#holy shit I really did just learn something about my family tonight that makes DE hit so personal

[palin-tropos]

.

[desire-tenderness]

𝔹𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖

{This is a fanfic dreamed and desired. All I write about is my feelings, sensations and desires.  TEXT BY: L.M} Day 1 - Embark on the dazzle. October 9, 2023, Monday. I am exhausted, the recording will begin on Tuesday at 11 am. I think I slept only 3 hours and 20 minutes or I’m just kicking it out loud. This was a very tiring trip I confess. Maybe because it was almost a change of two months and a week. On the bright side, the production has provided a nice apartment for me to live in. My new home is beautiful and comfortable, one block away from Crescent Street, here in Montreal - Canada. Honestly, I can’t believe I’m finally having the opportunity to work with Xavier Dolan, I left my family in Brazil to embark on this dream, I already miss them. I should tell you that I have no idea of the cast that will be on this project, but the script looks fabulous. Before I embarked on this opportunity, I realized a portion of the dream. I and 7 other members of the team dined with Dolan last Thursday, debated the first decupagents and agendas. We had already read the script before the meeting, is it a low-budget experimental drama, and honestly? I lost my breath. I’m not in the position of art director I’ve always dreamed of, but I’m in the position where I have full knowledge and experience. Curious, I am not trembling with nerves, I am completely at peace with this realization. However, very anxious. We’re less than two hours away from reuniting in Saint-Laurent with the cast of "A race by Joseph". [.... ] - Less than two hours later. Okay, I’m about to get my guts out from all the nerves. I’ve heard of some names on the list of actors, including Troye Sivan, Vincent Cassel, and Louise Coldefy. The team is sensational and fucking, Xavier is like a master for me. I need to make these days my best college. I’m at home/rental number six, it’s wonderful. I can see two cars coming through the window, and "God bless me so that Suzanne Clément is in this cast" [Spoiler, I wasn’t, I had to accept], I think I’m going to have an anxiety attack, I need to splash water on my face. I lost count of how many times I filled my hands with water and threw it in my face, I needed to understand that I was really living this moment. I came out of the bathroom apprehensive. Céline handed me a cup of tea mix of Sage, Eucalyptus, Lemon Peel and said "Hey, relax, I’ll see you in the living room.. ah, one more thing, don’t freak out". I feel a chill creeping all over my body as I walk through the door frame. Everyone was waiting for me in the room so we could debate the first two weeks of the recording. I could feel my legs swaying to the point of not having enough sustenance to stand. Timothée Chalamet was sitting on the arm of Dolan’s armchair in silence, reading what would be the 4°page of some document. Quickly he gets up and presents himself squeezing my hand gently. Silence has taken over the environment, I don’t remember my name. [I remembered! ] It was remarkable how difficult he was to pronounce it, it made it all very comical, in seconds we were all laughing. At that time, other cast members performed, but my thoughts were so far away that I don’t know if I missed any important information. [Damn, how many questions are going through my head right now? I don’t even have control over them. Stop! Focus, your future depends on this delivery. ]

[.... ] With the passing of the hours I was reasonably more relaxed and with an unparalleled feeling of gratitude for what was happening to me. We discussed the script, much of it together, the day was very productive. I kept looking at him, he’s so funny and authentic, I feel comfortable now. Obviously we wouldn’t be friends, he wouldn’t notice an assistant director [even though I’m the director’s right-hand man]. The team will be dining with the cast soon, it’s 5:47 pm and I haven’t been able to confirm my presence at this dinner. What’s my problem?! Celine: You’ll go, right? We’ll go home together and unpack. Me: Oh Céli, I don’t think I will. I have a lot to pack, tomorrow starts the recordings and I want to do everything right. Celine: No, you are not going to organize things by yourself. Nor has dinner there in the house, let’s eat please, I’m starving. Think you need to catch up! Me: Relax Celi, I’ll do things in my time, have a wine while I cook something and sleep early. Look, Wednesday we won’t record.. We can go downtown and get a quick look at the city, what do you think? Celine: You’re hopeless. Well, I’ll tell you about it. Arriving at the apartment I opened all the windows, and went to cook thinking about what the following days would be like. I decided then that I should not intensify anything, it could disrupt me at work and I can’t let my impulsive Aryan side get out of hand. I decided to go to the disco and see what the last song the host of the apartment heard. Well, did you start playing Nick Drake’s Pink Moon and honestly? I can’t let the pink moon get me. Fuck, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life, it’s as fascinating as on screens or in photographs. [Stop! Concentrate. ] [...] 00:01 am The wine bottle is 98% empty now. I have not yet fallen asleep and Celine is already in her 8th deepest sleep. I need to sleep. She said that they were so energized, that the team’s relationship is great and that she ate a delicious Poutine, I found it very courageous for those who will spend the whole day recording tomorrow.  [I’m laughing alone while imagining a disaster] I will sleep and tomorrow will be the first day of my life. I swear I was born now and suddenly everything changed. Things will be built from now on. Timothée Chalamet? I hear you’re a good actor, I don’t know you. Good night and see you soon.

Part 2

Day 50 - And I’m probably happy, could it be different? November 27, 2023, Friday. There are times I do not write in this "virtual diary", my days are super busy. Today we finish the work a little earlier, we finish the movie! I think it’s 4:00 now. Right, and why did I come back to write? Well, I wanted to forget the feeling that took me completely 50 days ago. But today something has happened that does not allow me to escape any feeling that exists here. Louise is severely ill, Christ! We’re at the end of the shoot, she’s Timothée’s date, missing four takes of a kiss between them for her last acting scene. Dolan needed two different angles and he didn’t have a voice voice available so suddenly. Louise and I have very similar hair and what I feared went through Dolan’s mind. "Be the Double" he said. Yeah, Chalamet and I kissed today, and, hell, there was no professionalism on my part or for a millisecond, I feel terrible! I felt like I had been thrown out of a plane and I was in a free fall. My heart had never accelerated so much. My fantasy almost made me believe that one of the butterflies in my stomach was coming out of my mouth 1 minute later. Holy shit! [What if it was not reciprocal? Of course it was not, silly! We are friends. ] I’m so pissed about it, I’ll tell them why.

All these days I’ve really become friends with Timothée, can you believe it? I’ve always been very afraid to talk to him because he doesn’t find me interesting enough. But we have an unusual tune. We had a lot of coffee together, a lot of claquettes I hit due to recording mistakes, we went out with the guys several times, even "alone" and that’s okay, we talked about Brazil and he made sure to go there anytime, I even smoked one of his cigarettes, even hating cigarettes. We were talking about how funny Vincent is and how amazing he is, and we were talking about how they were both working for the first time with Xavier Dolan. We laughed at stupid things until the belly hurt and even bet race in the parking lot next to the location. [He won, of course, has huge legs].

One day we were together cutting fruit for the rest of the team on the set as we talked about Georges de La Tour, "That ordinary painter" I said, and he gave a delicious laugh. He’s much simpler than I thought he could be, carries an admirable humility. And I swear, it was fine, because I was fascinated by that friendship and I could feel that it would last for many years. I’ve learned to deal with your stunning beauty. I liked the way he accepted me and had fun with me. He didn’t think I was silly. I was working for a salary and a bright future, and suddenly I felt I had won the lottery until that moment after the kiss. I feel like I’m failing at my resolve. To finish screwing with my mind, Celine told me something that made me much more sensitive about a feeling that, I swear, once again, I had managed to forget. Although I often fantasized that a mood was going on, I knew it was impossible. He definitely sees me as the cool girl makes him laugh and that he can truly trust. Celine: Look. I, for recklessness, overheard Timothée talking to Troye about you. I did not hear enough but I must say that your tone of voice was of pure indignation... Troye said, "She’s the kind of girl you want so much, you feel sorry for". Me: God damn it, did he hate my kiss?! I’m going to die, Celine! Troye clearly should be making fun of the situation. Who am I supposed to show up at Dolan’s tomorrow for dinner? Celine: Calm friend, you are traveling.. I have noticed things and I will not open my mouth. Everything will be fine, seriously.. kiss the chalamet? How can you be angry about that? [laughed] By the way, tomorrow after dinner, I’ve arranged to spend the night at Julie’s, do you want to go? Me: Oh.. I’m not in the mood to hear Julie talk all night about the new vegan recipes, sorry, pal. Celine: Okay.. I won’t bring you nice things. [My phone vibrated. I was reluctant to look, but it could be work.. ] Text Msg Timothée: I hope you’re okay, you seemed strange going away. Want to talk? By the way, you did well in tonight’s performance, you should try harder. Me: Says my angel, how are you? I am well, of course I am. [laughs nervously and it was noticeable] I was just nervous to have to act for Dolan and know that I will see myself on a movie screen, even if at closed angles. By the way, Mr. Chalamet, thank you very much. I have the seal of approval that interests me hahah Msg of text Timothée: I like it. See you tomorrow? Me: Yes, of course, until tomorrow! Msg of text Timothée: [video uploaded]

Part 3

Day 51 - Ecstasy, landscape of the soul. November 29th, 2023, Sunday morning. I don’t know how to write about how last night went.. I was upset, but I remember everything. I won’t be able to keep this journal after that I’ll tell. We were all gathered at Dolan’s house, drinking and laughing a lot, toasting to finish this incredible project. I already felt completely dizzy and with the warm body, things kept spinning in my head, it was so beautiful. He wore a leather jacket over the green sweatshirt, had a golf cap (Odd Future) hanging on one of the pants straps where his belt was, the black jeans almost on his knee and a red vans, and that hair.. that hair! It’s like a restless ocean. I was wishing to walk across the room and kiss him again with all the intensity that belongs to me, he would like it this time. My body was on fire, suddenly I was frozen, it’s coming toward me. I knew I could spoil any conversation by being totally random and awkward, I was dying of shame in advance. Timothée: Are you happy? Me: Sure, congratulations! You did a great job, I’m very proud of all of you. Timothée: Thank you, but none of this would have been the same if you weren’t on the team, right? Me: Right! [Cheers] [Silence] Timothée: What are you thinking right now? Me: Who you are, Where you’re from, don’t care what you Did as long as you love me..[I started singing As Long As You Love Me by the Backstreet Boys, really?] Timothée: Oh my God! [He laughed almost for the world to hear]. Are you going to Julie’s with Céline? There’s going to be a vegan class. I’d like a pizza, okay? Me: Look.. I also wanted a pizza instead of vegan food.. But I’m getting dizzy and I think I’m gonna go home and do my drunken show in the shower. Timothée: Ah.. Right, you’re dizzy, but you still know how many fingers you have here? [He did an 8 with his fingers] Me: Yes, of course. I’m fine, man, I’m weak but not that weak. Give me a skateboard there! [I screamed, and they didn’t take me seriously] Timothée: So.. we can go for a coffee to break the alcohol and fill the stomach with a piece of pizza, what do you think? Me: Wooah! Come on, send world pizza! [I couldn’t say no, I was completely taken. ]     We got to what used to be a kind of blinker-light coffee, it had a super-hot vibe. We sat down and made the request, we laughed drunk and said nothing that made sense, I felt our friendship alive again. However, the silence and the exchange of looks came, so we could hear the music that played in the background. It was "And I Love Her" by the Beatles”. Suddenly he began to sing. Timothée: "She gives me Everything and Tenderly. The Kiss my Lover brings, she brings to me and I love her." Me: Yeah.. beautiful music. You sing over and over again better than me. When did you start playing music? [My hands started sweating] Timothée: [he laughed] Are you all right? Me: Timmy. .ah.. I think I’m going home to take another shower, rest and call my family, I don’t know. Timothée: Okay, I’ll accompany you, I can’t let you go back alone so late. Me: You don’t need my angel. I’m a ninja! [I made the shameful gesture of a martial coup and tripped. The truth is I wanted him to insist] Timothée: Without that [laughed] let’s go!

We got to the apartment, he came up with me and put his coat on the couch. I offered him water, am I pathetic? He said he did not want to, but that if possible, he would like to stay. I felt as if we were talking by telepathy, I am not crazy. He feels the same. I said he could stay, even super apprehensive. I took two cigarettes from Kumbaya that I made on Tuesday and shouted from the room "let’s get some air on the balcony while we smoke!?". Upon returning to the room, he had put Cigarettes after sex to play, silently. Nothing but the music. Breaths. Another dose of silence. My body pumped blood with so much speed, [says something] I thought. He touched my right hand and looked at me. Those green eyes made me feel warm inside as never before. I got up the courage to pull him to the balcony that led to the fire escape. The sky was beautiful and the wind touching our faces was like a sky giveaway, I needed that fresh night air. Timothée: Do you need me to say it? I can say it. Me: I know what you’re going to say and I’m terrified. You want me too. Timothée: I want to. You make me feel good. I feel my presence truly when I share a moment with you. "Sometimes I think I’ve felt everything I’m going to feel in my life. And from now on, I won’t feel anything new. " Me: I promise that one day I will feel that everything is right. but it feels so wrong. Man, I feel like I’m living a fanfic, and I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and none of this ever happened, or worse, if it’s real, our friendship being compromised by what’s possibly going to happen here. He put his hands on my face, kissed my forehead. Timothée: The heart is not like a box that fills, L. It expands in size, the more you love someone. I’m different from you. It doesn’t make me love you any less. It actually makes me love you more. I want you. Me: Right.. We are here only briefly, and at this moment I want to allow myself joy. I want that, Timothée. And I promise that one day I will feel like everything is fine. He lovingly bowed to touch his lips to mine. Feeling those soft lips against mine, it was almost like an apocalyptic sensation, the world could end right there, would have no problem. We kissed as we entered through the large window of the room, the first pieces of clothing filling the lonely floor of the room. The music Sunsetz conducted our intimate dance. The words "you have to do the right thing, do the right thing" started to disappear from my head.

I feel overflowing out of the body, sensitive, I am under the effect of exaltation, very intense feelings of joy, pleasure, admiration, reverent awe... Timothée. I truly love him. We are lying on the living room floor, apparently wrapped in a curtain that has been disastrously removed. Timothée, his breath is hot, the sound coming out of his mouth shivers my body. We were like the painting of Egon Schiele - Gli Amanti (L'Abbraccio).

Blackout. Light. The voice of an angel reaches my ear. My eyes open. He looked at me in silence, I could smell his mildly sweet citrus smell all over the room. Its aroma stimulates my sensations. Timothée: I’ll make you a cup of coffee. I’ll be careful with the amount of sugar, it’ll be just the way you like it. Keep lying down, angel. Geez, what happens now? I don’t know, he doesn’t know, you don’t know. Anyway, I feel complete.

[edspageds]

I’d love a “I think we were too loud last night” !!!

Prompt: “I think we were too loud last night”

Ship: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier - Reddie

Rating: M

I had more of a funny idea for this one, so hope you like!

Send me your prompts! <3

Eddie awkwardly shovels another spoon full of sweet potatoes into his mouth. The normally delicious meal turning to ash on his tongue. Mr. and Mrs. Tozier carving into the holiday ham like they didn’t hear Eddie cum all over the guestroom desk (Or, Richie’s Room, as his husband insists it be called. Despite everything Richie related having been purged from the room for years in favor of doilies and colourful fake flowers and anything else you’d expect an elderly women to collect.) Either their hearing really is starting to go, or the two of them have the ability to keep remarkably straight faces. 

He didn’t think anything of it at first. Richie’s fingers in his mouth, pressing down on his tongue mostly muffled his sounds, save the ‘thump, thump, thump’ of the desk nudging into the wall on each thrust. 

But, mostly muffled still isn’t quiet. 

It’s not until he’s downstairs the next day, helping Mr. Tozier peel potatoes for this very meal, hearing Richie hum in the shower a full floor away like he’s in the next room that he realizes his horrible mistake.

“So, uh. Do. Do you normally hear things that well?”

Idle conversation Eddie, just idle conversation. 

Wentworth smiles innocently enough, and Eddie isn’t sure if he’s mocking him or not. “You bet your fur!”

He says like it’s some inside joke to say an old timey saying no one uses anymore. “If I knew the kind of boy we’d be raising! Should have listened when they told us these walls were thin. Thought it’d help hear when that boy was up to trouble. But, it mostly wakes us up anytime someone flushes, ha! You learn to tune it out, like a sleep-sound.”

Which means he heard. He heard them, and is just being polite with the best poker face Eddie’s ever seen. Or, he mistook the sounds for something else. Maybe the ‘thump, thump, thump’ could be mistaken for the rattling of pipes. 

Yeah, but what the hell did they think his moaning was? Fucking cats in heat?

Especially when Richie pulled out, his cheeks clenching around the void left by his cock. Only to be replace by his fingers, fucking his-

“Cream? For your potatoes, dear, does it need more? I’m worried it was a touch dry.”

Eddie chokes on a grin. “Nope. I’m good. It’s good. De-lici-ous”

Richie, however, shoves food into his gullet like he doesn’t know the meaning of shame. His whole plate scrambled together into who knows what, gravy on potatoes, on meat, on stuffing. 

Which. Okay. It’s Richie, so that’s probably true. But, his parents heard them fucking, and Eddie can’t be the only one freaking out about that here.

And how can they just smile through a meal, knowing this? Eddie knows they know. If this were reversed, and they were at Sonia’s, she would have pulled Richie out of the house by his ear and thrown him on the lawn. Making a nice spectacle for all the families on their street home for the holidays. 

Eddie lasts maybe two seconds after Mr. Tozier heads to the kitchen to get the desert, and Mrs. Tozier insists on taking their plates and refuses even the notion of help before he’s whispering harshly to Richie. “What the fuck?”

If Eddie could read Richie’s mind (a small mercy that no one can), he’d hear him run through a check list of all of Eddie’s angry expressions. And, also wonder if it’s worth it to burp like he was going to, or if Eddie will pinch him in the side for being gross. But, he also kinda wants Eddie to pinch him in the side, cause he likes the attention, and Eddie never actually hurts him when he does it. It’s just nice to feel his touch, like an overgrown cat, he preens into it no matter how small. 

Richie’s mind races ahead of his mouth, that matches his thoughts in a rather eloquent “Uh...?”

Eddie huffs leaning in close, eyes on the door like a whole circus is about to bust in. “I think we were too loud last night!” He hisses.

The ornate grandfather clock tick-tocks in the silence.

“Wha-pfft- no, Eds. Baby, holy shit, see my parents-”

Mrs. Tozier walks in and Eddie slams a kiss to Richie’s mouth to shut him up. Richie melts into it, overfull and stated from the meal, warmth exploding in bubbling pops in his gut. Which works perfectly as his face was already bright red, but at least now he as an excuse when he pulls back to meet Maggie’s soft eyes. 

“You know, I’m so happy my Richie found you again. You boys were always so close, it’s nice to see some things don’t change.”

Eddie flushes red for a reason that isn’t embarrassment for the first time this evening. 

Maggie takes her seat, and Wentworth follows right after, pie in one hand, ice cream in the other. And the tender familial moment is enough to think, maybe he should just let it go. Clearly neither Tozier parent were willing to bring it up, and they didn’t seem in the least uncomfortable. Far be it for Eddie to ruin such a wholesome moment.

Oh no, that’s what his husband is for.

“So,” Richie says so casually between mouthfuls of fresh strawberry rhubarb pie Eddie doesn’t see the warning sign. “You hear us fucking last night?”

Maggie chokes, admonishing him like it’s second nature. “Richie, language!”

Wentworth doesn’t even bat an eye, speaking with a full mouth. “Oh, no trouble like that son. Couldn’t hear you over knocking boots with your mom.” He winks in a very Richie way and Eddie is horrified to learn it’s inherited.

They share a good laugh, and Richie just smiles like he knows an even bigger joke in all this. “Still keeping the corks in? You know you’ll have a break in one day and won’t hear a thing.”

“The only breaks we have to worry about here, is break outs from the hoosegow. Still got a bounty on one Richie the Kid.”

Eddie wants to thump his head on the table, but Richie places a comforting hand on his thigh, the warmth soothing him. “Hear he goes by Richie the Man now. Keep the feelers out tonight, he’s got a partner-in-crime, and that ones a wild stallion, and their known to be loud.”

His eyes say it all, but he laughs innocently enough while Eddie wants to smother them both under twenty-three blankets.

Eddie would like to say he had the self-restraint to be respectful after that, even if they couldn’t be heard, it’s still a risk. (As if that wasn’t half the fun.)

Besides, as Richie said, he can’t help it. 

This stallions a loud one.

[hms-chill]

Secondly: Alex always saying sweet things to Henry in Spanish but won't tell him what any of it means, and he's always google translating them and awe-ing at how cute Alex is and then like maybe he learns how to say something adorable to and says it to Alex and Alex just like melts or something

I present to you: “Speaking My Language”

“¿Lo amas, cierto?”

“Por supuesto. Lo amo más que a nada.”

Henry, resting his head on his boyfriend’s lap, blinks up at Alex and hums a question. He’s too jet lagged to be paying attention to the Diaz conversation happening above him, even if it was in English, but Alex sounds so happy. Henry isn’t used to that tender tone being used for anyone or anything other than him, but Alex just strokes his hair and says, “It’s nothing, baby.”

“Are you talking about me?”

“Nah; we’re talking policy. Boring American things. Sleep, Corazón.”

That hadn’t sounded like Alex’s politics tone, but Henry is too tired to care too much in the moment. Instead, his brain sticks on the last word, and he asks, “What’s that mean?”

“It means I love you.”

“I love you.” Henry turns his head to kiss Alex’s wrist, and as he closes his eyes, he hears Alex say, “Papá, lo amo tanto. Más de lo que nunca pensé que podría amar a nadie en el mundo.”

“Y yo los amo a los dos, mijo. Mis hijos.” Oscar comes to sit on the couch next to Alex, pulling him into a hug, and Alex is so full of love he thinks he might burst. Henry feels Alex’s hand stop moving through his hair and presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s jeans, and Alex squeezes his shoulder gently before going back to playing with Henry’s hair. Just before he falls asleep, Henry hears Alex start to sing in Spanish, Oscar joining him. The last thought that crosses Henry’s jet-lagged mind is that he should learn Spanish.

-

He starts with Duolingo, just like anyone else who wants to learn a language, building his vocabulary in pieces on the way to the shelter or in other stolen moments. Some of the kids at the youth shelter speak Spanish, or are taking it in school, and he practices with them, fumbling his way through sentences and making sure they take him off any princely pedistels they might have him on. When he can, he’ll get lessons from them or, occasionally, from June over the phone. He holds onto the things that made Alex happiest, and once he figures out which kids will tell him the truth, he asks one of them what “Corazón” means. She grins.

“That means ‘heart’. It’s a term of endearment sometimes, like ‘sweetheart’, but without the sweet part and more personal? So more like 'you’re my heart’? It means the person who said it loves you a lot.” Henry smiles, and she asks, “Where’d you hear it?”

“My boyfriend. He and his dad were speaking Spanish, and I asked what they said. He said it was nothing, but I’m not so sure. I think he’s just shy. What about “amo”? I heard that a lot; what does it mean?“

"That’s 'I love’,” the girl says, smiling at him, and Henry blushes. He’s heard that word quite a bit in Alex’s Spanish conversations.

“One more? What… what does "hijos” mean? His dad called us that, and it made him really happy, but I think I keep spelling it wrong when I try to translate it.“

"That’s… 'sons’, translated literally. Or like… 'boys’? But not like 'those boys over there’, more like 'kiddos’ sort of? Did you hear any context?”

“I think it was just 'mis hijos’.”

“'My sons’ or 'my boys’, then. What?”

“It’s… thank you. You’re the best,” Henry says past the lump in his throat.

“Henry? You okay?”

“I’m fine; thank you, really. How’s your homework coming? Want me to proofread your essay?”

“Sure. Then you should tell me more of the things your boyfriend says about you.”

Henry laughs, turning to her essay. Still, there’s a warmth in his chest that he hadn’t expected.

Mis hijos. My boys.

-

Bea finds out what he’s doing, probably from June, and she’s the one who gets him connected with a tutor. It’s a birthday gift, and she makes sure to find someone who can be flexible and chat when Alex isn’t around. Somehow, the lessons feel like something Alex doesn’t need to know about. If he knew, he might stop murmuring Spanish phrases before they go to bed. He might stop talking to his family or the kids at the shelter in Spanish, or at least, it would feel less secretive. Plus, personally, Henry wants to wait until he’s conversational to reveal his newfound ability.

The bonus of Alex’s not knowing Henry can speak a bit of Spanish is that Henry gets to hear his say things he’s too embarrassed or shy to say in English. “Te amo”, I love you, is a common one, murmured before bed or in response to a morning coffee. “Dios mio”, my god, isn’t rare, and neither is “puto/a/x” (fucker/bitch). But then there are things like “me encantas”, which his tutor translates as “you enchant me”, or “eres mi mundo, mi cielo, y todas mis estrellas”. That one comes late enough that Henry can translate some of it on his own, and he makes sure to google “cielo” and “mundo” on the way into work the next morning. He melts in the back of the car. Apparently, he’s Alex’s world, his sky, and all his stars.

-

He’s thought about when to reveal his new talent. He’d considered proposing in Spanish, but being married to a prince could be detrimental to Alex’s career, and they’ve already promised each other forever. They’ve talked about it, but no matter how desperate the world is for another royal wedding, neither of them feel the need to jump through every international legal hoop. They love each other, and besides, Henry’s already given Alex a ring. It hangs around his neck every day, a constant reminder of their promise. Alex had noticed him rubbing the skin where it used to sit and picked up a simple gold band, just big enough to fiddle with, so perhaps they’ve already gotten accidentally engaged.

Instead, he considers Alex’s birthday, waking him up with kisses and Spanish terms of endearment. It would make a nice gift, and it’ll give him time to clean up his conjugation a bit.

As it turns out, he slips up well before March.

Henry never celebrated Thanksgiving before he started dating Alex, and last year, he had to be in London so he could be in DC for Christmas. He knows about the holiday and its turkey-based chaos, of course, but they don’t celebrate it in England. So when he and Alex get dressed up and board the train to DC with a big plate of biscuits and David in a carrier, he’s not entirely sure what to expect. They’re supposed to be meeting Oscar at the train station, then going to the White House for some sort of family dinner tonight and a public appearance or two tomorrow, but beyond that, he’s unsure.

“Henry? It’s going to be fine. My family loves you; there’s no reason to be nervous.”

“I know. I know it’ll be fine; it just feels a bit weird. I’ve never celebrated Thanksgiving.”

“Right, well, I got you something for that.”

Alex pulls out a gift bag, and Henry takes it with a slight frown. “What’s this?”

“Open it.” Alex’s grin is shit-eating, and he beams when Henry sees what’s inside. It’s a tiny t-shirt that says “My First Thanksgiving!”.

“Thanks.”

“There’s a bib too; it came as a set. And as a bonus, I commissioned one in your size, and you’ve got to wear it tomorrow.”

He’s pulled out a crew neck sweatshirt with the same design as the baby shirt, complete with a cartoon turkey holding a knife and fork. It says “Stuffing” on the back, and when he flips the smaller one over, it says “Cornbread”.

“It’s after the turkeys who made me call you that first time. But for real, I thought maybe David could wear the baby one, since it’s his first Thanksgiving, too. And you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want; Nora and I were on Etsy together and–”

Henry cuts him off with a kiss, then says, “I’ll wear it. Es perfecto.” It’s perfect.

“¿Te gusta? ¿De verdad?“ You like it? Of verdad?

"Um, sí?” It comes out more of a question than he was anticipating, and Henry gets the distinct joy of watching Alex’s brain catch up to the rest of him.

“Wait, you know Spanish? You don’t speak Spanish. Do you?”

“Un poco.” A bit.

“You son of a bitch. How long have you known Spanish?”

“Um, a few months? Maybe? I wanted to learn after that night you called me 'Corazón’. Your… you sounded so happy, and I wanted to know what was happening.” And your dad called us his boys. I wanted to know what he said that made you so happy, and it was that he called us his boys.

“You little shit. I love you so much.”

“Te amo,” Henry says, watching Alex’s smile shift into something quieter, more personal. More full of love.

“Te amo para siempre.”

“I… you love me forever?”

“And ever and ever and ever,” Alex says. After a moment, he adds, “Does this mean we can talk shit in public now?”

“I’m not very good yet, but maybe? Right now, I can tell you I love you more publically.”

“That’s more important. Holy shit, now I can tell you how much I love you in front of your family. Henry. Te amo. Te adoro. That’s 'I adore you’. Um, let’s see, what else.” And for the rest of the train ride, Alex teaches Henry the basic Spanish he needs to know, which consists of a lovely mix of insults and terms of endearment.

When they get off at the station, Oscar is waiting for them with a massive grin, big hugs, and a cheer of, “Mis hijos!”

Henry feels Alex tense up for a second before he’s swept into Oscar’s hug, and he makes a mental note to ask about that. But then he’s getting a hug, too, and Alex is opening David’s carrier and getting his leash on, and they’ve got an excited beagle to deal with, and they’re all piling into a van to the White House. Things are equally hectic there, down to the two new turkeys (Potatoes and Green Bean) who’ve taken up residence in Alex’s room.

It isn’t until they’re in bed that night, trying to ignore Green Bean’s stare, that Henry gets a chance to ask, “Everything alright?”

“Everything’s perfect. Tomorrow I get to watch you wear a stupid sweater and eat loads with my family. Why?”

“You… you tensed up when we met up with your dad.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I… it’s just… he called us hijos, and you… do you know that one yet?”

“Yeah, I… one of the kids explained it to me.”

“I just… I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it. I know he’s used it before, but I also know you miss your dad a lot, and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. You don’t have to be okay with it; I can ask him to stop if you want and he’ll get it. He doesn’t mean to replace your dad or anything; I know he doesn’t. But he loves you a lot. They all do. We all do. Them not as much as me, obviously, but seriously. You’re… we all think of you as family.”

“I… I know. And it makes me happy. When your dad calls us hijos, I mean. It… it’s nice.”

Alex grins at that, cuddling in closer. Then Green Bean gobbles, and Alex lets out a quiet, “Dios mio.” Henry laughs.

“You sure you don’t want to sleep in my room?”

“I think that might be wise. I thought I could beat them this year, I really did.”

“Hold on a second; get the lights on?” Henry asks. Alex does, and Henry opens his instagram stories.

“So, I’m in the White House, it’s around midnight, maybe? We’ve got to be up for an appearance around nine tomorrow morning, and I’m going to show you all my very favorite Thanksgiving tradition. It’s when this one,” he flips the camera to Alex, who’s eyeing Green Bean suspiciously, “insists on keeping two live turkeys in his room instead of letting them spend a night in a hotel. Then, he gets scared–”

“I am not scared! I’m wary. Intelligently so; I’ve seen Jurassic Park.”

“He gets wary, and he calls me to protect him. That’s right, Alex. Let the motherland look after you. I’ll keep you safe from these vicious American monsters.” He stops the recording on a shot of himself hugging Alex protectively, and Alex agrees to let him post it on two conditions: “You wear the 'my first Thanksgiving’ sweatshirt on live TV, and I get a recording of you speaking Spanish.”

“I’ll butcher the Spanish.”

“It doesn’t matter. If you post that, I get a recording of you speaking Spanish.”

Henry agrees as they make it to his room, falling into bed together, happy to be out from under Green Bean’s watchful eyes. Alex falls asleep first, and Henry reaches for his phone. He’s not sure how often Alex uses voice memos, but there’s a recent recording, so Henry starts another titled “Corazón” and says, softly enough not to wake him, “Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, eres mi mundo, mi cielo, y todas mis estrellas. Me encantas, y te amo. Te amo muchísimo. Eres el novio de mis fantasías, y soy la persona más feliz del mundo contigo. Te amo, corazón.”

Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, you are my world, my sky, and all my stars. You enchant me, and I love you. I love you so much. You are the boyfriend of my dreams, and I am happier than anyone in the world with you. I love you, my heart.

On AO3

Notes:

Please excuse my Spanish; I was mediocre four years ago and haven’t practiced since. But here are some (intended) translations for the first conversation, which I believe is the only untranslated bit:“You love him, yeah?”“Of course. I love him more than anything.”…“Dad, I love him so much. More than I ever thought I could love anything in the world.”“And I love you both, son. My boys”

Edit: A massive shoutout to @felinarealista for fixing my Spanish; you’re an angel

[lore-a-lie]

Chapter 1, Act 6: Clair de Loon

Daily Life

Kaede finally got to take her seat at the piano. It feels like it’s been ages since she was last able to play, she hadn’t spent nearly enough time in her lab since it opened. She’s glad she left the gloves Tsumugi gave her in her bag, so she could enjoy the feel of the ivory keys at her fingertips. Feel the music flow through her, around her. She could hardly even notice anyone else around her in that moment.

Which is how the little mage managed to startle her so badly with her innocent interruption, and Kaede hit her knee against the underside of said piano something fierce.

“N-nyeh? Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, of course I am! What’s going on, sorry I kinda went in my own little world there for a bit.” (Nothing is okay. Everything is hell and it hurts.Why me? But I better keep smiling, so nobody needs to worry.)

“Nah, it’s okay. I do it all the time too.” (We’ve noticed. Not sure you aren’t still in it.)

“Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah. Just wanted to tell you how pretty it sounded and thought me talking to you would be less jarring than Tenko since she’s headed this way. Sorry.”

“Kaede~ And Himiko! What do you think? Isn’t this cute~ I feel like a princess!” Tenko sing-songed right on cue, giving a twirl of a curtsy as she did. Not that Himiko was paying her any attention. (It would probably be cuter if I didn’t know her personality or need to worry about how she’d react to a guy agreeing.)

It was an elegant blue ball gown, the color not unlike her uniform’s. The dress’s ruffles even mimicked her normal skirt’s layered style, just to a much more modest degree. Her hair was done in a much more understandable set of buns too, tied with little green bows like the one large one she normally had.

“It’s beautiful on you Tenko. I didn’t know you’d be so comfortable in that sort of thing. Almost expected you in a suit like Himiko, for mobility or something.”

“Yeah, it looks great. And that reminds me…” Himiko began as an oddly serious expression came across her face. “Make fun of Kiyo’s clothes and I’ll hex you both. I mean it. I’ll use my “every time you sneeze you’ll think you’d had an accident” curse and everything, so you better be nice.”

“W-what sort of accident?! And what qualifies as “making fun of” for this? What did he do?!”

The tiny girl didn’t answer Tenko’s question as she ran off to have some words with… Maki? No, the hair wasn’t long enough for Maki. And she wasn’t anywhere near six feet tall-

Okay, now this just isn’t fair. (It is quite the relief though, I was worried it’d be something more drastic.)

Kiyo’s definition of “more comfortable” for the evening was apparently a red woman’s kimono with an orange and blue floral pattern, tied with an orange and green scale patterned obi. The mask was off as per Kokichi’s petty request, but aside from that and his hands, the dress covered nearly as much as his regular clothing did, though he had quite a heel on his brown zori. His hat was gone but he had taken his odd chain off its band to use in his hair for now.

AND HE’S ACTUALLY ATTRACTIVE NOW, THIS ISN’T FAIR! I’ve never been able to pull off even a simple yukata that well during the summer’s festival season, what gives? And why does Kiyo of all people look better like this than he does in his normal clothes!… Oh dear. Does this mean I didn’t know myself as well as I thought I did when I got up this morning? I was not ready to go through something like this today...

“Oh wow she looks amazing- W-wait, that’s not… Was Tenko mistaken in thinking Kiyo’s been another degenerate male this whole time?! Has this all been some sort of act? She is not okay with any of this!”

“Nope, he’s still definitely a guy, his sister even called him “little brother”. But I’m pretty sure the way I’m thinking about him right now is still a sign of something new and I don’t know how to feel about that either.”

“Not necessarily but thank you for the compliment.” The person in question's voice came from behind them in a needlessly cheery fashion, having lost Himiko to Angie. (HOLY SHIT HOW DOES HE STILL DO THE NINJA THING IN HEELS?!… HOW DOES HE WALK IN SHOES LIKE THOSE??? There is no justice in this world.)

Tenko’s squawk returned so it sounds like Kaede wasn’t the only one to forget how Kiyo could move like a ghost. Considering her misandry, reaction times, and combat experience it’s probably more impressive to shock her. Her responses are certainly more amusing and vocal, given how he’s gone into a giggle fit.

“... Why?” (Thank you Tenko for being able to restrain yourself to only one question. I wouldn’t.)

“I hardly saw a reason why not to give this a try. I thought it would be more interesting to see how I’d be received while looking like this. I don’t feel like... “myself” without my mask anymore I suppose, so why should I look like "myself" with it gone? Miss Shirogane’s eager acceptance and comparisons to her hobby’s notions regarding "crossplaying" were already pleasant surprises for this study.” (“Miss Shirogane” is oddly formal for him to use isn’t it?)

“Did she help you with the lipstick and eyeshadow too?”

“No, that’s my handiwork. A steady hand is infinitely useful when transcribing works you know. Did she help with your nails by chance?” (Too close! Stop getting distracted. Too. Fucking. Pretty- Wait what?)

“... Rantaro did actually. I almost forgot about that with everything that happened, Tsumugi had pulled me aside to try some nail art with me in the game room and after she used a pink “gradient” on mine he happened to pass by and thought this two-toned “French slant” might suit me better instead. It helps make them look longer he said, since I keep them short to make playing piano easier.” (And Tsumugi got super jealous that a “normie” like him upstaged her like that too, but I’ll keep that to myself for now.)

“Huh?! But they’re so cute, how did he know how to do this sort of stuff?” Tenko asked, and seemed to be having troubles actually processing this information.

“From helping his little sisters I presume? Sister needed some help with her own from time to time too.” (That explains his own nails, which are so much nicer than mine. He even managed to keep them longer than I do, those don’t look plastic! Doesn’t explain the scars poking out from his sleeves though. Gah, bad territory! Whether I’m feeling jealous or attracted to him is a much safer rabbit hole to go down than that is right now.)

“Sisters? I didn’t know he had more than one. Thought he had learned it from a girlfriend at first, to be honest, but yeah.” Kaede said with a somber smile which Kiyo seemed to have understood with the sympathetic look in his eyes as he gave a nod.

“He had a number as I understood it, but he lost contact with them and kept things rather vague. It came up when we talked about traveling, he was surprisingly experienced in that way. We even had some overlap in previous destinations. I wonder if it could have been related to his forgotten talent.” (Was Rantaro really offended when I thought he was some sort of playboy if his father was one? How else would you just lose contact with family but divorce issues?)

“I... never really talked to him at all come to think of it.” Tenko softly admitted, regret clear in her voice.

“Given your stance on men in general, this is far from surprising." Kiyo replied in a snide tone, before switching to one much more melancholy, "It is a shame how life works out, isn't it?”

“Kiyo! I leave you alone for 5 minutes and you manage to bring the mood down again. This isn’t exactly good for a “Lovely Assistant” you know, we’re supposed to be bringing smiles to people tonight!” Himiko’s apparently broken away from talking to Angie and pointed at him with a cross looking pout. (Hey, Kiyo’s not a “warlock” anymore! And at least the "lovely" thing isn't just me and Tenko. I hope this is a good sign, since she didn’t make him a "mage" too.)

“Ah, quite right. Now’s not the best time for bittersweet reminiscing, my apologies.” He said with a bow, as Tenko went off with Himiko and Angie. Which was all for the better considering how loud the person who was sashaying over to them was. In more ways than one.

“Hey dumpy tits what’s that face for- … OH COME ON!”

Nope, not even Miu’s sexy getup is enough to be better looking than Kiyo. Not sure if I’m hoping Kirumi can be the one to try and answer my dilemma. But I'm pretty sure if he didn’t start laughing again that would have been enough to set Himiko on her curse thing though. It’s sorta sweet how protective she’s being over this, given how they weren’t close before. And almost adorable given their huge height difference too, like a really weird set of siblings.

“Kukuku~ Not to worry, that’s a reaction I’m used to by now. So tell me your thoughts: Am I pretty?” (Of course, you fucking are you smugass sonuva- Oh wait I get it, this is from that one Yokai thing isn’t it?)

“Should you really be asking anyone that now when you’re not wearing the face mask?”

There’s that gleam in his eye he gets when someone finds the answer he’s looking for! It’s weird being able to see him smile along with it now, probably weirder than seeing him in lipstick and makeup like this honestly. Have his lashes always been this long?  Something about his eyes looks different tonight-  STOP CHECKING HIM OUT AND FOCUS DAMNIT, IT DOESN'T MATTER HOW NICE HE LOOKS RIGHT NOW!

“Issat one of your culture nerd things? Is that’s what’s happening here right now? Because if saying “yes” is a bad thing I ain’t touching it.” Miu huffed. (She’s pretty obviously jealous though. She keeps looking at his chest and then back at her own as if confused why her “girls” didn’t give her a bigger advantage here.)

“That’s fair, as there is often no “right” answer to the Kuchisake-onna’s query anyway.”

“The what now- ya’know what nevermind, maybe later. HEY KIBO YOU FORGOT SOMETHING!”

Miu quickly wandered off to the ‘bot, who… Didn’t look all that different aside from his hair being a little less poofy. Until his face changed colors after realizing how much leg her pink dress was exposing at any rate. Or because he noticed her plunging neckline instead, given how his height made him basically eye-level with the bottom of it. It was hard to tell as either would work in this situation, which suited Miu pretty well.

Her hair was much tamer than it usually is, though it was still a rather messy bun all things considered, but her “antenna” were quickly starting to come loose from how she’s almost dancing around him while randomly poking at certain areas. (Pressing buttons perhaps?)

Any questions about what she was trying to do were quickly cleared up as the areas that were normally glowing cyan on the robot started to cycle through colors. It was rather unsettling to see how his eyes could change to match, which is likely why she made them go back to his “natural” blue setting instead.

“Kiyo did realize I was kidding before right? About the hooke- OW, HEY!” (YOU. I BLAME YOU FOR THIS. And maybe thank you for it? I feel so conflicted right now. At least you still aren’t attractive to me.)

Sounds like Kokichi was cut off by a rough slap on his back by Ryoma who was sitting on the nearby railing, which would have easily looked like a friendly gesture between them to people just giving the two a glance and weren’t able to hear the context for it.

“Shut up man, just let him have his fun and don’t be a dick about it. Whatever makes him happy, who cares?... I’ve never even met anyone who actually knew how to put on that sorta thing before come to think of it. It’s interesting to see that bit of culture in person for a change. Makes a guy feel a bit underdressed though, even looking like this. It’s weird comparing traditional wear to western stuff.”

“You didn’t need to hit me though! Meanie. Betcha you wouldn’t have been able to reach me there if you weren’t cheating either, shorty. And why didn’t anyone tell me Kee-boy could double as a disco ball?!”

“You still have a ways to go before you can really call me that short stuff. But I don’t think he knew until just now, so not sure anyone else could’ve.”

Both Kokichi and Ryoma were in more conventional suits, almost surprising given their heights. Kokichi’s being almost all white, with a purple shirt and his checkered neckerchief sticking out of a pocket, while Ryoma’s was a traditional black with a loosely done blue tie, ginger hair out for all to see. (Is it mean to wonder if Tsumugi had to get these from the kid’s section or large toys or something? Mostly for Ryoma.)

“Yeah, his panels just couldn’t keep from tearing through anything I have on hand that I thought would work for him. If my lab was here then I’m sure I could have made him something nice, but at least Miu found an easy alternative. Not sure it’s as “useful” as she claimed it could be when she tried to explain it to me earlier, but maybe it could be related to a flashlight feature or something?”

Tsumugi’s dress was rather simple, a sexy medium length light blue qípáo with gold trim. Behind her was Kirumi, with a red rose in her lacy headband and a long black and white Victorian dress with a matching rose pattern on it. As she offered before she’s left any and all aprons she has behind for the evening.

Welp. Good news: Someone is finally prettier than Kiyo and I can safely say now I’ve definitely learned something new about my tastes tonight. Bad news: Having “really tall, dark, kinda eerie femme fatale” as my type of feminine person I’m attracted to does not bode well for me. Particularly not in this setting.

“At least everything else has worked out nicely. When exactly will Himiko’s show begin?”

“Well, I guess the first thing to make sure is that everyone’s here right? Then we’ll just need to ask her and Kiyo.”

“I think we all are, if you’re talkin’ like Kiyo’s here already. I hadn’t seen him yet.” (Of course, you haven’t Kaito. I don't think this will end well.)

Kaito’s hair is remarkably untouched all things considered, just wearing an indigo men’s yukata with a subtle star pattern to it and a white robe over it like his coat. Maki’s hair was in a ponytail, and was in a red dress that looks like it has one of those cowl necks that can be used to make a hood, and given how much she was playing with her long locks she appeared rather uncomfortable with her new setting.

Past her Kaede could see Angie skipping about in a long white sundress around Gonta who didn’t look all that different than usual. Looks like not even Tsumugi could convince him to tame his hair or wear shoes for the night. Still, her work on everyone else was amazing, especially if she didn’t base them on characters or anything. If she did it’s not like Kaede would be able to tell, but they felt original tonight.

It looked like everything was just about ready to begin, but Kiyo looked rather concerned. He hid his mouth behind his hand by force of habit or to avoid lip reading as he spoke to Kaede in hushed tones.

“Himiko might need a bit of time to settle her nerves again, would you mind playing something first?”

Kaito’s definitely seen Kiyo now, after he came over to whisper in Kaede’s ear like that, and looked even less comfortable than Maki does. Too bad seeing Kaito’s reaction was enough to set Himiko off, but she was shaking less now, as the blissfully unaware Tenko still tried to act as her one person cheer squad.

He also noticed how she was muttering under her breath and giving him her best glare, since he looked mildly terrified and moved to place the now definitely blushing Maki between him and the young witch’s wrath. Kiyo was clearly amused by all of this, given he was clearly barely able to keep himself from laughing behind his hand as he approached Kaito assumedly to try and ease Himiko’s concerns.

… Or just to make things worse on purpose because he can, that works too. Kaede could hear he had switched to using a falsetto now just to aggravate any issues Kaito was having with him as he spoke with an unkind smile on his face. But seeing them “talk” did make Himiko’s muttering stop for the time being.

Good grief. This was more the creepy semi-sadistic sort of thing I was expecting of him in general. It’s probably for the better I take up his suggestion for now until people settle down some more. Now’s as good a time as any to play that song, isn’t it? I'm sorry it’s so late Shuichi. Then I'll do a song for Rantaro too.

It was easy to let any awkwardness or tenseness from the group fall away as Kaede played Clair de Lune. It was always easy to lose herself and her troubles in her focus on the music, on the keys and pedals before her. The songs never lasted long enough, it was always as if they ended too soon for her regardless of what it was, but she appreciated the polite applause and praise she received when it did. And pointedly ignored the few wolf whistles from Miu and Kokichi.

Himiko was as ready as she’d ever be at this point, so she and Kiyo took to her stage. She had Kiyo introduce her and provide almost fairytale-like explanations for everything she’d be doing for the night.

Thank goodness he stopped doing the falsetto, that’s too random for this since we know how he talks normally. Unless he wanted to do some Rakugo thing for his talent, it might work for something like that.

She went through an interesting variety, starting with “Incorporeal Vorpal Blades”, an unusual combination of her “saw in half” trick with a “disappearing box” act that made it very hard to tell where exactly Kiyo actually was during the performance until it finished.

After a few rounds of that she went to “Wyrd Maiden” magic, which given the subject did result in some laughs as Kiyo pulled out his falsetto again to play up the title despite Himiko’s attempt at giving him a firm pout, starting with the box-of-swords trick that somehow resulted in Kiyo coming out of Himiko’s “witch’s brew” that was sitting far off to the side.

They finished up with her take on “Wingardium Leviosa”, where upon the release of her various doves Himiko moved so quickly it was like she disappeared, leaving only her hat in her place. After a few moments when Kiyo hammed it up again while showing everyone that there were no doors in that area the banners above the stage began to move, showing Himiko proudly standing between the columns up above them to everyone’s applause.

Too bad they hadn’t actually sorted out for her to get back down though as she began looking around, rubbing the back of her neck like she forgot what she was supposed to be doing, which got some laughs from those who thought it was part of the show as Kiyo and Tenko mimed to her where to go.

When she was back safely on the ground, she asked if it would be okay to run off to the restroom for a bit now that her show was done. Kaede went back to playing for the night as Gonta released the various breeds of fireflies and beetles he collected that would each release their own pleasant glow as they took off to the night sky. (Given the glowing shapes moving along the ground there were probably glowworms or nightcrawlers or whatever too. Ick.)

No one suspected anything was wrong until Tenko went to see what was taking Himiko so long to get back, given how smoothly everything had went. Even then that was easy to forget about, Kaede couldn’t even be sure how long Tenko was gone looking. It wasn’t until she came running back, scared and asking for help that a problem was clear so those closest to the door ran to where Himiko had been going last.

When she, Kaede, Kiyo, and Angie made it to the bathroom door the dreaded announcement’s chime began to sound. Himiko was dead on the floor, blood seeping from her neck with a lifeless stare.

With that, the killing game began again. Despite their best efforts, it was time to begin a new investigation. ( And now this time we don’t even have a true detective to help us figure out why. )

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