remnant of alive this time." DAD gave Jaune a file. Opening it, he glanced between DAD and the assignment details in his hands.

"Calmly Help Inhabitants Become Illustrious." said the words on the page.

"Chibi?" Jaune asked.

"IT'S NOT-" DAD stopped. "Fine. It's Chibi. Call it whatever you want, but DON'T screw this up! You're on thin ice, Jaune!"

"Da- Er, sir? The mortality rate is so low, it's almost cartoonish."

"Exactly." DAD said. "Enjoy your new, wacky comedy assignment, Arkos."