#is he actually gonna vote to ruin my life or not can i trust that our convos arent just recon does he use me as a weapon against other women

[andthemoonsingswisely]

ok I never thought it would get to this, but I’m gonna say it: I’m not old enough to vote yet, but if I was, I’d vote blue. I’m a centrist at best and some would even consider me to be conservative economically speaking, I think, even though both of them suck, that Harris is a much better candidate. I know some of y’all are skeptical, but let me break it down for you.

The economy: the main reason why so many people think Trump will be better is that the economy was good under Trump and bad under Biden, but studies show that Trump didn’t “make America great again”; rather, he inherited an America that was already great. this study shows that during the last 33 months of the Obama administration, non-farm job growth averaged 224000 per month. During the first 33 months of the Trump administration, it was 34,000 jobs per month less. Moreover, it also shows that during the last two years of the Obama Administration, annual median household income increased by $4800, more than three times the amount under the first two years of Trump. I’m too tired to quote the entire statistic, but if you read the study, you can see that the stock market increased at a greater pace under Obama as well.

Patriotism: Trump has repeatedly made anti-American statements, from his mocking of veterans to his “joke” on 9/11 that now his building was the biggest (a time when the entire country was grieving and shocked). Moreover, Trump has made racist statements against Mexican, Chinese, and Black people; with his father, he has historically discriminated against Black people when renting out buildings. Moreover, I see the claim that he increased funding for historically black colleges get thrown around a lot, but the truth is that the funding actually stayed the same as what Obama gave . The same source also confirms that the record low unemployment for black people under the Trump administration didn’t come because of trump’s policies, and instead only decreased at the same rate at which it had been decreasing before. Lastly, I’d like to talk about Springfield, a town in Ohio which’s economy was weakened due to the decline in manufacturing jobs, but was revived thanks to the Haitian immigrants. With his running mate, JD Vance, Trump spread baseless rumors of Haitian immigrants eating locals’ pets. Trump disrespects all of America, whether it be veterans, minorities, or immigrants, which is why I argue that he’s not the patriot that he claims he is.

Lastly, I’d like to say that I understand why people turned to Trump in 2016 (not talking about the people who voted for him out of bigotry here, I’m talking about people who genuinely thought he was the best for America). Manufacturing and industrial jobs had been lost to other countries, and Trump, with his MAGA campaign, promised to bring back those jobs. I know that Biden, with his incompetency, has made life harder for a lot of you. But you need to ask yourself: does Trump genuinely care about the American people? Because based on the evidence I listed above, I can very confidently assert that no, in fact, he does not. Trump cares about himself, and he’s obsessed with the attention he gets. It’s why Harris was so easily able to goad him during the debate by insulting his rallies: that man is obsessed with gaining an audience, and needs to believe that he is admired and liked. He feeds off of being worshipped. Personally, I say that this is not the type of person I want to represent me or my country. This is not a man I ever would trust to make decisions to benefit everyone.

this was longer than I expected. I’m not claiming I know everything, I’m not even claiming that Harris will be a good president. I could write an entire essay dissecting the flaws in her policy ideas and her candidacy. However, I’d still choose her over the man who ruined America’s history of peaceful transfers of power. I’d still trust her over the man who posts “I HATE TAYLOR SWIFT” in all caps like a middle schooler. Then again, maybe that’s just me.

[biblicallyaccuratepigeons]

so

i deliberately looked for and screenshot a few anti-ford comments on that poll

because i hate myself ig

anyways i'm gonna be ventin so dldr ig (i voted stan btw)

here we go

hey fuck you? fuck you personally? we don't know that. we can't know that. and hey? it also wouldn't've taken him thirty years, just for the record.

dude what. the fuck. is your problem. you fucking symptom.

rude?? he's literally not a smartass. 20 years of being intellectually ahead of stan; ten years after that of being around college students and professors in his multiple advanced-as-fuck fucking phd programs; thirty years of a personally driven revenge quest to destroy his ex-boyfriend who would otherwise destroy everything he cared about and laugh about it; coming home to find that his life had been taken over so thoroughly that he thought it was another parallel universe; seeing his greatest fear realized; trying to stop it anyway; failing horrendously because he got startled; being tortured with enough electricity to kill a person and that's just what was PG enough to show - and all he did that could otherwise be interpreted as smartassy was to calmly correct his brother-who-had-ruined-his-chances-to-go-to-a-good-university-then-denied-his-one-imperative-request-and-pushed-him-into-the-portal-just-to-open-it-back-up-despite-the-danger's grammar. For fuck's sake, let him be a fucking human you bitch

it's not a complex dude. he is literally both more intelligent and more educated in more fields than about 99% of people, especially of his generation. sorry

As if Stan didn't do the exact same thing on the roadtrip? He would've ended up food if the kids weren't there - hell, he even went back to Darlene after she had already attempted to eat him using the exact same flattery. Did Ford ever go back to Bill? No.

ford... was also doing the most for his family? like it was pretty clear that he was trying to save the world from bill; even before that, he was doing everything so he wouldn't let his dad down and also be disowned

hey can someone tell me what "everything" is because what the actual fuck

i feel like. those two things are incompatible? but either way, in the wake of my bruised ego, this genuinely confounds me bc. like the only thing i can think of that would make someone say that is his pre-portal relationship with bill, as portrayed by bill. and. idk. that story was more sad to me than anything because i've been there. the only thing he did wrong was trust too much.

ok the funnier bit i totally agree with but WHAT THE FUCK WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK FORD'S MORE SELFISH AND HATES THE KIDS LIKE ACTUALLY LIKE THE FIRST THING HE EVER SAID ABOUT MABEL WAS THAT HE LIKED HOW WEIRD SHE WAS AND HE SPENT 30 YEARS TRYING TO KILL THE UNKILLABLE THING THAT HAD DESTROYED AND WOULD DESTROY MULTIPLE DIMENSIONS GET THE FUCK OVER YOURSELVES

wh-what the fuck did he do. what the fuck did he do.

ok now this is just a case of envy. you gonna go home to your negative gpa? gonna cry because you can't find anything special about yourself? we have no idea what ford went through while he was on the other side of that damn portal, but we do know that stan never had to be afraid of sleeping because of what he, himself, would do while he wasn't looking. he never had to worry about who was in charge of his own mind. he never had to be afraid of children on the street, or his own brother. fuck you personally and get a fucking hobby.

he was 17/18 with an abusive father and scared?? also. ford was also going through it in the events leading up to the portal. like i know he was financially comfortable and shit but he was very much not okay

i'm not gonna say he was right not to forgive nor thank stan because he absolutely wasn't, but for the record: ford did also go insane. like that was a very significant thing that happened. also: see the smartass rant. and let him be human please i am begging you.

okay one fuck you because he wasn't "playing" anything. he was trying to get shit done and enjoy life at the same time and that's not a moral failing. two you're being unfair, he didn't "start punching" stan, he punched him once and then when stan tried to punch back he stopped him. he also had thirty years of nonstop action and fear and revenge quest on his mind, with literally no time to work through his hurt because he was too busy surviving, and then stan started the portal right as he'd almost succeeded in his thirty-year revenge quest. he should've forgiven him sooner, but it's not like it doesn't make sense, even from a moral standpoint.

i'm sensing envy and ableism here. sorry you have different strengths than ford; hope you recover soon.

he's like not though? at all?

and this last one made me smile so i wanted to put it at the end for a light ending

And we were all like, "We know, but heyy!"

[skin-slave]

In my experience, that breed of nut will "be your friend" for the express purpose of converting you. They will take every opportunity to "remind" you that you're doing it wrong. Best case scenario, they're the type to respond to everything with "it is/is not god's fault, so let's pray." Worst case scenario, they inundate you with religious trinkets so they can pressure you into wearing/displaying them, trick you into going to their church, etc. (My favorite was, "let's go to my niece's santa play, it's kind of a party, there's free cookies after," and it ends up being the worst militant anti-everything-but-baby-Jesus bs with literal kids singing about Santa being Satan in disguise, and the cookies were shit and to even get one, I had to pretend to pray.)

They do not care about ppl of another/no faith beyond seeing them as potential points to add to their afterlife competition. Christians are literally the most solid argument against Christianity.

one of my father’s hindu colleagues was surprised that my family didn’t make everyone say a christian prayer before we sat down to eat dinner. we were like “….this is your house.” and she laughed and said that her christian friends “make” her pray all the time. like what the fuck. how fucking rude can you be to make the host pray to your god. you are in their fucking house.

[spideyhexx]

brat; L. L.

pairing; president!loki x female reader

a/n: self indulgent fic :) cause we deserve more of this loki

masterlist part two!!! part three!!!

reblogs/comments/feedback is appreciated!

summary; you attempt to trust loki but that never works out and he has an idea for a going away present.

NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI PLEASE!!!

WARNINGS; mean!loki. name calling (slut...little one...whore...bitch). oral (male receiving). thigh riding. dirty talk. sort of loki episode five spoilers.

word count: 1.4k

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

You should’ve known. Loki is never true to his word, but you hoped just maybe he would be different this time.

The Void put you in a constant state of trying to survive and although you were doing just fine on your own, but Loki, with his fitted suit and “vote loki” pin refusing to leave his suit jacket pushed his way into your life.

He’s tricked you countless times already and for some reason you keep trusting him.

Maybe it’s his smooth voice or his enchanting eyes. Or maybe you were just desperate to have more supplies.

This time he promised he would provide you with supplies on your trek to find a new place to take shelter. His sweet ‘of course I’ll help you little one’ led you to believe he’d follow through.

Now, you stand in his “lair” that he took from Kid Loki and he is nowhere to be seen.

A desolate quietness surrounds the room. You stay there, getting more impatient by the minute.

Just as you decide to leave, you hear the hatch opening and Loki climbs down the ladder. He spots you and his smirk deepens.

“Oh, love! You actually came,” he sneers and walks right past you. Loki settles into the throne in the center of the room and spreads his legs leisurely.

You try not to look at how good his thighs look in his pants, but you can’t help it and your eyes quickly look at them, then away. He chuckles, clearly noticing and rests his hand on his thigh.

“Of course I came, you promised me supplies? I was waiting here forever,” you exaggerate and he scoffs.

“Come on, you truly think I care about your little adventure? Enough to give you stuff I earned?”

You’re at a loss for words. You try to say something but he waves you off. The anger he’s igniting in you is only increasing as he keeps that stupid, sexy smirk on his face.

“I will miss you though, little one. Never get tired of messing with you,” he says, winking at you.

“Won’t miss you at all. You’re an asshole, Loki.” He raises an eyebrow at your words.

“I may be a jerk, sweetheart but you love it.”

His voice drops in a growl as he says it. You shift on your feet.

“Fuck you,” you snapped, trying to stand your own ground against him. You wanted to see his face drop and it does, then he smiles.

“That’s not a no.” You huff and he dramatically pouts.

“You’re so annoyed aren’t you? Asshole Loki makes you heated. So much in fact, you could’ve left by now...yet you’re still here. Pathetic...isn’t it?”

He doesn’t hide it when he looks you up and down. He leans further back into the throne and spreads his legs wider, which only adds more sparks to the ever growing fire instead of you.

“How about we have some goodbye fun, love? Your only chance.”

Loki moves his hand to the bulge in his pants, lightly pressing against it. He sighs, then while keeping his eyes on yours, slowly unzips his pants.

Your body moves without another question. You stride over to him and he reaches up to push you down to your knees.

“Take care of it,” he says and points to his crotch, widening his legs for you to settle between them.

You attempt to pull his pants down but Loki grabs your wrist. He holds it tightly as he takes his cock out, leaving the pants still on. He lets go of your wrist and looks at you expectantly.

“Well? Are you going to suck on it?”

You are, but you’re taken aback, both by his size and how good he looks staring down at you.

Loki scoffs and grabs your jaw, sticking his thumb into your mouth.

You suck on it and he groans.

“See? You can suck on my thumb, so I think you can suck on my cock. Or is that too hard for you?”

He taunts and removes his thumb from your mouth, smearing your saliva against his cock. You lean forward and wrap your lips around the tip. He grunts and you smile.

“Don’t get cocky, little one. I can ruin that smile in two seconds,” he growls, watching as you take more of him in your mouth. You can’t help but moan around him as you bob your head up and down, your underwear already soaked from sucking him off.

“This is turning you on a lot, isn’t it? Fucking whore, aren’t you? Getting horny over my cock in your mouth?”

His voice is gravelly and spurs on your moaning. He bucks his hips up, practically fucking into your mouth.

“Take all of it bitch.” You moan at his harsh words and he laughs breathily.

“You like being called a bitch too? Hell, I should’ve fucked your face sooner.”

His movements quicken, tears threatening to spill from your eyes until you need to pull away for a breath and he surprisingly lets you. Loki waits only a few moments before pulling your head back to his cock.

You choose to instead kiss down the length of him and then attach your lips to his balls, sucking, kissing, licking whatever you could do to hear him spew filth at you.

“I’m gonna cum, put me back in your mouth little one.”

You don’t listen, but suck harder at the base of his cock, using your hand to jerk off the rest.

“Did you hear me, little one?”

Loki is about to say something else but he groans instead, not being able to stop himself from cumming. It lands on his shirt and a bit on his pants. He growls and pulls your head back from his cock.

“Fucking whore you are. Look at this mess?”

You feel a little proud, making him more pissed off as a last hoorah. You stand, shrugging his hand away and wiping your lips.

“You deserve it,” you quip. Loki reaches out, grabbing your waist and pulling you back to him.

“Do I? If I deserve a mess then maybe you should contribute to it.”

He yanks your pants down along with your underwear, then pulls you into his lap.

Loki sits you directly on one of his thighs and you can feel some of his cum on your own thigh.

“Rub against me, little one. Make a fucking mess,” he orders.

You hold onto his shoulders, so broad, so strong against the fabric of his jacket as you slowly start to grind on him. He smirks and looks down, watching as your cunt rubs his thigh.

“My leg’s already wet from you. Desperate...horny...soaked...little whore.”

You moan his name and he laughs.

“Please,” you mumble, moving faster, tilting your head back to focus more on the pleasure.

“Please what? Oh dear, do you want to cum?” His voice is teasing and you look back at him just as he dips his fingers down to rub at your clit.

“Holy….fuck yes. Want your cock too,” you stammer out, trying to press yourself against his fingers.

He takes them away and you whine. Loki sucks his fingers into his mouth and hums.

“Too bad, little one. You’re not cumming yet. I don’t think you really deserve it after being a pathetic brat. Just keep humping me like a cock hungry whore. Not allowed to stop.”

You whine at him again and he leans back, keeping his hands off of you.

The urge to finish was lurking and threatening to occur and you try to hold it back but it seems useless.

“Please, Loki. I need it, please I need it.” He sighs and moves closer to his, his lips lingering on yours.

He smirks, “I don’t fucking care.”

Those words should not do something to you, but they do and you can’t stop your release from exploding through you.

It’s stronger than anything you’ve ever felt, your mind numbing as you ride out your high.

You can’t enjoy it for too long though because Loki pushes you off of him and you fall onto the floor. He looks down at your release soaking his thigh.

“You didn’t listen, again. What was I saying before? Oh! Pitiful little brat, you are. So much of a slut that you can’t hold yourself back, hm? Can’t listen?”

He stands up and begins to walk to the ladder.

“W-Where are you going?” You ask him and he reluctantly turns back.

“Sweetheart, you don’t deserve more of my cock. Go fuck off on your adventure. Learn to behave like a good whore. Maybe if we cross paths again, I’ll be able to fuck deep into that cunt while you listen to me,” he sneers before climbing up the ladder and out of the hatch.

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 15: Paper Castle

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

VOTING IS CLOSED!!

Happy Saturday, everyone! I hope you enjoy! There's a choice at the end of this (not the big choice) so vote if you want! If you don't, I'll just choose. No big deal. Thought it could be fun lol! SO, no extra update tomorrow since I will have to likely be writing. I'll try to have a double update soon! Much love. <3 I will try to update Mon/Wedn/Fri this week unless otherwise stated! New fic coming soon too.

Part 14 Part 16 Chapter Index

“Y/N?” Liu’s voice woke you and you shifted and whined. You didn’t want to get up. You were tired and comfortable for what felt like the first time in forever. “Y/N, you’re lying on my arm.” You opened one eye and found Liu laying on his side next to you. You rolled your head the opposite way and caught sight of his hand on the other side of you. “It’s dead.” He laughed in a sleepy, husky voice. Carefully, you shifted just enough to allow him to pull his arm free from beneath you. Then he rolled onto his stomach, staying close. He shook out his hand to try and regain feeling.

“Sorry about that.” You cleared your throat, your own voice still small and sleepy. He smiled, as if admiring that.

“No worries.” He yawned. “How did you sleep?”

“Like the dead.” You stretched your arms above your head and adjusted onto your back, folding your hands on your stomach. Liu’s shoulder was now bruised, as predicted, and looked sore. The scrape at the center of the bruise was now scabbed over. That was right. For a blissful moment you’d forgotten what had happened. You touched around the bruise, careful of how much pressure you put on him. Furrowing your brow, you allowed your hand to touch close to the scab and then further down his arm, tracing the lines where the bruise continued. You knew he didn’t want you to apologize, but you felt guilty so there was nothing for it. “Liu, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, Y/N. It doesn’t hurt. Just a bit stiff.” He watched your hand regardless. “Are you okay? You’re still pale.”

“I’m okay. The normal amount of sore that I’m pretty used to.” You yawned, covering your mouth as you did. Liu urged his hand to your cheek, a now familiar and comforting thing but he urged you to look toward him. Then he brushed his fingers up to your forehead and gave you a disapproving look. “Put that accusatory look away. I probably have a fever. It was way worse when I was a kid. This is manageable in comparison. I didn’t notice. I can deal with it, Liu.”

“That doesn’t make me feel much better, but I trust you.” He pulled his hand back. You smiled, proud. “We should get up. Eat. Then speak with Raiden.”

“…or, hear me out, we could just sleep more instead.”

He laughed and then stopped when he realized you were serious. “We’ve slept long enough. The sooner that we talk to Raiden, the sooner you can properly rest without worry.”

You lifted your head and peeked around him. The sky was still dark! There was the tiniest hint of color beyond the tops of the cliffs, just barely kissing the mountainside. “The sun isn’t up yet.”

“It will be at any minute. If we get up now, then we can watch the sunrise together before we grab some food.” He tempted and you considered his offer. It did sound nice to watch the sunrise together, if not a little romantic. “Come on, Y/N. I’m worried about you. The sooner we get you to Raiden, the better.” That was less romantic. You were tired of worrying him.

“I know, I know.” You sighed but relented. “I’m exhausted, is all.”

“That’s exactly what’s worrying me,” he whispered, leaning closer to you. He let his index and middle fingers brush carefully over your cheek. “I know that you don’t want me to worry about you but let me assure you, that you are worth worrying over.” You had to have been pale for him to worry so much. You took his hand and offered it a reassuring squeeze then let it go. He pushed your hair back from your face, taming a few renegade strands before resting his hand on the side of your neck, his arm draping over your shoulder to do so. Fingers gently traced beneath your ear, down your neck, across your shoulder before he grasped it and urged you to turn just toward him. The sheets shifted beneath you as he scooted closer. Your eyes followed his strong arm up to find that he was close enough to you now that if you spoke even a single word, your lips would brush just against his.

His eyes were half-lidded, and his lips were parted just slightly. Your face was red and hot, and you dared not breathe for fear that something would come along and ruin this tender moment. His grip on your shoulder tightened and his lips brushed slowly against yours; a ghost of something that you had longed for and had felt somehow forbidden. You closed your eyes and his lips pressed against yours, igniting sparks in your chest. You lifted your head just enough to meet him into that deeper kiss but as you parted your lips, there was a knock on the door.

Liu pulled back just enough at the sound, but his lips were still close to yours, close enough for you to ignore the sunrise in favor of kisses. Your hand had tangled into his hair without you realizing and there you sat, frozen and listening.

“Don’t answer it,” Liu whispered and the brush of his lips with each word practically drove you mad. You swallowed the lump in your throat but finally managed to breathe. If they went away, you would ignore it. If they knocked again, you would get up. It wasn’t like there was a lock on your door or anything.

There was another knock on the door and you sighed, leaning your head back against the pillow. Liu pulled back and rested his head on the pillow next to yours, pushing his hair back in clear frustration. It was nice to see that you weren’t the only one suffering.

Face still hot, practically burning, you fanned it before sitting up and draping your legs off the bed. You’d had to pull a good bit of yourself out from partially beneath Liu Kang. The cold floor felt good against your bare feet and you hung your head. It was pounding now that you weren’t resting it against something.

“If you don’t answer the door in thirty seconds then I’m coming in!” Chen’s voice yelled from the other side.

“Son of a…” You cursed beneath your breath and you could feel Liu’s eyes watching you as you hurried to the door. Without another word, you opened it and stepped into the hall before closing it very quickly behind you to keep Chen from looking inside.

Chen had her hands on her hips, her messy hair pulled back into a bun with a look of concern plastered on her round face. “Finally! You had me all worried.”

“I was sleeping, Chen.”

“I had the worst feeling last night that I couldn’t shake. I figured I’d check in on you before I headed downstairs. When you didn’t answer… I’ll admit I freaked myself out a little bit. Kung Lao is so reckless sometimes, who knew what trouble he would get you into!”

“I was just sleeping. It’s so early, Chen.” You protected the door behind you as though your life depended on it. Chen was not going to see inside your room, not if you could help it. “I didn’t hear you knock at first.” You lied and it sounded like a lie even. Thankfully, Chen didn’t seem to notice.

“You’re really pale today.” Chen urged you to tilt your head to the side and checked your pulse.

“I’m fine, stop it!” You swatted her hand away. “I had a vision last night but I’m okay. My pulse is just fine.”

“It was actually racing.”

“Because your knock scared me away.” You were a lying liar.

“Come sit down. I’ll make sure that you’re up to snuff then we can grab a bite to eat together.”

“I need a few minutes to get cleaned up. Not dressed for other humans right now.” You pointed to the door behind you as Chen tried to lead you across the hall to the bench against the wall. Then the door opened behind you and you yelped and nearly lost your balance. Liu Kang helped keep you from falling.

“Is everything okay?” He asked and then looked to Chen. Chen’s eyes were wide, and she looked as if she were about to burst at the seams with confetti. You tightened your lips, pretty sure that anything you said would not help you.

“Oh, yes, Liu Kang. I was just checking in on Y/N. Had a bad feeling and wanted to make sure it was just that.” Chen smiled brightly, but you could feel how delighted she was.

“That’s kind of you. While you do that, I’m going to grab a few things.” Liu spoke the last part quietly and just for you. “I’ll meet you back here when I’m ready.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” It took all of your energy to find a response though you thought it sounded quite strangled.

Liu Kang left you, and you watched him walk away, waiting for the inevitable that would come when he was out of sight. This was killing you. Sensory overload again. Liu Kang and then immediately Chen and you just wanted to flop on the floor and ask the universe why things happened with the timing in which they happened. When you finally turned back to Chen, Chen was staring at you expectantly, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“So, what the hell was that, Y/N?”

“I have to get changed.” You opened the door and tried to escape.

“No, no. You’re not getting out of this that easily. You can’t just avoid me. I’ll start yelling about stuff. Embarrassing stuff- you have no idea.”

“I’m not avoiding you and there’s nothing for me to get out of, Chen. I just need to get changed so I can be ready when he comes back.”

Chen followed you into the room and you sighed. “Like hell! Liu Kang just marched out of your room. Shirtless- I might add. And you are clearly still half asleep which can only mean one thing.”

“You continue to be the worst monk. Also, it can mean many things and it’s not the thing you’re thinking.”

“You’d be way less tense if it was the thing I’m thinking.” Chen sounded disappointed.

“He fell asleep here while we were studying last night.” You searched through the trunk at the foot of your bed for something to wear since you had sufficiently destroyed the tank top that you had so admired. Liu’s shirt and sash were still draped over the back of your desk chair, completely drenched in ink. The blood on the tear in the shirt made your stomach sink.

“I’m gathering evidence so I’m going to need you to be quiet, you liar.” Chen walked past you and gestured toward the bed that was a mess of tangled sheets. Her smile quickly faded when she spotted the ink staining the floor. Her joy was replaced by sadness. “Oh. You really did have a vision last night.”

You nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. You were exhausted and your head was still pounding. Chen sat next to you and offered you a gentle hug.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. He stayed to comfort me even though I hurt him. I scared him, I think. I’m tired today but I’m okay. I’m strong enough to shoulder whatever this is.”

“It’s okay for you to be upset too, Y/N.”

“I know that. I’m mostly just exhausted.” You dug again in the chest, pulling out one of the hanfu that you hadn’t worn yet. “And tired of traditional Chinese clothing. How do you survive without jeans?” You joked nervously. Even so, you would wear the hanfu. It was light and fluttery, so much more delicate a thing than you were.

“It’s also okay to stop joking for a second when you’re uncomfortable. You can seek shelter, you know…”

“Oh, no, please stop.” You furrowed your brow, knowing what was coming next since the smile had returned to Chen’s face.

“To seek shelter in the arms of a big, strong man.”

“Could you not?”

“Come on. He could have kept that shirt on! It’s just stained with ink!”

“You aren’t helping.”

“He knew what he was doing, Y/N. Have a bit of fun.”

“I attacked him, Chen! Does that count as fun?”

“…depends on how he handled it and if you’re into that or not!”

You laughed, your face burning. You smacked Chen’s arm. While Chen was teasing you, her expression had changed. She’d wanted to make you laugh despite all the bad that had happened. You were grateful to have made friends in Raiden’s Temple. “He held me. That was nice. And it’s also all that you get.”

“One day I’m going to get you drunk and you’re going to give me details that you’re too embarrassed to give sober.”

“That is such a specific and weird threat.” You closed the trunk after setting the hanfu to the side.

“Come by the infirmary later and we’ll run some tests. See if maybe we can find a better way to manage the side effects of this thing.”

“I will, but I have to use this time to get changed. I really do need to be ready when Liu comes back. We’re going to see Raiden this morning. He wants to try and make sense of what I’ve seen.”

“Oh, fun.” Chen made a face as though that were exactly the opposite of fun. You understood that. Raiden was intimidating, but you’d seen him enough times to know that he was also well-meaning. “I’ll see you later then. Promise me?”

“I promise. Liu will be delighted that I’m willingly going to the infirmary.” You hugged Chen once more and watched your friend leave. You sat, hand applying pressure over your left eye to dull the pounding in your head for a time. Then you sucked it up, got up, and got changed. It felt immediately too delicate and pretty. You missed jeans. Desperately. But for now, it was better than nothing. No sooner had you finished getting cleaned up and changed when there was a knock on the door. You opened it to find Liu Kang had returned and was in his familiar white and black gi. He had cleaned up in the meantime. There was no sign of ink or the bruises.

“Ready to go?”

You nodded and then you walked together through the halls of the temple. You stopped to grab a quick bite to eat and then went back up the stairs to meet with Raiden. You felt much better now that you were up and about a bit more without being teased. The further you were from the visions the more normal you felt. At least you could count on that!

When you arrived in the familiar chamber with the not-tesla-coils, ypi found both Raiden and Kung Lao waiting for you. “Liu Kang tells me that you’ve had another vision.” Raiden approached with his hands clasped together behind his back. Kung Lao offered you a smile in greeting.

“I did. It was really jumbled up.”

“If you could tell me what you recall. It’s important to hear it in your voice before I use my magic.”

You did just that. The mountains, the clouds, the creature that had hidden something there and then the temple in Japan, how you had nearly drowned in the blood red pond. Raiden listened raptly, but you could feel the eyes of your friends on you, worried. You felt smaller and smaller by the second, much more like that little girl who had been terrified to tell anyone what you’d seen because you would be looked at like you were crazy. But none of them looked at you like you were losing your mind. They listened with interest and understanding- and worry.

After you finished, Raiden paced before them. Kung Lao stepped next to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You did good.” He whispered reassuringly. You nodded your thanks. Liu Kang stood before Raiden, prayer beads wrapped around his hand, his other hand behind his back. He was avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“Come and sit, Y/N.” Raiden sat on a bench in the center of the room just before one of those white-electrical statues you kept meaning to ask about. You stepped away from Kung Lao, past Liu Kang, and sat on the bench where Raiden joined you. “If it’s alright with you then I will use my magic to see exactly what it is that you have seen.”

“…is that safe?”

“There have been many seers in my temple throughout the ages, but I have never had more difficulty interpreting visions than I have yours. I admit that I do not know how safe this is or not.”

You frowned and felt again like you were disappointing him. “I wish that things were clearer. That I could relay them better.”

“It is of no fault of yours, Y/N, but rather the shadow that hangs over you. If we can interpret your visions, then perhaps we can get to the root of it and you can be of more use.”

You nodded. Be of more use. That was a harsh way to put it. You were sure he meant well. Being a God, you supposed tact was unnecessary. “What if I attack you?”

“That is why I have asked Kung Lao and Liu Kang to join us. If something happens beyond my control, then they will be here to aid me and protect you.”

“Okay.” You caught Liu’s eyes on you, like he wanted to comfort you but when you looked up to him, he turned away. Kung Lao, on the other hand, smiled brightly nearby.

“You’ve got this. And if you don’t… we’ve got this.”

You nodded.

Raiden held his hand out to you, and you took it nervously.

As your hand met his, you faded into darkness. It was as though a curtain of mist had been draped over you. It was calm, dark, and silent. You saw nothing. You felt almost nothing. It was just… darkness and blissful quiet. It was the most at peace that you had been in ages. Like you were floating in a sea of nothing. There was no pain, no complicated feelings, no conflict of any kind.

Just darkness.

The crackling of lightning woke you and you snapped your eyes open. Your stomach jolted with the feeling of weightlessness, pain, and confusion. You were surrounded by a swirling vortex of ink, whipping around you like a tornado. And you were near the ceiling! The ink had formed a seat beneath you, raising you uncomfortably high. On either side of you there were snapping ink creatures, dripping, and snarling. They looked like dragons! They reminded you, in fact, of the very same dragon that Liu Kang had made that first day where you’d found your arcana and had tried to mimic him. They hissed and snapped at the air beyond the inky vortex.

The cloudy vortex of ink began to wear thin as you panicked. Through it, you could see a sphere of lightning and fire surrounding you and keeping the dragons at bay. They bit at the magic and were repelled. There were sparks and embers and a roar almost like the angry sea. Panic gripped you and your arcana melted suddenly into nothingness and you fell from your high seat near the ceiling with a yelp.

Kung Lao leapt through the fire and lightning, rolled, and then caught you before you hit the ground. You had braced yourself for the fall, breath held, ready to protect your head and your limbs. Safe in Kung Lao’s arms, you leaned your head back and gasped for breath. Your hands and feet were tingling and trembling. With a snap, the fire and lightning were gone but the air was thick with electricity and heat. Kung Lao carefully set you down on the floor, kneeling at your side. He checked your eyes, which was incredibly uncomfortable. You could see his lips moving but you couldn’t make out the words. There was a painful and overwhelming ringing in your ears. To you it seemed like they were moving in slow motion.

“Are you okay?” Kung Lao waved his hand in front of your face and it was as though the world was suddenly full speed and incredibly loud. Raiden’s voice was booming and the electrical buzzing from the hall beyond was nauseating. Kung Lao grasped your hands and turned your arms over, still searching you for what you could only guess. He looked impressed. “That was wild.”

“Do you remember any of that?” Liu Kang crouched next to you, breath heavy, arms covered in soot. You shook your head, struggling with words still. What had happened? What had your arcana done while you’d been floating in the blissful nothing?

“You spoke of artifacts of great power, Y/N. They were hidden in places that you saw in your visions. The creature that you spoke of was hidden from my sight. If we can get those artifacts then there is a chance that I could see further into their purpose and his intent.”

You tried to sit up and away from Kung Lao but your body was exhausted and there was nothing for it. Your head felt too heavy to hold up on its own so Kung Lao urged you to keep resting back against him. Liu Kang was checking you pulse and making sure that you hadn’t broken anything during your ordeal. You weren’t even covered in ink. What was your arcana doing?

“Artifacts? And you know where those places were?”

“You were talking in this really spooky voice,” Kung Lao whispered. “It was weird.”

“I was able to see what you had been shown and yet you spoke of it with clarity in a voice that was not at all your own.”

“You had an accent, like a weird accent.” Kung Lao whispered again and Raiden gave him a disapproving look.

“I…” You drifted off. You didn’t know what to say. The idea of something else controlling your body when you were unaware made you grossly uncomfortable. You shrunk against Kung Lao and Liu Kang offered your hand a comforting squeeze.

“The first artifact was hidden in the Huangshan mountains here in China. The other? Mount Osore in Japan. Both are ancient holy sites filled with many legends about the old world.” Raiden bowed his head as he towered over you. “I recognized them, though it seems that when this creature hid these things, it was long ago. You must go there Y/N and uncover what was left behind. While you are gone, I will commune with the elder Gods and see what can be learned about this affliction, this shadow.”

You had a thousand question again. Elder Gods? The shadow obscured itself from Raiden? What had your ink done? What was the voice you’d spoken in? Why had you been floating? How had you summoned dragons? Your head was swimming and you leaned it back on Kung Lao’s shoulder and gasped for breath. You were exhausted, it was a wonder you didn’t just pass out.

“You must go there, Y/N. Go and uncover the truth hidden from you.”

“She can’t go alone.” Liu Kang objected.

“She’s plenty strong, Lou.” Kung Lao assured him, which surprised you considering how miserably you had failed the day before in the fight pit.

“Liu Kang is right. Not because I do not trust her strength but simply because we do not know what awaits. We do not know if this is a trap. We do not know what your arcana will do if you are left alone. You will not go alone so that others may be protected from any harm you might do.”

Oh. That was new. Raiden was worried that you were going to hurt yourself or someone else if you had a vision while you were alone. You couldn’t blame him. You were afraid of that too. You’d beaten the hell out of Liu Kang without realizing and even now, he seemed exhausted from using his arcana combined with Raiden’s godly magic just to keep you subdued without hurting you.

“You will go to Mount Osore in Japan first. I think that it is significant that you go there during the Autumn Pilgrimage which is only a few days from now.”

“This is starting to sound fun.” Kung Lao smirked.

“Kung Lao, I assure you that this is very important.”

“Yeah, very important.” He nodded and you had to resist rolling your eyes at him.

“In the meantime, one of you can go to Huangshan and gather information. When Y/N is finished in Mount Osore then she will be escorted to Huangshan while the other returns to me with the artifact.”

“What if I don’t know what to do when I get there?”

“Trust your visions, Y/N. And trust yourself. It is important that you realize that whoever has clouded your sight has done so for a great reason. What you see is important. If this creature is responsible for the clouding of your gift, then the fact that you still saw him doing something he didn’t intend for me to see, then it is a true testament to your potential strength as a seer. We must find a way to remove this shadow. I feel that doing so will lead you to do great things.” Raiden spoke with far more confidence in you than he’d had the other day. He’d basically told you before that you were incapable of being of any help.

Now he was claiming that you could lead them to victory. “But if you fail then your life will end long before the next tournament.”

Your stomach dropped and you felt Liu Kang’s grip on your hand tighten. Kung Lao was staring at a point on the floor to the left of you, eyes wide.

“One of you will accompany Y/N to Mount Osore while the other goes to Huangshan.”

“You had me at Autumn Festival,” Kung Lao regained his confidence far quicker than Liu Kang had. Liu bowed his head respectfully and let go of your hand.

“I’ve been to Huangshan before. It’s beautiful and… a lot of ground to cover. But I will leave the choice up to Y/N. This is her journey so I think that it’s only fair that the choice is hers.” Liu Kang smiled but the worry behind his eyes overpowered any excitement that he may have felt at the idea of traveling to these ancient and holy wonders.

“In that case, Y/N, the choice is yours. Who will accompany you to Japan? And who will stay here in China?”

(Author’s note! Let me know who you want to go where- I have some stuff planned out but it’s all pretty vague for this part and I’ll adapt depending on the character. IF I had to recommend, I’d say that Kung Lao is suited for Japan and Liu Kang is suited for Huangshan! But, either will do! THIS IS NOT THE BIG CHOICE. This is just a fun little thing I added in. The big choice IS coming soon tho, I assure you.)

[somerpmemes]

Infinity Train S4 Starters

Change as needed

“This is how it always begins.”

“Can we get this over with already?”

“We could just lie.”

“It’s just not a proper band name.”

“I packed you some oranges.”

“I have something for you.”

“Hey, you’re up!”

“Wow, thanks for the van.”

“Just, uhh, give me a sec.”

“I kinda thought you’d be eating, not working.”

“Are you sure it was that one?”

“I’m going tonight and I think that you should come with.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t just leave on a whim.”

“What is this? Some sort of destiny rubbish?”

“It is, like, way too early for all this yelling.”

“I thought you were, like, dead.”

“I’ve never done the whole, like, explanation thing before.”

“I dunno! What am I, a pocket scientist?”

“Oh, right. I was being chased.”

“You forgot you were being chased!?”

“We’re all in trouble!”

“Stop acting like you know more than me!”

“Stop acting like a child!”

“Good. This is good.”

“Most people are super chill.”

“Get ready to be, like, dazzled.”

“A warning would’ve been nice!”

“And what’s in it for me?”

“That’s a curiosity worth saving.”

“Yeah, so, I’m kinda done with all this.”

“Get ready for the drop.”

“I, like, gave you a heads up. You should’ve said something.”

“There is absolutely no way she’s coming back for us.”

“Hope y’all are ready to be dazzled by 2,000 volts of justice.”

“So… we almost got killed.”

“I vote we keep them on. They’re stylish, man.”

“Why do you hate fun, ___?”

“You have to think before you do things!”

“You’ve got to respect someone trying to innovate in their field.”

“Who in their right mind enjoys post-war American food?”

“It’s about the whatever.”

“This is, like, a baby puzzle. I solved this when I was baby.”

“Well, you seem aimless and hungry.”

“I don’t go to, like, nerd parties.”

“This is pretty much just getting into a club. That’s what I do every day.”

“Should I even be surprised?”

“I think maybe this isn’t the best plan.”

“Uh, it’s more locked than I thought it would be.”

“You’re stronger than I remember.”

“Does playing guitar give you muscles?”

“Can you just let me try something, ___? Without commentary?”

“How many times do you have to fail to learn the same lesson?”

“They’re all… dead?”

“You can mess up even if you stand still.”

“Do I get a turn at being smug now?”

“The wait will make it, like, better.”

“Party time, corpses.”

“Well, this is… literal.”

“Yeah, it’s just been a while.”

“Dude, relax. The pressure couldn’t be more off.”

“Oof, that is one rowdy crowdy.”

“Sorry I left you out there.”

“I wasn’t ready.”

“Why’d you choose to sit in the grossest room at the party?”

“I’d say it can’t get much worse.”

“I think we just gotta do it.”

“We can always count on you to fail.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

“No, I think that now is probably the worst time for that.”

“He’s not gonna get better.”

“He’s dead weight.”

“Why doesn’t anyone care about how I’m feeling!?”

“If you don’t even want to be in my life why do you care how I live it!?”

“I wanted to give you another chance!”

“I can’t drop everything in my life just because you want to figure out yours!”

“You left me.”

“Hey, if I wanted to leave, I could’ve!”

“This is my home, isn’t it nice?”

“Everything’s been so easy for you!”

“Nobody cares about me unless I’m doing… something.”

“Well, I don’t know why I’m doing anything.”

“And I know I should trust you, but the truth is… inside, I don’t.”

“I’m just so tired of faking it.”

“I definitely wasn’t trying to, y’know, leave you.”

“You guys are being, like, way too hard on yourself.”

“The only thing I’m obsessed with is justice!”

“When you force it, they really do grow up so fast.”

“Why are you wearing a parka still?”

“You really shouldn’t have come back here.”

“You ruined my life.”

“Everyone’s mad at me all the time but I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“You never actually apologize.”

“So, you didn’t mess up.”

“I helped?”

“I think you’re basically good, ___. You just need to, like, get better at it.”

“It’s always gotta be something, huh!?”

“I’m coming in. Don’t be naked.”

“I don’t wanna talk.”

“You had a bad thought. I have those all the time.”

“You stuck with me, so now you’re stuck with me.”

“That’s, like, pretty metal.”

“We’re not gonna run anymore.”

“I tried to ignore everything but it just keeps hurting everyone.”

“I’m sorry I tried to push you when you said you weren’t ready.”

“If you want me to say I feel better now, I don’t.”

“Maybe the experience is the point.”

“So, umm, this, like, ended kinda weird.”

[mikimagines]

Can I request angsty angst .. so Nagito finding that justice y/n killed someone because they were gonna kill nagito. If that to much ya don’t have to do it. Have a nice day.

...pain. (I need to be doing school work rn)

mod mikan

nurse notes; c/n = classmate name also this contains spoilers for danganronpa 2?

Nagito Finding out that y/n killed someone who tried to kill him.

you don’t know what you were seeing.

it all just happened at once.

you were just arguing with a classmate and now. their once alive body was in front of you.

“...”

but how did it happen through?

well, you “accidentally eavesdropped” them.

they were planning a murder on nagito, your best friend, so they could save us all, you have no idea but

... you can’t let that happen, even if it means sacrificing your own life.

at the end you killed them instead, with no regret what’s so ever.

when the others found the body then investigation you made sure to point the evidence on you.

sadly things didn’t go as planned much.

All it that case the evidence was actually put out to hiyoko.

You didn’t say to much but all the evidence provided to her can cause something.

“oh seems like it’s voting tim- “

“WAIT!” You yelled out.

great now everyone is staring at you..dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“...i-it was me, I killed them.”

then you show out evidence how you stabbed them, basically your entire plan.

and luckily, they all voted for you.

...

and now before you almost get punched by Hiyoko you explained why you did it.

only because the forced you too.

although nagito was silent through the entire trial, kinda. only when he figured out that you killed c/n.

he is the ultimate lucky student after all.

...

“The reason I killed them was because they were trying to murder nagito”

ah there it is shock.

“but why would you even do that-“

“he is my only friend I ever had, y’know, you guys never trusted me ever since my justice outbreak and whatever.”

“but for the truth I did it for justice, it’s always on what I stand for ofcourse, but justice has to wait, I guess having a friend for once changed me.”

“so at the end it was all for a stepping stone of justic-“

“nagito you are such a idiot... no wonder we were friends, haha.”

“....”

“moving on, monokuma, I’m ready for my execution.”

“Gosh finally! That love birds crap aaa getting on my last’s nerves!”

“...”

“before i go nagito! make sure to ruin these trials without me alright? may justice take of with me and you!”

“It’s punishment time!”

“Ok? I believe your hope will shine through with our me, thank you.”

then you walked to your doom as the other watched in horror to your execution.

while you died actually smiling, and the thoughts of justice.

....

“ah, what a shame indeed, those inspiring words can put the shinning justice y/n incomplete!”

“hah..hahahahahhahahahahhah”

while nagito laughed, the others went away only leaving him, actually feeling bad for him?

but for the end of it.

may justice live on.

pain pain pain, I should be doing schoolwork but like, pain. But I do feel like I made some of the character not character like maybe, I’m not sure hhhhhh.

mod mikan

[volturialice]

me: i’m not gonna write any more of the drugged!human alice au

also me:

it has a title now too I guess. posting in a huge rush because I was supposed to be out the door ten minutes ago, so it’s even more unbeta’ed than usual. oh well

2,180 words

warnings: drugs, discussion of date rape, vomiting

rating: T

pairings: jalice

part 1 here

perihelion 2/?

It’s hard to tell visions from dreams. Sometimes, Alice doesn’t know which is which until a vision is coming true right in front of her, and then it’s like, okay, too late to do anything about this now. It means all of her dreams are high stakes—any nightmare could become a life-ruining disaster, any good dream could be made or unmade real by some hidden catalyst she doesn’t know about. She’s pretty sure she almost bombed the PSAT because she didn’t wear the blue top she had on in the dream where she scored a 189.

But her inability to tell the difference was never that big of a deal until Forks—until she started dreaming about the Cullens, and Jasper specifically. She wishes she could tell which of the Jasper dreams are real. They’re just so…well, horny. If Alice knew they were visions, and not her subconscious making a complete, desperate idiot of itself, she could be less embarrassed about the whole thing.

Tonight she dreams of Jasper and Rosalie in a room with green walls and shiny wood floors. They’re different in the dream, somehow—more still. Rosalie doesn’t sit. Jasper doesn’t blink.

Between them, an open doorway gapes into darkness. Just visible in the room beyond is the silhouette of a prone figure on a bed, unmoving. They watch it for an uncomfortable amount of time before Rosalie speaks.

“If she were any other human, I would have hunted you for sport, you know.”

“I know,” says Jasper, sounding impossibly old and tired.

“I would be off absolutely wrecking your shit right now, and then I would take care of the liability, because that’s how it works in this family. But she’s…this.” Rosalie grimaces, gesturing to the figure on the bed. “And why was it you told us you were following her, again? To ‘ensure her silence?’ Right,” she scoffs, evidently too disgusted with Jasper to keep looking at him.

“She hasn’t said anything. She won’t.”

“No, she won’t, because you’ll stop her at all costs, will you?”

Jasper’s face doesn’t betray the slightest twitch, but his eyes harden almost imperceptibly. “Not that way.”

Rosalie whirls back around. “You were supposed to be the one person I could count on to do what’s necessary! And now you’re telling me you won’t? Listen to yourself!”

Jasper throws up his hands. “Why are you here, then, Rose? Why are you helping her?”

“I’m helping you, you jackass! I know you all think I’m this narcissistic bitch, but I’m not…not inhumane, okay?” Rosalie levels a contemptuous glance at him, then looks away. “I don’t want some girl to be date-raped, however dangerous she is. And I’m not about to sit by and watch you make a complete mess of things.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I think that ship may have sailed,” grumbles Jasper.

“I’ll say. I drive up and she’s going on about how you’re stalking her and claiming you’re dating? She should have been killed the moment she figured out what we were, but instead you’re following her around protecting her because of some bizarre psychic connection she claims you have? Make it make sense, Jasper.”

“Edward confirmed her ability is real.”

“Great, so she’s a bigger freak than us. That makes it all ok,” snaps Rosalie, dripping with sarcasm. “Wonderful to know your abysmal taste in women hasn’t altered after all these years.”

Jasper ignores both the jab and the implication. “Earlier you made it sound like you were on her side.”

“I just think you ought to admit what’s really going on here. You won’t let us kill her—fine. It’s utterly irresponsible and stupid, but I can accept that. But it’s not like we can allow her to keep existing out there as a human, knowing what she knows.”

Jasper barks out a humorless, incredulous laugh. “Are you advocating that we should have Carlisle change her? You, Rosalie Hale, want to ‘take away her humanity?’”

Rosalie shrugs. “I’m not saying she wouldn’t be better off dead. But she’s not a very good human, is she? I gather she’s not exactly thriving. They have to pump her full of drugs just to keep her functional, and her human peers still think she’s insane. Be realistic. Her life was over the moment she learned the truth about us.”

Jasper’s only response is a slow shake of his head, like he still can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Rosalie’s eyes narrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about changing her. Don’t tell me it wasn’t your first thought, when you realized you didn’t want her dead. I may not be the mind reader in the family, but I know that’s a lie.”

It takes Jasper a beat too long to answer. “Of course I’ve thought about it.”

“Not enough, apparently. Right now, we’re in as much danger as she is. If she were one of us…well, her life is already ruined anyway. At least then we’d have her oh-so-special ability on our side.  Surely you can see the strategic advantage,” Rosalie rebukes. “Better Carlisle changes her than the Volturi. Has it occurred to you that if they ever find out she exists, the decision will be taken right out of your hands?”

“It’s not in my hands.”

Rosalie rolls her eyes again. “Hers, then.”

He sighs. “The possibility did occur to me.”

“You think she wants to learn Italian and live in a sewer? Eat tourists?”

“I have no idea what she wants.”

Rosalie laughs. “Right, because she’s playing it so close to the vest. She called you a simp. Do you know what that means?”

“We’re not talking about this.”

“Funny how you never want to confide in anyone, yet here we are.”

Jasper’s look says that isn’t what’s going on here, but he doesn’t respond. They settle back into tense silence.

“What are you going to do about the man? The one who drugged her?” asks Rosalie after a while.

“Eliminate him. Quietly.”

Rosalie nods. “Carlisle won’t like it.”

“He doesn’t have to.”

“Can you actually do it, though? Without slipping?”

Jasper doesn’t answer, which is an answer in itself.

“I could do it.” Rosalie’s voice is quiet.

“It’s not your problem.”

“Exactly,” Rosalie insists. “It wouldn’t be a problem for me. If you slip…well, we may not have to move, but you won’t be able to come back to school for months. Going to trust the rest of us to babysit your human?”

“I won’t slip,” says Jasper, but for the first time, he sounds uncertain.

Alice’s dream chooses this moment to blur and shift. Jasper and Rosalie melt away, voices distorting until they’re drowned out by other voices, other sounds and images that crowd in and pull at her, like being tossed around in a rough ocean. They come one after another, too fast to make sense of them—muddy tires, a burst of cut-off music, a slow, dark ooze crawling over pavement, an echoing splash. Familiar red eyes, looking down at her.

Then Alice is awake, and the eyes looking down at her are black. Wait, no. There are no eyes looking down at her. It must have been part of the dream.

She’s lying on something soft—a bed. Above her is a white ceiling. Her head throbs with a confused, cotton-y ache, and her mouth tastes disgusting.

What the hell happened? Alice isn’t great at piecing together chronological sequences at the best of times. She remembers being in Port Angeles…splitting up with Bella in order to meet her friends from the art show at a bar, and then…people talking, her legs sticking to the green leather barstool.  The lights getting blurry around the edges, the cool, slippery feel of condensation from the glass in her hand, and…oh. Oh, shit. Jasper.

Jasper had been there. The last thing she can recall is Jasper approaching, his face twisted in rage so murderous that she’d thought, huh, I guess he really is a vampire.

She rolls over and—speak of the devil—there he is, standing kind of a weird distance away, halfway between the bed and the door. He looks far less murderous than she remembers.

“Good morning,” she croaks, struggling into a sitting position. “Um. Where the hell am I?”

“Port Townsend,” says Jasper, which means absolutely nothing to her. She’s only been in Forks a few months—is she seriously supposed to know Washington geography?

To Alice’s immense relief, she’s still fully clothed. She does a surreptitious check to make sure her boobs aren’t falling out of her shirt, and when she looks back up there’s a glass of water in front of her face. She takes it and chugs the whole thing down in a few gulps. Why does she feel so hungover? She had only had, like, two drinks last night. Certainly not enough to make her black out and forget the whole evening. No, this big, empty gap in her memory feels more like when they used to drug her at the hospital. In fact, it feels exactly like that.

Jasper takes the empty glass from her and hands her another full one. He’s still watching her in a way that makes her want to squirm and fidget. Why had he been so angry last night?

She chugs the second glass of water while her sluggish brain tries to add it all up. Angry Jasper plus no memory plus waking up in a bed in a strange place, equals…yikes. Maybe she shouldn’t be drinking whatever he hands her.

“Uh,” she taps her fingers against the empty glass, “why do I feel like I’ve been roofied?”

“Because you were. Here,” says Jasper, handing her something else. Her own phone, somehow fully charged. One new voicemail, from…herself.

Future Alice, this is Past Alice. You’re probably pretty freaked out right now, but it’s okay! Jasper didn’t drug you. I repeat, Jasper did not drug you. Be nice to Rosalie; she’s there to help. Now put the phone down, you’re about to hurl. Bye!

Alice has just enough time to think, Rosalie? before a violent wave of nausea hits and she’s throwing up into the waste bin that appears in front of her face. “Ugh,” says the person holding it, and sure enough, there’s Rosalie.

There’s something extra humiliating about throwing up in front of two vampires, one of whom she kind of has a thing with and the other of whom is his super-hot sister who hates her. Thankfully, her stomach was empty except for the two glasses of water.

Rosalie blurs out of the room—damn, she’s fast—and reappears without the waste bin. It’s weird being on the bed while Rosalie and Jasper are standing, so Alice gets to her feet, already feeling way better. “Whose house is this?” she asks.

“Mine,” says Rosalie, practically shooting laser beams of resentment from her eyes.

“You wouldn’t let us take you home or to the hospital,” explains Jasper. “This is Rosalie and Emmett’s beach cottage.”

“Cottage” seems like the wrong word for this place, now that Alice gets a look at it. It has eight- or nine-foot ceilings and the view out the window—a vast, gray body of water that might be the ocean or some kind of bay—looks like a default computer desktop.

“Oh. So, then…someone else drugged me last night?” She tries to remember who she was talking to before Jasper came over, but she’d talked to so many people at the bar that they all kind of blur together in her head.

Jasper nods.

“Like we’d ever need to drug you,” says Rosalie. Oh, right. Vampires.

“So you just…watched me sleep?”

“Yeah, it was riveting. I had no idea snoring like a lawnmower was a side effect of rohypnol.”

So Alice was supposed to be nice to Rosalie, huh? Easier said than fucking done.

Something pushes at the back of her mind—Rosalie and Jasper watching her sleep. She, Alice, had watched them watching her sleep—from outside her own body. A vision, then, and not a dream.

She tries to remember the rest of it on the drive back to Forks, staring out the back window of Rosalie’s BMW like a kid with the two vampires up front. There had been something else in the vision, something besides the disjointed set of images. Jasper and Rosalie had talked about her, about whether or not she should be a vampire. She sneaks a glance at Jasper in the car mirror, at his downcast, shadowed eyes. Had he ever actually said whether he wanted Alice to be a vampire or not?

His eyes snap up to meet hers in the mirror, so suddenly she almost jumps. Alice looks away, guilty for no real reason. The vision, think about the vision.

There had been something else in it: a plan. They were going to…something. Something about slipping, something Rosalie thought she could do better than Jasper…

Right. They were going to kill someone.

.

.

rosalie @ human bella: noooo don’t become a vampire you’re so fertile aha

rosalie @ human alice: yeah nobody’s impregnating this little gremlin. bite away

[arsenicpanda]

Your favourite Riverdale episodes for Bughead?

Omg, thank you SO MUCH for humoring me!  Now then, favorite episode for just bughead?  Ooh, that's a tough one, so many good choices!  I'm gonna give you top six becaue I suck at choosing.  Actual thoughts under the cut.

- 1x06: This and 1x05 are the OG bughead episodes, but I pick this one over 1x05 because it has The Kiss, among other things.  Like, Jughead trying to break through the orderlies to get to Betty?  Amazing. Betty taking Jughead with her to go see her sister?  Excellent.  Jughead climbing through that window and making two literary references in quick succession?  Fantastic.  Betty's face and Jughead's sigh after their first kiss?  I love it.  Jughead has clearly been wanting to kiss her for SO LONG, and Betty has a face of, "Oh, I didn't realize how much I wanted that, but it turns out to have been a lot."  And Jughead's adoring face at Betty's "The car!"?  Iconic, he loves her brain so much, thinks she's so amazing.  It also has Jughead's "We're all crazy" and "We're not our parents.  We're not our families", which are both SO GOOD.  And Betty opens up to Jughead and is so vulnerable with him!  And it's a good episode for their investigations too, with the SoQM and then the looking for the car in the rain.  Bonus points for Jughead's scandalized reaction to what looks like, of all things, brick weed.  As an episode, it really showcases both a shared interest (solving mysteries) and a willingness to be vulnerable and honest with each other.

- 2x12: The dynamic duo back again!  I love how, when the chips are down and Jughead needs someone's help, he goes to Betty, even when they're not together.  He trusts her, and she is completely down to help him immediately.  And help she does!  They do some great investigation here, it's so fun, and they look great while doing it!  Betty's dress is gorgeous, and Jughead's Serpent jacket over his suit jacket is such a hilarious look in concpet and yet it somehow works!  Also, Betty immediately noticing that something is wrong with Jughead at Veronica's Confirmation party and going to find him because she's worried was just the sweetest, as was Jughead's "She's one of us" (or whatever he said to that effect) when Betty was voting with the Serpents.  Also?  Betty not freaking out when Jughead said he cut Penny was quality.  She is not afraid of the fact he is a crazy person!  And, of course, there's their first time together, which is so slow and sweet.  Jughead apologizing for being a dumbass and Betty going "I can handle it" about his ~darkness~ was so pure, as was his "Or you could stay. ...Stay."  The way he put his hand on her dress!  So tentative, so sweet.  And also?  The way they just got RIGHT to it, with Betty straddling him immediately and Jughead making the quickest work of that dress.  And Betty's "I want all of you tonight" while hiding the Archie kiss secret!  She didn't want to ruin the moment, this closeness with him, so she lied, which is pretty classic Betty, tbh, and a great contrast to Jughead's admission of doing some stuff with Toni "but not everything" and also being like "she's a pal" because what a great way to describe a friend.  Also, omg, Jughead apologizing Betty for her getting dragged into the witchhunt against the Serpents and him was so sweet!  Also amazing was when Jughead said that Sheriff Keller suspected him of decapitating the statue and Betty just replied with a playful smile, "And...did you?" because she knows him, she knows he'd pull some crazy stunt like that but also believes him when he says he didn't.  And we get jealous Betty, which is QUALITY.  And the fact that they're both like, "So, have you, uh, done anything with Toni/'anyone'?  Not that it's my place.  But, uh, have you?", just trying to be nonchalant but they are INVESTED and QUIETLY NERVOUS and JEALOUS BUT IN A WAY THEY FEEL BAD ABOUT.  This is the closest we get to pining bughead, and I love it, I will take it.  They continue to be so vulnerable with each other, it's precious.

- 2x19: RISE, DARK BUGHEAD, RIIIIIISE!!  We get some quality bughead investigation, and also they TIE CHIC UP IN A BASEMENT WITH DUCT TAPE AND INTERROGATE HIM!  Jughead punches him to try and get him to talk, and Betty's reaction is just to gently cup his face!  Betty briefly chokes Chic and Jughead is just stading there supportive!  They are 100% down with each other's extreme measures, just completely on the same page there.  I love seeing each of them going full The Ends Justify The Means, and this episode I get to see them go about it TOGETHER, how amazing is that?!

- 3x16:  Ok, their morning spent talking together, drinking coffee or tea or whatever, at Betty’s window because THEY LIVE TOGETHER OMG!  They’re fucking PLOTTING in the goddamn MORNING; when I was a teenager I dragged my ass through mornings, but these two are like, “Let’s discuss ways to defeat Gladys the Drug Lord,” just completely awake.  These are the things they talk about in the morning!  They are so fucking weird!  Also, the adoring face Betty gives him and the nose boop, too cute.  While I’m not big on Seventeen in terms of music (I don’t think they pull off the singing, which I don’t fault them for because musicals are HARD in terms of the vocal range they demand.  Also, Jughead just sounds off somehow and it distracts me.), I love it as a bughead moment.  I appreciate their desire for something normal, it’s so sweet, even if I think that they wouldn’t be very good at living “normal” lives at this point; I think they crave investigations too much.  Also, Jughead getting on his knees in a way that is very proposal-esque (his second pseudo-proposal!  Third time’s the charm, so WHEN DO I GET IT???) is QUALITY.  And Betty just does such a great job of comforting the saddest Jughead.  Also also, they BURN DOWN THE TRAILER AND HAVE SEX IN FRONT OF IT WHILE IT BURNS!  That is LEGENDARY, that is the kind of quality, mutual fucked-up-ness that I want in my ships!  And it’s preceded by Jughead being all, “I’m okay because you’re here with me”, the sweetest fucking sentiment.  Also, the return of the crown sweater, if just for a moment.  This is just Betty and Jughead being a team, being willing to do crazy things to help each other, and also they are apparently turned on by arson, which is just amazing.

- 4x16:  A whole episode of Betty and Jughead being smug and gloating, I literally couldn’t ask for more.  Everything about them is amazing in this episode and the gloating whodunnit scene, the way they set each other up for each piece of their explanation, and also Betty’s “the worst thirty-six hours of my life” and then they hold hands and it is FUCKING PRECIOUS.  Also also?  Betty and Jughead both going to extremes to protect/avenge the other.  Like, they both go full The Ends Justify The Means, with Jughead literally beating the shit out of Bret both as a method of information extraction and, lbr, just regular vengeance in Betty’s name and with Betty waiting in the darkness of Donna’s room to surprise her, rip her grandmother’s legacy from her, and leave like a boss, all because Donna tried to kill Jughead.  Like, Betty promised to go after Donna specifically, and she did, saving her info for personal blackmail that she can guarantee will work as opposed to relying on the justice system, which can be shaky.  These are both fucked up things to do!  Jughead’s especially, tbh; it isn’t official police brutality because there are no cops involved in the beating, but it is certainly adjacent to that since Charles let them in and turned a blind eye to their actions and then used their actions/threats to his benefit.  That’s fucking dark as hell and I love it (within a fictional context, of course, and even in that context I’m only chill with it because Bret has the money to otherwise escape all consequences).  And then, after they’ve both done all that, they’re so soft together in a couple of other scenes, it’s the cutest thing ever.

- 4x19:  DARK BUGHEAD YESSSS!  Granted, it’s fictional dark bughead, but I love that not only did Jughead write a dark story where he and Betty are murderers who do things like kill their friends to get rid of the weak link after Betty’s comment of “Or we could kill him”, and not only do we get to see those scenes, but Betty was completely on board with this story.  Not only was she on board with the original killing of Mr. Honey, but she was like, “Ooh, we killed Reggie to keep him from cracking under pressure and revealing our dark truth, how very sexy of you, Jughead”. They are so weird!  And Jughead’s “So no one is going to know the perverted truth about us...but us” was hot as hell, as was the fact that he followed it up by tugging her bak by her ponytail to kiss her while having his other hand lightly resting on her neck.  That is some explicit G-rated stuff!  Also, they were absolutely about to makeout in front of an open door in the Blue and Gold before they were interrupted by Kevin.  That is so wild!  Also, Betty editing Jughead’s work is always a win.  He values her opinion so much!  She loves his writing and thinks it’s amazing despite the fact it isn’t very good!  I love it, I love them.

[mildkatfics]

small talk  rating: m  word count: 6316 summary: Simon and Baz come to the family estate for Christmas, for the first time as an official couple. read on ao3

I did it with an email. Not even with my personal account. My fucking LSE address:  basilton.pitch@lse.ac.uk. 

Dear All, 

Hope you’re well. I’m sending this message this way because it would be too crude to do it on my mobile, and I didn’t want to wait to be back at Hampshire to tell you. I hope you don’t mind. 

I’m gay. Simon Snow and I have been in a romantic relationship this whole time, and we are happy. 

I suspect none of you are surprised, but it was getting ridiculous to pretend like none of us knew the situation. I am, however, happy to carry on as always. I just figured it’s time for us to get through this bit. 

Regards, 

Basil 

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch 

MA Candidate, Teaching Assistant 

Department of Political Science | London School of Economics 

“Merlin, don’t use your email signature.” Snow peers next to me on the sofa. “Using this account is bad enough.” 

“I kind of like it,” I admit. “It reminds them to be proud of me.” 

“Remove it. And shut up, they’re proud of you.” He rests his chin on my shoulder. I can smell the coffee on him, though he’s showered after work. I wonder if he’ll ever stop smelling of Starbucks. He glares up at me through his eyelashes. “Say it.” 

I narrow my eyes. “No.” 

“Baz. Say it.” He rolls his eyes and shoves his body against mine, slightly toppling me over. He hasn’t gotten any gentler over the years. I love it. “Say that your family is proud of you.” 

I sigh, but give in. “My family is proud of me.” 

“So is your boyfriend.” 

I indulge in a sneer, and he throws it right back at me. I say it. “So is my boyfriend.” 

He grins, and sits back up. “Right. Now remove the email signature and send it. And remove my last name. You’re talking to your family, not applying for a mortgage.” 

I snort. “I’m pretty sure my father doesn’t know what a mortgage is.” 

“Here,” Snow takes my laptop from me and removes the signature and his last name from the email. I watch his brow furrow and his lips move slightly as he focuses on re-reading the text. He starts to tug on his hair, and I almost laugh. I didn’t bother spending too much time on the message, but here he is, reading and re-reading every word because he cares. I press my lips against his cheek. I let myself linger, inhaling his scent. Dark Roast. Probably the Christmas Blend. “Don’t give yourself a hemorrhage,” I murmur. 

He ignores me for a while before speaking again. “I’m gonna hit send, yeah?” 

I don’t take my eyes off him, not even bothering to read it over. “Yeah.” 

I watch his finger hesitate for a second on the trackpad, then clicks it. He blinks and takes a deep breath, and I laugh. “Are you going to be alright?” I joke. 

His eyes slide over to me. “You just came out to your family. I can’t tell if I’m overreacting, or if you’re...underreacting.” He cards his fingers through my hair. “I also can’t tell if you’re hiding your feelings from me, or if you’re a complete fucking sociopath.” 

I laugh again, and I consider his question seriously. “I’m happy,” I think out loud. I make sure to look in his eyes when I finish my sentence. “But that’s par for the course nowadays, isn’t it?” 

Snow tries to trap his grin into a smirk. “Sap.” He leans in and brushes his lips against mine. I lean hard and deepen the kiss, and I feel him grin for real and bite my bottom lip. I give an indignant grunt, but don’t bother pretending how much that gets me on. He pushes back until he braces himself against the arm of the sofa, trapping me. I grip his shirt in my fist, only because I would never let him do that to me. And I do it to him, because I get off on that kind of thing. And so does he. 

My laptop pings from the coffee table, and Snow breaks away. “What are you doing?” I hiss, and capture his mouth back in mine. 

“That’s probably your family.” He crawls back and opens my laptop. 

I slump back, keeping my eyes closed. “Is it my father?” 

I can feel him roll his eyes at me. “Baz. You read it.” I feel the sleek metal on my chest. I sigh, and I open it. 

Dear Basil, 

Thank you for your email, and for your candor. We look forward to seeing you both this Christmas. We’ve actually just invited loads of your aunts and uncles for this year. Wonderful timing, isn’t it? All my love to you and Simon. 

Also, please remember to bring my mixing bowl. 

Sincerely, 

Daphne 

Snow is peering over my shoulder. “I’ve always liked Daphne.” 

I have, too. 

— 

“I’m not asking you to memorize a family tree here, love.” I’m leaning against the condiment stand, now plastered with plastic snowflakes, a few feet from where Snow is working. The fairy lights around the place sparkle against his skin, complimenting his freckles. I watch the way his arms flex as he pulls chairs back, handles cups and saucers, and carries our conversation with a kind of effortless rhythm that I find really hot. “And you’ve done this before. You’ve spent, what, four other Christmasses with my family?”

“Oh, don’t even try pretending this is the same. This is the first Christmas since your email, not to mention all these people.” He replies without looking at me. He looks up and smiles towards the door when a patron enters, and turns his head back to an empty table. “You have, like, five uncles with loads of kids a piece, who all speak Latin—” 

“They speak English too.” 

“Not the French ones.” 

I purse my lips. “So you have been listening. Don’t worry about them. They stick amongst themselves, anyway.” 

“I’ll be right with you, mate.” Simon calls out to the guy. He throws his cloth onto his shoulder and starts walking backwards towards the bar. He redirects his attention to me. “Busy now, I need you to go away. We’ll talk about this at home.” 

I give him a pout. I’m six foot two, wearing a Tom Ford coat, and pouting at my boyfriend at a Starbucks. I’m shameless. 

His eyes, still locked on mine, sparkle for a second before he turns all his attention on his customer. “Sorry about that. What can I get started for you?” 

I let the smile stay on my face even as I exit the shop and head to class. 

— 

I lay my suitcase and my folded clothes on the bed. I almost ruined a white cashmere on my last trip by putting my toiletries on the same side, so I place it at the very top this time. Then I decide it’s actually better to put it at the bottom of the stack, to keep it safe. So I pull everything out to rearrange. I place my socks in between the empty spaces. “You should focus on your own packing instead of watching me do mine.” I turn to raise an eyebrow at Snow, watching me from the door. 

Snow mirrors the gesture, opens his dresser, and dumps a bunch of clothes into a black backpack that he picked up from the floor. “Done.” 

I wrinkle my nose. “Will you please let me pack for you next time?” 

Amusement lights up his face. “I think I should pack for you.” He sits on our bed, looks at my full suitcase, and looks up at me. “It’s two days, darling. Or is this one of your anxiety-packings?” 

“Aren’t you the one nervous to meet my family?” 

He groans and flops down on his back. “I’m trying not to panic, but the closer we get, the more I think about it.” He lifts his head to look at me. “Please tell me I’m not the only one. There has to be another cousin’s weird boyfriend or someone who flunked out of uni or whatever your family gossips about.” 

I consider it. “Elvira voted Labour in the last election and told everyone.” 

“Rookie mistake.” 

“I know. Don’t even utter anything remotely political in that house.” 

“Great. So don’t mention your school, career, or passions, and we should be good to go.” He sighs before muttering, so low that I can barely hear it, “Bloody hell.”

A beat of silence passes, and I can hear his brain spinning into overdrive. “Snow,” I start. 

“They’re gonna eat me alive.” 

“They won’t.” 

“They will.” 

“They won’t.” I look him in the eyes when I say it. “Do you trust me?” 

He snorts and rolls his eyes at my low blow. He looks at me for a moment, hesitates, then nods. 

“Good,” I say. “Just stay close to me and look pretty.” 

He shoves me, hard, and laughs. 

— 

The drive up to the country is still one of my favourites. Fiona would usually drive me each year in December for the holidays, and I loved watching London slowly disappear. The buildings and adverts fade away. The last minute Christmas Eve shoppers nowhere in sight. The snow on the roads thicker, whiter. Trees replacing lamp posts. The thrill is multiplied now that I’m behind the wheel, with Snow on the passenger seat, his fingers massaging my nape and pulling slightly on my hair. The road is deserted, and I accelerate. The engine purrs with the effort underneath us, and I can’t help but grin. I feel electric. 

Snow looks at me. “Are you smiling because you’re endangering my life?” 

I raise my eyebrow at him. I can make this drive with my eyes closed. I go faster, and his eyes light up. His finger travels up my nape, and starts scratching my scalp. Gooseflesh erupts across my arms. “You keep this up, and this car will spin off the path.”

“Anything to delay getting there, right?” 

My eyes slide towards him. Just as I try to gauge how serious he’s being, he retracts his hand to run it down his face. 

“Simon,” I start to say. 

“No, s’alright. S’alright, I promise. I think I just need to get through the first bit, then I’ll get in the zone.” I can hear his heartbeat pick up. I slow the car to a halt. 

He keeps his eyes closed when he mutters, “I may seem like I’m mental, but I’m fine. I’m great.” 

“I’m sure.” I keep my hands on the wheel when I turn to him. “We don’t have to do this, you know.” 

“‘Course we do.” 

“I’ll turn the car around right now if you’d like. I’m serious.” 

“And I’m serious when I say I can do this. I can. Besides,” he drops his hands and looks at me. “I want the roast beef.” 

I laugh, but my face settles into a frown. “Are you sure?” 

His lip quirks upward. “Start the car, Baz.” As we accelerate, he adds, “Though if Daphne decides to suddenly go vegetarian or something, I swear to Merlin and Morgana we are leaving.” 

I smile, and I let my right hand drop down to loosely lock with his left. The rest of the drive is as beautiful as I remember it. 

— 

When we pull in and step out, there are already cars lined along the path. Snow stretches his arms above his head, his green jumper riding slightly above his waist. I pop open the boot and grab my suitcase, but Snow touches my wrist. “Let me,” he says. I stare at him as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, take my suitcase and the paper bag in his right hand, and shuts the boot with his left. 

He takes my hand and starts walking. I roll my eyes. “Are you doing this to impress my father?” 

“I’m trying to impress my boyfriend.” 

He’s a git, and I love him. “At least let me carry the bloody mixing bowl,” I say, grabbing the bag. I think about how inappropriate it would be to snog him ten feet from my family home. We never did when we’d come for the holidays, but would we start, now that everyone knows we’re a couple? I spot a lamborghini parked near ours, and the possibility dissolves. Fat chance Snow would feel at ease enough to do anything like that.  

We approach the door, and I feel the heat and energy radiating off of him. His feet shuffle in place, and he rubs the back of his head. My finger hesitates before ringing the bell. I should say something. Some final words of affirmation, to make sure he’s feeling better— 

My eyes widen when Simon shoves me into the wall, and they flutter shut when he kisses me. Deeply. He looks sheepish when he breaks away, stil inches away from my face. “Sorry. Don’t know when I’ll get to do this again.” 

I kiss him another time before letting him go. “Idiot.” I let my smile stretch wide across my face as I ring the doorbell. 

— 

The parlour is already half-full of people, but the staircase is blessedly tucked away when we enter the house. I can see a few of my relatives from where we stand. Most I recognize, and others I don’t. Cousins whose faces ring a bell but have changed since they’ve grown. New wives and husbands. Little toddlers using their magic like firecrackers, sending sparkles and clouds of smoke in the air as they chase each other up and down the stairs. 

Daphne shoos them away as she leads us to my room—our room. “How was the drive, darling?” 

“Lovely, thank you. The snow’s being kind to us this year, isn’t it?” I can already feel my tongue change inside my mouth. My years with Simon has morphed my vocabulary and made my words looser. More relaxed. Simon’s chuffed, of course; my slurring speech and clipped words are entirely his fault. Here at home, though, it’s like my whole body automatically straightens. 

“Oh, yes.” Daphne replies. She swiftly spells the stray toys and wrinkled carpets tidy. The mixing bowl has long floated to the kitchen. “Nothing can be as ghastly as last year. Your Uncle Edgar’s tires had a tough time, remember? He’s got a new car now.” 

Ah, yes. The lamborghini. 

“Have you got new flowers, Daphne?” Snow asks. This catches me by surprise. 

That makes her smile. “Yes, actually. I thought orchids might brighten the place up for the children. You’ll see the poinsettias in the kitchen.” She clasps her hands when we reach our room. “Right. I’ll let you two get settled. Don’t wait too long to come down, everyone’s excited to meet you.” She squeezes Simon’s hand and walks back to the party. 

Simon opens the door, drops the bags, and walks back out. “Right, let’s do this.” I look at him. I was planning on showering, at the very least changing clothes. He speaks again before I can ask. “If I go in there, I’m not gonna want to come back out. Let’s get on with it, yeah?” 

I hesitate, then I nod. I rub his back while we go down the stairs, as the party sounds get louder. Well, calling it ‘party sounds’ would be misleading. It’s murmurs, conversation, and the occasional clinking of dishware. 

Snow grips my elbow before we step into the parlour. “Stay close to me,” he whispers. 

There was a time when I wouldn’t say my reply out loud. That was a long time ago. “Always.” I say, firmly. 

— 

It’s fine. It’s only been two hours, but it’s been fine. 

Snow and I entered the parlour, and I don’t know what dark curse is after us, but my cousin Emille approaches us first. Of the French Pitches. 

“Basil! Bonsoir, comment ça va?" She had smiled warmly. We always got on well during these events. 

“Bien, bien. Et tu?”  

We kept up this back and forth for a few minutes, and it became clear that she had no intention of speaking to Simon. “Sorry, I don’t believe you’ve met Simon. My partner,” I say in English. I place my hand at the small of his back and smile at him. 

He smiles at her and holds out his hand, right when she goes in for a kiss on the cheek. 

The conversation didn't last very long. 

As I was steering us away from Emille, I caught my father’s eye from across the room. His smile almost reached his eyes when he called us over. Almost. 

“Basil,” He said, gripping my shoulder. “Welcome home.” I nod, and he turned to Simon. “All right, Simon?” 

Simon holds out his hand. “Good evening, sir.” He smiles, but I can see his jaw pulled taut. I can feel his pulse picking up. He’s called my father that every year. 

I waited for him to correct Simon, to call him literally anything else, but he shook Simon’s hand and replied, “Did the snow give you any trouble on the drive?” 

“Not at all. Made it in record time,” Simon replied, while I grit my teeth in annoyance. 

“Very good. Your aunts and uncles are thrilled to see you...” 

Thankfully, since then, we’ve stayed off to the side as each uncle and aunt exchanged pleasantries and tried their best to casually mention their child being brilliant or athletic or powerful. Each is playing their own game, and they’re all losing. I see Simon intently listening, his eyes darting back and forth to keep up with this pathetic six-person tennis match. I want to rub his back again. To tell him not to waste so much energy for this. That he’s too good for any of them. 

Instead, I sip my wine and look around the house. Fiona hasn’t arrived yet—typical. She’d probably bust in at half-nine, after dinner and when the children are about to sleep. I watch Mordelia sit in the far corner near the dining room, her nose in a book, with one of the toddlers curl up next to her. Softie. She’s gotten so tall since I last saw her... 

My attention whips back when I hear my Aunt Ariadne says my name. “Are you at uni, then, Basil?” 

I uncross my legs and straighten my spine. “Yes, doing my Master’s at LSE.” 

I pray she’ll let me leave it at that, and she replies with, “Oh, lovely. Your cousin Rainn is thinking of pursuing one as well. She’s almost done her undergrad. Over at Cambridge.” Good old Aunt Ariadne. 

I nod and smile, about to prompt her about her precious Rainn and Cambridge, when my father speaks up. “Have you decided on your dissertation, Basil?” 

I try not to sigh when I say my practiced reply. “I have. I’m doing it on democratic theory and fiscal austerity in the EU.” I leave it as vague as possible, and hope the conversation simmers away. 

I see Edgar sit up, and I brace for impact. “Good lad. More people your age ought to learn about personal responsibility and the free market.” 

I think about my work, the research I’ve poured over, that argues just the opposite. How the time for austerity has long gone. How democratic theory must be at the forefront of economic policy. But nothing can be worse than a roundtable discussion with my dear Uncle Edgar and half the Pitch extended family, so I swerve. “Yes, the school work can be a pain, but I’m grateful for the opportunity.” 

“Public discourse has thrown what really matters out the window,” he presses, and I can see his face begin to liven up. “It has corrupted our society. Having Labour in power now, of course, is a bloody nightmare. Giveaways here and there. Iced lollies, penny sweets, thousands of pounds a month?  What difference does that make? Throw it all to the wind! There’s a ‘public program’ for anything nowadays.” He makes air quotes with his hand. 

“Edgar,” Daphne starts. 

He ignores her and starts to speak with his hands. Clearly, he’s enjoying being a world-class twat. “And what will that do with my taxes, hm? Wasting and throwing it to bums and lunatics.”

Edgar’s points are so dogmatic, so cartoonishly cookie-cutter, that I almost laugh, but I feel Simon tense beside me. I gently nudge my thigh against his. Steady, love, I want to tell him. 

“Well, dinner’s just about ready. Let’s all wash up and get the children, shall we?” Daphne suggests. Bless her heart. The others heave off the sofa, chairs, and loveseats handsomely positioned all around the parlour, and disperses to different corners of the house. 

I start to get up, relieved to eat, when I see Snow stay put. His jaw is set, and his eyes are fixed on a spot at the wall. The parlour has cleared, so I take my hand loosely in his. “All right?” I ask. 

His fingers absently toy with mine, but it takes a minute for him to look at me. I’m an expert in reading Snow’s transparent face, but right now, I’m at a loss. He nods, stands up, and drops my hand. 

— 

Dinner, so far, is hardly better. At least Daphne didn’t go vegetarian. 

The table is spelled longer to accommodate all the guests, and it stretches from the dining table, past the archway, and into the parlour. 

Next to me, Snow is quiet. He’s aced the table manners over the years, and I smile at the lumps of food on his plate. Underneath the table, I tap his foot with mine, and he taps me back. 

This is good. We can do this. 

Aunt Willow—A Danish Pitch—takes a sip from her wine and turns to us. “So what do you study, Simon?” 

I feel Simon straighten up. “Oh, I don’t, actually. I’m working right now.” 

“Like for a gap year?”

“Er, I’m not sure yet.” He chuckles, and he hides his discomfort well. But not to me. “Just reckon I’d spend my time saving up if I’m not sure what I’d like to study.” 

“Of course, I think that’s wonderful.” I take another bite, and try my best to look nonchalant. But I already start to dread my family’s behaviour. My body feels like I’m about to enter a duel. “Where do you work, darling?” 

Simon hesitates before he replies, “Central London.” I watch his fork swirl around the mash. Willow smiles and nods, and just when I can see her about to turn to someone else, he abruptly adds, “I work at a Starbucks. In Central London. Just by LSE, actually.”

“Lovely,” she says, and I can tell she’s at a loss with what to say next, but that won’t stop her from carrying a conversation. “I tried a scone from there one morning when I was running late to a conference. It was quite good.” 

Simon laughs, and I can feel an edge to it. I decide to jump in. “I’ve had all their scones, Aunt Willow. Almost comparable to Watford, if you ask me.”

Daphne smiles. “Maybe someone can give Cook Pritchard a run for her money.” 

“Baz, you interned at the Home Secretary’s office, didn’t you? When you finished your undergrad?” I hear my father suddenly add.

“Yes, father.” I reply without a beat, though my brow raises slightly at the question. What is he on about? 

“Well, maybe you can connect Simon. He ought to have a better gap year than a cafe, eh?” He’s smiling, but when we make eye contact, I can feel a bucket of cold water splash through me. I clench my fist and I feel a loud clunk on the floor. Simon ducks down to fish his knife from beneath the table. I’m so taken aback from my father’s words that I’ve stopped keeping tabs on him. 

I stare at him from across the table. It’s completely quiet now. 

“Mummy, will you pass the gravy, please?” An even voice says from three seats down. I look over at Mordelia, with her plate almost empty. 

Daphne clears her throat. “Sure, darling.” When Mordelia gets the boat, she sets it down and doesn’t pour it on her plate. 

I clear my throat. “That won’t be necessary. I don’t think they’d even remember me.”

He nods once, and goes back to his roast beef. 

— 

Thankfully, the rest of dinner is quieter. Snow is quieter. 

He barely finishes dessert before he excuses himself and steps away from the table. I smile, excuse myself, and follow him through the parlour. 

I can tell Snow is trying not to stomp and barrel up the stairs. I can tell his jaw is clenched, so tightly that I can hear his teeth scrape together. He opens the door, and we go inside. 

My walls have been permanently spelled sound-proof since I was fifteen. I can still feel the magic I left behind, permeating the wallpaper and the tapestries. A part of my brain appreciates the irony of that; I spell them on the summer I tried to wank my feelings away, and now the spell still stands, concealing the clenching jaw and heavy footsteps of Simon Snow himself. I think I would have been thrilled, had I knew. 

Now, though, I feel my stomach constrict, like cold water sizzling against my heated insides. I sit down on the trunk at the foot of my bed. I want to ask him to sit with me, but I know better. I  watch him five feet away from me, running a hand through his hair. “You’re angry,” I say. 

“‘Yeah. I am.” He’s not saying anything else, but he’s anything but quiet. He takes a deep breath and exhales out his nose. His heart is thumping, and I can hear his blood rush across his veins. He swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob. Like I have countless times before. 

When he speaks, it’s barely above a whisper. “I wanted this visit to work. So badly. But those things he was saying. And you listening and taking it, and...and...” He huffs in frustration. It’s demeaning, Baz.” 

“Is it Edgar? My father?” I ask. “They’re old dickheads, Simon. They humiliate themselves. Can’t even go through small talk without—” 

“That’s the thing,” he interrupts me. His eyes flit to the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but me. “It’s not just </i>small talk.</i> That rubbish he spouts? You think it’s jest?”

“Why do you care what he thinks?” Seeing him so upset is sending a ripple of panic fluttering from my chest. I scramble, and I grasp, and apparently, I break. 

“It’s not just Edgar, isn’t it? It’s that whole lot. What would they say when they find out their darling Basil is dating a bloody chav from a foster home? Leeching away his money ‘cause I serve coffee eight hours a day.” He laughs a bitter, joyles sound. He’s still not looking at me. “This is real life, Baz. It’s not small talk. It’s not a chat during a fucking garden promenade at your family’s club. I guess I’d know if I picked up a few shifts there, wouldn’t I?” 

Irritation swells in my throat. I think about the Easters, Christmases, summers at the club where I kept my mouth shut when my family makes gay jokes about lads and queers and faeries. He has never thrown my privilege in my face. “You know I don’t mean it like that.” 

“Actually, I haven’t the faintest idea what you do mean. Not when you sit there and say nothing.” He breathes again. “It’s not just everyone else.” He repeats. “It’s...it’s you.” 

Fights aren’t the same from when we were twenty. Now, at twenty-three, they don’t feel like we’re one shout from breaking up. They don’t feel like Simon will slip from my fingertips unless I hold on so tightly that my knuckles are white with the effort. They don’t feel like the love I had for him was an overflowing static, buzzing through the air and hurting anyone who dares come close. Now, they’re just fights. 

But they still fucking hurt. 

“Simon, love—” 

“Don’t.” He holds up a hand. He stares at a far wall when he talks to me. “Don’t call me that when I’m upset with you. Please.” 

I stand there, at a complete loss. He turns around, unzips his backpack, and starts shoving his clothes out on the bed. I can see his hands trembling. His heart is still thumping, blood still rushing. I shut my eyes and start to feel the tears well up. Long before I learned to retract my fangs, I’ve mastered retracting my tears first. But I don’t want to hold them back. Not here. Not with him. 

He keeps his back to me, and I stare at it—at the thick ridge, strained and tense. I know he can feel me looking. I want him to keep talking. I want him to yell at me, tell me what to do. Because I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. 

I turn around and open the door. 

“Your toothbrush is in mine,” I mutter. “You almost forgot it this morning.” I close the door shut, and I go down the stairs. 

I blink, but the tears don’t come. Like I said; my body knows when I’m home. 

— 

When you hang a left by the garage, there’s a brick wall on the side of the house. It’s completely dark at night, and dead quiet. At half-eleven, it would be tricky for any visitor to end up there, and I easily make my way down there without being spotted.  It was my favourite spot to sneak a fag. Not that I have one on me. I’d kill for one now. 

I stop when I see Mordelia standing near the bins, one leg folded to prop herself up. I see her blow smoke up to the sky, with the soft ember at her fingertips the only light between us. I had no idea she smoked. 

I walk up to her and join her against the wall. She looks at me, but doesn’t say anything. “Have you got a spare?” I ask her. I can’t remember the last time we spoke. Surely, not last Christmas? 

She flicks open her pack and holds it out to me. I put one between my lips, light it with my wand, take a deep drag, and exhale. I close my eyes and relish the way my head starts to spin. 

“Aren’t you going to tell me off?” Standing next to her, I realize that she’s almost past my shoulder. 

I shrug. “I was about your age when I started.” 

She narrows her eyes and bites her lip, and I think about my life at sixteen. Fifth year. I hope to Merlin and Morgana that she’s not going through even a portion of what I did. I think about saying something to her, or asking about Watford, when she says something that throws me off. “Is Simon never coming back here? After spending a night with the family?” 

I laugh, almost bitterly. I never give her enough credit. “That Edgar is a real wanker, isn’t he?” I deflect. She chuckles, and I take another drag. I follow her line of sight and look at the stars. They’re so much prettier here, away from London. I continue talking. “He’ll be alright; he’s always been stronger than me. It’s me who can’t stand it.” I look back at her and give a half-smile. “Do you want him to? Come back?” 

I was meaning to take the piss, but she slowly nods. “When he spent that first Christmas with us, I didn’t like it. Not cause he was the Chosen One, or whatever. Crowley, that seems like a lifetime ago.” She takes a drag and exhales. I wonder if our father would blame her smoking on me. “I didn’t like it because you were different with him. Where he goes, you go. And neither of you have any clue. It’s like someone cast ‘Shall we dance?’ on you. And it freaked me out to see you so different. It never changed with every December, you see. Didn’t waver or dampen. And Simon never stopped looking bloody terrified every year.” She pauses when I laugh, and then looks at me when she speaks again. “I can barely remember what you were like before him now. I’ve never seen you so happy.” 

I look at her with wide eyes. In the moonlight, I can see how her eyelashes flutter. How her cheeks redden in the cold. I wonder how much she’s absorbed, how much she’s grown up, right under my nose. She puts out her cigarette and stomps on it. Without another word, she turns to head back inside. 

“Mordelia,” I call after her. She turns back to me and raises her eyebrow. “Happy Christmas.” 

She rolls her eyes, but I can see a smile start to form. “Go back inside. Don’t cock it up.” 

— 

I don’t know what to expect when I carefully open our door. Part of me hopes he’d be asleep; he tossed and turned all night last night. 

Instead, I find him sitting on the floor cross-legged, facing the fireplace. He doesn’t say anything when I shut the door behind me. 

I pad across the room and join him, leaving a few feet of space when when I sit. I watch him for a moment in my periphery. He’s hunched over his knees, resting his chin at the top of his knees. I indulge in inhaling his scent. “I’m sorry,” I say. 

He’s silent for a long time. In the quiet, if I concentrate, I can still hear the party below us, louder now that they’ve brought out the brandy. I remember the drill, and I hate it. 

Instead, I listen to the crackling of the flames. Simon’s even heartbeat. 

“I’m not angry anymore,” Snow mutters. He keeps his gaze on the fire. 

“I fucked up tonight,” I say. 

Simon shakes his head, and I spot a small smile on his lips. “You don’t fuck up, darling. You’re too perfect for that. You miscalculated, maybe.” 

He’s trying to lighten the mood, because he knows how. He’s bloody brilliant with that. With me. But I won’t take it. “Simon...”

“We save that phrase for actual fuck-ups, like me.” 

“Simon. No.” I shift to properly face him. He keeps his eyes forward, but that’s alright. “You’re right. Those things are important, and they matter, and they were unacceptable. And I didn’t understand that. And I hurt you.” 

He hesitates before replying. “Don’t you think they have a point?” 

Anger rises in my chest. “No,” I almost growl. “They don’t.” My hands ball into fists, and I force them to open again. I breathe. “Please look at me, love.” 

He does. I scoot forward and lean in, pushing his curls back. “You are not a fuck-up, SiImon Snow. I will make a spreadsheet, I’ll write you a speech. I’ll do a dissertation, and I’ll pass with distinction. Because I’ll prove it. Crowley, I will prove it.” Nothing would be easier to do. Would make me happier to accomplish. 

He looks down and smiles. He takes my hand from his face, kisses my palm, and laces our fingers together. 

“Will you forgive me?” I whisper. 

He leans forward and kisses me. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he answers against my lips. He moves to my ear. “I know I’ll never be a fuck-up as long as I’m your boyfriend.” 

“Because Basil Pitch doesn’t date losers,” I answer breathlessly. 

“Indeed,” he whispers. He moves to my neck, kissing me there. “Merlin, I’ll live up to it. I could be buried with that title, and I’ll be the happiest ghost around.” 

I close my eyes and breathe him in. His pulse is so loud, so close to me, that it rings in my ears. I pretend that it’s mine, that we’re sharing a heartbeat. If I had to stay this close to keep my heart pumping for the rest of my life, I’ll accept it. Gladly. Gratefully. 

“Do you want to go home?” I murmur against his hair. 

He pulls back and looks at me. “Really?”

I can see in his eyes that he wants to. I nod. 

“What about your family?” 

My lip quirks upward. “I think they’ll manage.” 

He keeps looking at me, searching my eyes for hesitation. When he finds nothing, he smiles slowly. “Will you let me drive?” 

I purse my lips. “Then we’ll be even?” 

His eyes sparkle, lips twisting in wicked amusement. “Deal.” 

It’s almost one o’clock in the morning when we step out of the house with our luggage, so I wasn’t expecting anyone to notice. We almost make it past the gate when I hear a voice behind us. “Leaving so soon?” 

I turn around. Fiona. 

I look at her, unsure of what to say. Of whether or not she’d stop us. She drops her cigarette on the ground and stomps it out with her boot. She rolls her eyes and says, “Just give me a hug before you go.” 

I walk forward and wrap my arms around her. When we pull away, she nods at Simon behind me. “Drive safely, yeah?” She jerks her head towards me. “He’d cry if you wreck that Jag.”

I hear Simon chuckle. “I will.” 

She nods. “Go on, then. Before anyone sees you.” 

I kiss her cheek. “I’ll ring you when we get home.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Go.” 

— 

Turns out, the drive is even better in total darkness. 

— 

We woke up on Christmas morning at eleven o’clock. 

I can’t remember the last Christmas where I slept in so late.

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 72

If we still had film or that damn Polaroid camera, I thought, from my perch in the tree above the beach, watching as our group trained below me. I was watching, my quiver on my back, bow hung over my shoulder, and pad to scribble notes on in my hand. This was my new reality. With Lydia’s mother throwing down a gauntlet that warned us just what the Whisperers were truly capable of, the loss, the cruelty, we trained regularly now. And with training came new duties. With new duties came new bullshit. One such thing was my current predicament.

 Not only had I learned to climb a fucking tree better than a spider monkey with more shit packed on me than I cared to think about, but I was being given more responsibilities. There were, pardon the fucking pun, whispers about giving me one of our communities to lead, but I put my foot, leg, entire fucking being down on that one. I didn’t care what my last name was, I was NOT going to suddenly be the fucking leader. Nope. Not gonna happen. No matter how much often Negan brought it up with a twinkle in his fucking eye. Weirdos, every single one of them.

Where was I? Right, sitting alone in a tree, watching my baby sister attack a fucking undead beast while our mom proudly waited to see if she needed backup. What do you do on an average day? I jotted notes, where I saw weaknesses. What I thought could use some improvement, how I thought we could close ranks better. My gaze didn’t linger on anyone too long, not Judith, not Mom, not Daryl. This was training, there wasn’t time to worry or fret. I had to treat it like a battle, and in battle every second counts. Kissing a boo boo or hugs and loving can come after the danger is neutralized, first things first.

 Once the last of the dead was truly dead, I lowered myself to the ground, raking my eyes down the list, reading through my notes to make sure they made sense. Daryl and Mom join me, each one hovering over one of my shoulders, to read over what I noted.

“I noticed that that flank seemed weak-” Mom pointed out, and I heard Daryl give a small grunt of agreement. “If we move-” and on and on.

“Tara woulda been proud of what we’ve done here,” Daryl said, drawing me out of a daydream I didn’t realize I’d fallen into. I blinked away from the mesmerizing sound of the waves crashing and noticed that the two of them were watching me and not the sea. I had to fight against the urge to roll my eyes OR jump in the fucking ocean.

“She told me-” I sighed, I knew exactly what Tara had told her, them. What I’d told HER. Fuck. “You’re right, Jessi, you KNOW that.” Sure, but it doesn’t mean I WANT it. “Ezekiel needs a break. It’s time.”

“No it’s not.” I pushed away from the two of them. My FAMILY for fuck’s sake. “I’m going to go find Rick Grimes’ OTHER offspring. Do me a favor and don’t divvy up the other communities until I get back? I’d hate for Judith to end up with Oceanside and RJ to get, shit, what’s left?” With that parting shot, I finally rolled my eyes, my shoulders, and my neck and left in search of the two members of my family that didn’t ruin my day for shits and giggles.

Unless of course, I was staring down at the mask that was looking up at me with a mocking stare, my baby brother happens to fish out a fucking Whisperer mask during playtime on the fucking beach. Jesus, Mary, Joseph and all the fucking saints. Seriously?!

As though regular training sessions as friendly communal communities wasn’t enough? Now we’re talking lockdowns and people are elevating issues faster than we did after 9/11. Yes, I recall the olden days when things like terror attacks were big news rather than you know, people eating and killing one another was what happened on any day that ended in ‘y’. I was arguing with Mom, knowing that Judith wanted to argue beside me, but this time I actually had a leg to stand on, and Daryl shocked everyone by siding WITH me.

“She’s right.” He muttered, eyes locking on Mom’s. “Jessi’s the only one that stands up for her,” Lydia, he meant, since I was the only other person beside him that was openly supportive of him as an unbiased backer. Mom’s voice was as the leader, and she stayed out of the votes in Council, the others were openly disdainful and THIS? This fucking mask was going to fuck things up for that poor girl in ways that I didn’t even want to think about. “She’s got to go back, soon.”

Judith wanted to come with me, but I shot that down. Her and RJ, they had to wait and come back with Mom and Daryl. Safer with larger numbers, with stronger soldiers, with more eyes and more weapons, I knew she wanted to argue. Luckily she didn’t.

 I’m nearly within the site of the wall of Alexandria when the explosion rings out. And trust me when I say that the worst place you could ever fucking want to be during an explosion like that is on a fucking HORSE. I was pretty sure that I had bruises in spots that even Negan wouldn’t find.

By the time it’s all said and done, I’m in pain, I’m exhausted, and it seems never ending. And I’m right on all counts. I’m back home, but I haven’t a clue what’s going on, because it’s mass chaos. Just constant motion, no sleep and go go go.

Lydia is beside me, promising me that she hasn’t given up, but also that her mother isn’t behind what’s going on. Which I try to focus on, but then Negan is near me and he’s asking me if something hurts and then there’s nothing BUT pain. FUCK. Pain and bright burning light.

“Did you fall?” Why is his voice so fucking echoy? He’s right in front of me, but his voice is so far away? I’m trying to make sense of it, of any of it, but then the dizziness hits. “Jessica Grimes, don’t you fucking dare shut your goddamn eyes you hear me?” My eyes snap open. “That’s right, sweetheart, look right at me.” And then Daryl is beside him and his lips are moving but I don’t have a clue what he’s saying. “She’s got a goose egg, see?” Negan’s hand is covered in blood, where the fuck did he get all that blood? “Yeah, she’s not going to be our little soldier today.” And then nothing.

 When I wake up completely and truly, I’m in my bed in my little house, with Negan holding me cradled to his chest. My first thought, not going to lie, was that I’d died. That I had finally died and was completely and totally dead and gone and we were both in heaven. That’s the only way that he was in my house, without being cuffed, holding me like he wasn’t a lifelong prisoner of my father and family.

“How are you feeling, Jessi?” His voice was rough and deep, from sleep, worry, and from being Negan. I sighed at the very sound of it, and from the way it vibrated through me.

“My head hurts,” understatement of the decade. My head felt like I’d been using it as a battering ram on the world’s heaviest door or wall. “What did I miss?”

Negan’s sign felt heavier than my head. “A lot, but then again, not much.” He snuggled further into me and I let myself return the favor. “That fucking mask has everyone acting like they all have needles up their assholes. Lydia’s taking the brunt of it, of fucking course. Between that and some satellite that has Dr. Smartypants up in arms, the constant undead fucks showing up from the fucking noise, and you, Jessi Grimes, practically crawling up covered in blood and looking for all the fucking world like death-” he groaned, clutching me to him and rolling me onto my back so he could hover over me and drink me in. Making sure that I was really alright, in one piece, and he took time to check every single inch of me. And he wasn’t just using his hands.

I was arching up into his very talented mouth, pleading with him to stop or to give me more, or possibly for him to just fucking smother me when I heard it. A tiny little sort of noise. And maybe, possibly, just MAYBE if I hadn’t heard the noise in a past life I wouldn’t have heard it this particular time, but I had and I did. “Daryl?” It came out louder than I meant it to, and it had an effect that NONE of us expected- or alright ALL of us did.

“NOT my name, Jessi,” Negan’s voice was muffled, and oddly amused, and he seemed intent to keep his mouth thoroughly occupied. His tongue flicked me THERE and I gasped, right when Daryl’s head cleared the doorway. Fuck.

“Damn it,” Daryl growled, even though Negan was UNDER the blanket and ALL of my pertinent bits were modestly covered and to be fair Daryl was PRIVY to ALL those bits. “Why’d ya go and holler for me?”

“Wasn’t actually a ‘holler’,” Negan offered, still sounding mumbled, still NOT helping. “And it’s your own damn fault, you made a noise.”

“She made one first,” Daryl accused, and I felt like I had to be hallucinating. Clearly I was experiencing traumatic brain injury, right? I’d wake up and NONE of this would be real. RIGHT?!

[psyga315]

Some Roses Will Never Bloom: A Rewrite Of Volume 8, Part 1

Never before have I felt so disappointed with the turnout of a RWBY Volume. It had the potential to be extremely good, but it chose mediocrity. Again. It felt like Volume 5 all over again.

I know I should probably wait for the final two episodes, but let’s be fucking honest here. Atlas is done. The plot is finished. These two episodes, if people are to be believed, are to hype for the next Volume and even then, given how RWBY did its “hype” and “payoff” in Volume 8… No, fuck that noise. Those last two episodes will get their own segment called the Volume 9 Character Short. If anything, only scenes with Emerald from those two episodes will be brought over to Volume 8 and if they’re big scenes, like her interacting with Cinder, I’ll make an addendum.

Before we begin, keep in mind that this is not a complete rewrite. If there’s a scene I haven’t mentioned, that’s because it’s good as is and can be left in. Length wise, I’ll try to aim for the same 14 episodes, but minutes wise… Who even counts these anymore?

So, let’s get into the meat and potatoes with a Meta-Rewrite. If this does not interest you, skip ahead to when I start talking about the episodes.

Grimm Expectations

Let’s rewind the clocks back to the hiatus of Volume 7-8. Rooster Teeth is proud to announce a new contest where Grimm entries are submitted and the winner would receive a prize. There was controversy the minute it began and it only got worse when the finalists were called.

So, let’s fix that. In this Meta-Rewrite, Rooster Teeth decide to instead broadens the prize pool to include five winners instead of the one, with no popularity contest to determine the winner. Of course, this doesn’t fix the contest results, which includes a controversial figure. However, because there is no voting involved, it instead becomes a flame war over the design that, let’s be honest, wouldn’t have mattered in the grand scheme of things.

So, yeah, RT uses all five Grimm winners, disregards any fucks that the fanbase has (again) and the only thing I could see happening is if the artist personally reached out to Rooster Teeth and requested it to be removed, to which RT will word it so that it doesn’t backfire in their face.

Alright, now let’s do it.

Divide

We’ll start right where the show left off, with Oscar witnessing the Whale arrive onto Atlas. However, curiously, it is stationary. Oscar asks what’s up with it before Ozpin cryptically tells him that’s what she wants it to do. We don’t need to see a huge montage of Oscar getting to the Crater, but just enough to know how he got there.

We cut to RWBY and co discussing what to do now, especially with Salem making good on her threat. Ruby tries to contact Qrow and Oscar, but she can’t reach them. Pietro and Maria pilot the aircraft down to the same discreet spot they parked in Volume 7. However, as they get off, they’re ambushed by soldiers. Just then, Johanna, May, and Fiona barge in and beat them with an ambush of their own.

“What the hell just happened!?” Johanna barked at Ruby. We’ll cut to fifteen minutes later where they all discuss what happened

“So, Ironwood’s finally lost it.” May mutters. They hear the news and see their wanted posters. Most notably, they see that Robyn and Penny are added to the list and that she and Qrow have a big “ARRESTED” sign over them. However, with Oscar, there’s a clear big red X over his face, causing Ruby to fret. Jaune gets upset and punches a wall, blaming himself for leaving Oscar behind on both occasions.

I don’t think Jaune would blame Ruby at this point, since 1) he, at this point, knows better than to point fingers and 2) it’s more his character to beat himself up rather than someone else.

It’d still be Yang, but she’d be joined by Ren. Yang brings up how Ruby’s leadership led them to this situation and Ren mentions how they destroyed Ironwood’s trust, not knowing what was really said up there back in “Gravity”. Ruby told Yang about how they not only went behind Ironwood’s back but also theirs by telling Robyn about the Amity Tower and thus burned their bridge with Ironwood, only for Blake to go on full blast and say what Critics have been saying for the entire hiatus:

“YOU GUYS ARE ACTING JUST LIKE THE WHITE FANG!”

She explains how they’ve done the exact same things that the White Fang had done, taking lives, stealing vehicles, but she adds the extra caveat of bringing up how they’ve also borrowed from Ozpin’s playbook. She confesses to being the one who planned on telling them about Amity.

However, Johanna breaks up the fight and tells them flat out: doesn’t matter what they did, they need to worry more about what to do. This is when they argue more about what’s important: Amity or Mantle. The team splits up the same way, since it is integral for their arcs to be like this and not go with the obvious “Ren cared about saving the world so he’s going for Amity and Nora cared about Mantle so she will help Mantle.”

Ruby frets more, since “this is what Salem wants”, only for Yang to retort: “well, she’s already getting that right now…”, which stings Ruby since she feels like it meant her splitting off with Ruby while she actually meant what happened with Ironwood. We’re not gonna do the “future” stuff. I feel like that should happen naturally instead of confusing people.

Just before they go, though, Ironwood calls Penny and tells her that Salem is here. Penny is about to answer when Ruby takes the phone away and tells him to fuck off, only for Ironwood to go “hey, people are going to die if you’re acting like a doofus about it!” Ironwood tries to talk more, but Ruby hangs up on him.

We smash cut to Ironwood growling in frustration, looking at the arm he lost in order to stop Watts. He gets a solemn look, pondering to himself about how far he must go in order to save the world. His arm trembles and thinks back to shooting Oscar. He begins to have second thoughts about what he had done, though they’re brief as the Councillors came in. During their rant, Ironwood grabs Sleet by the throat and drags his ass out to a window where they see the whale.

“YOU SEE THAT!? That is what we tried to protect the world from and now it’s at our front door. That’s why I’ve enacted Martial Law.” He then tosses Sleet to the guards and tell him to lock the Councilmen up. “You two have gotten in my way before. I won’t let it happen again.” As they get dragged away, he looks over to Winter and apologizes. Had he not arranged for her to be the Winter Maiden, she wouldn’t have been injured.

Winter reassures him and tells him that he was the only person who has given her purpose in life after her father ruined it. Ironwood is both touched and horrified with that comment, especially once the Ace Ops come, having done their grieving for Clover. Harriet also affirms her faith in Ironwood and tells him that Clover died for his Kingdom. Ironwood gives a moment to think… Closing his eyes.

“So… If I’ve led you all onto the path of hell…” He opens them as we see the light in his eyes disappear, followed by the sound of a loud, distinctive click. “Then there’s no other choice but to keep moving forward.”

And as we get our first official look at Mettle, the opening plays out.

Refuge

The villain scene from Episode 1 is moved over to here, but Cinder brings up why they haven’t made their move yet. Salem brings up that Tyrian’s report of the situation has confirmed that Ironwood has taken her bait and is now the greatest weapon they have. Let him destroy Atlas from the inside out and then clean up the mess. She then brings the relic to the Hound and has him sniff for Oscar’s scent.

The rest of the episode plays out like usual, with Ruby and Yang’s teams doing their thing, but with Oscar at the Crater, he’s not there for the scenes. He does still have his chat with Ozpin about how they’ll be one soon, however. He sees Yang, Ren, and Jaune arrive with people and he is elated to see them. He is elated to see them and asks what happened with the others. Yang sums up and then Oscar asks what happened to Qrow, Clover, and Robyn.

Cut to the jailbirds and Qrow saying how he wants to murder Ironwood. The Councilmen are tossed in while they extract Watts.

The Hound Scene gets changed somewhat, as we see it attacking Oscar in the middle of the Crater, bringing people to harm against the Hound. This furthers the reason why they couldn’t just shoot the Grimm, since the Hound threatens the lives of the refuges in the Crater. We end our episode there.

Strings

So, here’s where I think we’re going to make the big changes and axe a subplot. While the premise of Penny being hacked and her aura resisting it is good, I feel like, of the subplots that need to be cut, this would be the one. We can dedicate more of this time to her conflict with being the Protector of Mantle and now being the Winter Maiden, in other words being the Protector of Atlas.

Meanwhile, Nora, Ruby, and Blake all have their doubts. Ruby and Nora are obvious, but Blake has trouble deciding if she made the right call in returning to RWBY. Weiss, in a Tsundere way, brings up how she is a very integral part of the team. Blake then brings up how, if it weren’t for her, then they wouldn’t have had a hard time getting to Atlas, blaming herself for both their rejection at Argus and how Adam ruined their plans in the hijacking.

Weiss, however, wants none of that. While this was Ruby’s plan, Weiss takes charge of the operation due to Ruby being emotionally compromised. She gets a taste of being a leader in this episode, one she had wanted in Volume 1.

During this, Ironwood discusses matters with Watts, where they talk about the possibility of hacking Penny. For this rewrite, I think keeping the ‘Watts is working with Ironwood’ angle, complete with Ironwood having guns pointed to him, would benefit Ironwood’s arc and show how low he’s going. Not just working with one of Salem’s thugs, but also holding them at gun point. Ironwood justifies it by saying that this is Watts’s ‘punishment’ for the crimes he’s done. Watts, however, plays it by ear and waits for the opportune time for a backstab. That and he wants to stick it to Pietro.

The rest of the episode plays out like normal, but we get that ‘made a deal with the darkness’ scene as Watts is dragged back to his cell, Harriet has a hissy fit, and Robyn is like ‘you’re looking for someone to blame’. As the Ace Ops and Guards leave, Watts brings Qrow’s ‘we kill the man who put us here’ idea back to him and says he’s interested in his offer.

Fault

We open right where we leave off, as Watts reveals that he’s only getting close enough to Ironwood to acquire the right tools to escape. He then proceeds to dangle the carrot in front of Qrow.

“We’ve all been screwed over by Ironwood in one form or another. He disrupted your business, abandoned your town, betrayed your Headmaster.” The last part gets to Qrow and he lashes out. “We all want him dead, so… are you in or are you out?”

“Preposterous!” Jacques, to Robyn’s surprise, beat her to the punch. “Let’s not forget that you’ve done your fair share of screwing. Believe me, I had my experience. I know better than to trust you.”

“You’ve trusted Ironwood, right? And look where it got you. All of you.” That comment hangs in the air.

“We wanted Ironwood out for some time, but not like this! Are you mad?” Sleet asked. Robyn is visibly horrified at what Watts is suggesting and is the next to speak up.

“Jacques has a point for once in his life. Why should we trust you when you’re the reason Mantle is in this mess in the first place?” Then Qrow raises his hand.

“I want to hear him out.” Qrow said.

“What? What do you mean? You realize he works with-”

“I know! But remember who we’re dealing with. This prison… It’s not like the kind of prisons I’ve seen, especially in Atlas. No other people but us, only the top of Ironwood’s army are allowed to check in, and I’m pretty sure the guards aren’t allowed to give you that shiner. No… This isn’t our holding cell. It’s an execution cell, and we’re just waiting for Ironwood to drop the axe.”

We end on that implication as we see the episode play out like normal. While I like to have Ren bring up Pyrrha, I think the “cheated into Beacon” thing is big enough and we’ll need to unravel that bundle of worms. Instead of the “yeah, Ruby” scene, we could have Yang ask Jaune what he meant and Jaune reveals his fake transcripts. He also reveals that, for a time, he blamed Pyrrha’s death on his inexperience and that he knew about Pyrrha using her Semblance on his shield some time later. Yang, however, isn’t really in a position to pat Jaune’s back.

Meanwhile, the group crash at Whitley’s mansion, but Weiss doesn’t immediately point a sword at him. She’s tempted to as Whitley complains about having to harbour criminals without an explanation as to what’s going on, but then she notices that… he’s afraid. She then remembers Willow’s words to her and calmly goes “If you’re willing, I’ll explain everything. Please. Just help her.”

And we end on the Grimm River.

Amity

This episode is mostly the same, but with two exceptions. One, Ironwood does not, in any way, try to interfere with the broadcast. This had been the thing he was working on the whole time and, albeit without the Ironwood could no longer be trusted bit (which he looks solemnly away to), is pretty much what he wanted. And two, Watts ‘fakes’ hacking Penny.

He later reveals to his coup that there’s no way to hack Penny, bringing up how they had her schematics back in Volume 3 but were unable to activate the virus for her. What he really did was force a reboot and lied out of his ass about how it was a failed attempt. He then reveals the broken phone and offers the escape plan one last time.

Midnight

Here we are. One of the biggest episodes in Volume 8. The big backstory reveal for Cinder…

And we’re instead going to make it about Hazel, so instead, it’s going to be…

Gingerbread

We open with twins, lost in the woods. The elder reassures the younger that everything will be fine. They were abandoned by their parents to line their bellies and forced to fend for themselves. There, they come across a house that looked like it was made of gingerbread, with eagled eyed viewers being able to spot a young Cinder being carted off.

A blind woman greets the kids and brings them into the house. We know the schtick here, though instead of fattening the kids up to be eaten, she toughens them up to be sold to wealthy people who use them as child labourers. Gretchen finds out about this but she gets captured and is about to be killed to be silenced. Hazel, in a fury, ends up awakening his Semblance and, using a Dust Crystal, sets the house ablaze as they escape.

A montage plays out of them surviving however they can, even joining some bandits and raiding towns. However, during one such raid, they’re stopped by a young Qrow and have them be brought to Ozpin, which plays out similarly to how Ruby got inducted into Beacon.

We cut to Oscar chatting with Ozpin about Salem’s plan and how it seemed to be working before getting the idea to do the same to her. As Hazel walks in and gets upset that Ozpin casually says hello, Ozpin asks: “Why? Why do you follow Salem?”

“You know why. Did you tell him the full story?”

We cut back to another montage where we see that Hazel and Gretchen are part of the same team and they were the best years of their life. Unfortunately, they go on a mission to Mountain Glenn where it just so happens to be the time a mad scientist was fucking around there. They try to stop the Grimm from overrunning it, but it seems hopeless. Hazel, as the team leader, pulls the team back. However, Ozpin gives them the order to not run away and to hold the line. Gretchen follows this to a T and sacrifices herself in vain.

This devastates Hazel and causes him to drop out of Beacon, bearing a grudge against Ozpin. Not only that, but it paints some parallels between Hazel, Qrow, and Jaune, as all of them had friends they lost to the orders of a Headmaster who they despised. Qrow teeters in the middle (he talks big about killing Ironwood but hasn’t committed to it yet) between Jaune (who accepted Pyrrha’s choice and lets go of his hatred) and Hazel (“OZPIIIIIN!”). It also presents a dark parallel to the current story, since Atlas and Mantle are currently undergoing a similar siege, but it’s Ruby who insists on holding the line.

Ozpin admits that this was just one of his many mistakes, but asks again why he decided to work with Salem because of it, when she was the one behind the Grimm. Hazel then answers the obvious:

“I tried to kill her.”

We then get to see Hazel beat her senseless in a flashback, only to reform from dust and taunt him. Eventually, he gave up as Salem comforts him before revealing that Ozpin has sacrificed people like him for one huge lie (as she does this, Sacrifice plays). He then swears his allegiance to her if it means there’d be no more Gretchens.

Ozpin cuts the flashback by retorting that she’s planning to bring-

Salem comes in. The show’s about to start.

Cut to Weiss as she enters Whitley’s room. She notices that he just finished calling someone and suspects he’s ratting out on them. Whitely denies this and calls Weiss out for being overtly protective. Weiss counters by saying that she grew up in a hostile home and can’t really trust any Schnee but her sister, which she begins to doubt.

Whitley brings up that she barely had it as bad as he did and talks of his turmoil of living with the parents alone while Winter was at Atlas and Weiss was at Beacon. Between his mother’s drunken rambles and his father’s angry rants, he barely had time to live his own life. He just lets Weiss have it for ditching him before he breaks down and realizes that, no, he’s just jealous because she got to be free while he was still stuck in the cage. Weiss remembers when she was grounded and stripped of her title and realizes “oh… shit.”

Then the doorbell rings and, surprise, it’s Klein. Whitely explains that they need a doctor for Nora and without Jacques, he figured to invite the person he fired just to further spite his ass. He and Weiss begin to rekindle an old flame that they never ignited.

Back with Salem, the scene plays out like normal, but when we see Cinder get tortured, we see flashes of Cinder having a shock collar, hinting to her big backstory event. Then Salem has a small speech.

“It would appear that we have been brought forth into the light as monsters and villains. So, why not play that part and show them why dear old Ozma had to keep me a secret for so long… It’s time.”

Suddenly, Beringels fly out of Monstra and Zerg Rush the shields while the Grimm River activates and rushes forth, destroying the hut that RJY were at and almost killing them. Jaune sends out a distress call with his scroll as they try to avoid getting washed away in the water. They see that it’s heading to Mantle and that the plan by Salem is a two-prong attack to further force the division between Mantle and Atlas by putting them both in peril.

During this, Ren tries desperately to activate his Semblance, but just couldn’t. He panics, he worries, he sees Grimm emerge from the River to try and kill them and he just can’t make his Semblance work. He asks why now of all times must this happen. He closes his eyes and tries to think… Then sees petals on himself. Before he has any time to figure out what happened, they see a plane arrive and blast the River, stopping it in its tracks. Just before Jaune is about to thank their savior, they see that it’s Winter and the Ace-Ops…

War

The Beringels break through the shields and invade, destroying much of Atlas and overrunning the city, killing people on-screen. The rest of the scenes play out, however, when we cut to RWB, we see Weiss is trying to restrain Ruby from running out there, saying that she could be arrested or killed and Ruby responds with wanting to do the right thing. May interjects and asks why they bother saving Atlas when all they do is laugh at the misfortune of others. She’s basically the “Let Atlas Fall” part of the fanbase.

And this is where RWB give their counter arguments.

Weiss says how, even though the elite are snobby twits, Atlas is not exclusive to just them. May and her were just born with silver spoons in their mouths but that doesn’t excuse them from leaving everyone else on Atlas to die, bringing up how the Mantleans they saved were also on Atlas.

Blake brings up that, yes, Atlas has done bad things in the past, but so did every Kingdom at one point or another, bringing up Mantle’s role in the Great War, so to say that Atlas deserves to burn is to basically say Mantle deserves to burn.

Ruby then uses her “there are no sides” bit, but also blurts out that the whole situation was her fault and that she’s at the very least trying to fix it. And that starts by heading straight to the Whale and beating Salem herself.

The whale scene plays out the same, as does RJY’s scene right up until they plan to blow up the Whale. Yang and Jaune argue against it while Ren vouches for Atlas, saying how this may be the only chance they have at beating Salem, proposing to Winter to go ahead into the whale to scout it. This leads to the argument about replacing Oscar which pisses Ren something fierce as he finally drops the Pyrrha bomb on their ass.

“You say that like we haven’t lost a team mate before!” Boom. In a flash of light, Ren could see clearly. While muted colors were around him, he can see the petals around everyone. Jaune has blue petals, Yang has red petals, and Harriet has burning crimson petals. He could hear what each petal represents. He hears crying when he sees blue, he hears screaming when he sees red, when looking at Winter, he hears a bunch of different things as he sees multi-colored petals.

He sees that most of the Ace Ops don’t have a consistent feeling. Not even Vine and Elm, who he can’t help but see himself and Nora in their places. Then he looks to his own petals. Pure white as he hears exhaling: calmness. He’s reached a zen state, making peace with what he had felt in Volume 7: A desire to stop Salem and prevent what happened to him and Nora from happening to other people.

Hopefully that gives a slightly better explanation at what his Semblance does without directly telling the audience. However, he doesn’t use this to basically read the script and tell the audience what people feel because, reading the dialogue, it just feels forced. “You’re going to be a good guy because I have magic petal seeing powers!” Instead, he plays therapist.

“I understand why you think people are replaceable. I guess it comes with the territory of being in the army.” “If you can’t even gauge what your partner is feeling, you can’t work as a full team.” “What did you hope to accomplish when you joined the Ace Ops?” “Who are you trying to prove yourself to?”

I feel like that’s a lot more in character for Ren. As for Winter, she doesn’t go “I outrank you” but rather appeals to Harriet’s blood thirsty nature by saying that they’re basically sentencing them to a trial by Grimm, even tricking Harriet into agreeing that, should they survive and free Oscar, that they’d be let go, kinda playing into how she’s the Hare.

Back at the manor, Weiss gets ready to accompany Ruby. Willow approaches her and they have a small chat about what to do now that Jacques is arrested. Willow brings up that Jacques was promptly fired from the SDC due to his treason and, as a result, his previous rulings are called into question, including stripping Weiss of her title. She lowkey implies that Weiss should return and become the proper heiress to the SDC once more, even resisting the lure of the bottle to prove that they can make it right.

Weiss, however, looks to Ruby and Blake getting ready, then says to her “thanks, but… I think I’d rather be a team player than a team leader.” The two have a small, proper mother-daughter bond before BOOM!

It’s Penny, and she says that she’s sorry.

And that’ll wrap up this half of the rewrite. There are a lot of unaltered or even minor altered stuff, I know, but the front half of Volume 8 was alright to say the least. I think the back half of Volume 8 will be where major changes for this rewrite will happen. So, tune in for part 2.

[charcubed]

Frank Hudson, Greta, Margaret, & Mary

(PSA: If you’ve been tagged in this post, it’s because I’m crediting you or linking to a meta you wrote! I particularly linked a lot of things at the end I think could be tangentially related. No pressure to read all of this!)

Please allow me to take you on a journey in which I present a theory:

Mary is Frank Hudson’s daughter from a relationship with another woman, and part of her motivation (as a villain, as Moriarty’s agent/possible successor) is to get revenge on Sherlock for having killed her father all those years ago and ruining the drug cartel empire.

I was calling this a crack theory, but uh, given that I’ve now written thousands of words connecting weird dots, I’m gonna say maybe this is potentially not as far-fetched as I initially thought.

Before Sherlock series 4 came out, we were given this delightful niche little “clue” in a Youtube video on the official channel:

It’s always struck me as odd that this was specifically shown in a video advertising / leading up to series 4... when it seemingly never connected to anything. Why this, of all things?

Let’s review what we know about Mr. Frank Hudson.

• He was sentenced to death in Florida; Sherlock ensured his execution. (ASiP)

• He was executed for double murder and the execution was via lethal injection. He was arrested for “blowing someone’s head off.” (TSoT)

• According to Mrs. Hudson, about their relationship: “It was just a whirlwind thing for us. I knew it wouldn’t work, but I just got sort of swept along. And then we moved to Florida. We had a fantastic time, but of course I didn’t know what he was up to” and “It was purely physical between me and Frank. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.” What Frank was “up to” included a drug cartel and “all the other women.” (TSoT)

• Mrs. Hudson was a typist in Frank’s drug cartel (and an exotic dancer, which is in YouTube videos in-universe). This is also the scene where she’s present to hear enough to figure out that Mary shot Sherlock; in the original script, it’s made obvious that she was eavesdropping even after walking out. (HLV)

• We’re also given repeated reminders in TLD that Mrs. Hudson was/is somewhat of a badass. She tells Sherlock “you’re not my first smackhead, Sherlock Holmes,” and whether or not any of that (the revolver, the kidnapping of Sherlock, the car) is actually literally real, I take it mostly as a blatant reminder that Mrs. Hudson has a past filled with “not good” people.

A lot of this info is given in more comedic moments... but I think because it is repeatedly mentioned with consistent detail, especially largely in season 3 when Mary arrives (partially to mirror John/Mary’s doomed relationship), it shouldn’t be swept aside.

Speaking of Mary, let’s get into it. 

In ACD’s The Sign of Four, Mary Morstan’s story centers heavily around the loss of her father. That’s also the story that involves the Agra treasure, and Mary notably receives 6 pearls in the mail as part of the mystery. Keep all of this in mind because it’s going to be relevant as we go.

First, let’s roll all the way back to The Abominable Bride.

(All transcripts I will be quoting are from the inimitable Ariane DeVere.)

Giles, & Morse Hudson

The abominable bride herself–who I trust we all know mirrors Mary at this point lol–stands on the balcony and aims her guns at people on the street while saying “You?” / “You, or me?” One of the people she aims at is this man, who is listed in the credits as Giles. I always found it odd that he was named, so I decided to look him up in relation to Sherlock Holmes.

“Giles” connects to Giles Conover, the criminal in the 1944 Sherlock Holmes movie The Pearl of Death. That movie is loosely based on ACD’s The Adventure of the Six Napoleans. In the movie, Giles (who is not in the ACD story) stole the Borgia Pearl and hid it in a bust of Napoleon. In case there’s any doubt, we can know for a fact that Moffat and Gatiss are familiar with this movie because they referenced it in TGG previously; the Golem assassin is a nod to The Creeper.

So I was like, why that movie specifically? What’s significant, and how would that connect to the bride?

And as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now... they later referenced that movie again in TST. The writers called back to both the ACD story and the 1944 movie, very specifically. 

Referenced movie details I noticed in TST include the following: Sherlock calls Lestrade “Giles.” The Borgia Pearl (movie phrasing, as opposed to “the black pearl of the Borgias”) is mentioned multiple times; we’ll go back to that. We are also pointedly told by Ajay that one of the members of AGRA was killed via a broken back, which is how a murder happens in the 1944 movie.

As for TST’s references to the original Napoleon story by ACD... there are many, but there’s one thing they pointedly didn’t reference (unless I missed it) that I find interesting: in the ACD story, 3 of the 6 busts were at the shop of a Morse Hudson. Beppo, the criminal in the story, worked at Morse Hudson’s shop to have access to the locations of those 3 busts. Even in The Six Thatchers version on John’s blog, Beppo is the criminal but Morse Hudson was not mentioned. 

So I thought... alright, Morse? What morse code have we seen in the show? Well, there’s UMQRA, from The Hounds of Baskerville.

I poked around and some genius anon on @inevitably-johnlocked​‘s blog once said that if you encode UMQRA with HOUND using a vigenere cypher, you get BAKED. Mary bakes her own bread, according to Sherlock’s deductions in TEH. The abominable bride, in the above scene, shoots at/into a bakery. 

Edit: @rosie_ww on Twitter aka @silverybees​ pointed me to this, from THoB:

SHERLOCK: You’ve been to see Mr Chatterjee again.

MRS HUDSON: Pardon? 

SHERLOCK: Sandwich shop. That’s a new dress, but there’s flour on the sleeve. You wouldn’t dress like that for baking.

(Friendly reminder that shortly thereafter we find out that Mr. Chatterjee has other women)

Does this morse code / BAKED business necessarily mean anything by itself? No, and of anything in this post, it’s the biggest stretch. But it’s still kind of wild, because let’s recap so far:

• We have Morse Hudson in The Adventure of the Six Napoleons, a story which is heavily referenced in TST

• TST heavily connects to Mary / AGRA (we’ll get to how specifically)

• TST also heavily connects to The Pearl of Death, which connects to TAB

• And not only that, but The Pearl of Death connects to the exact scene in TAB where the bride shoots @ Giles and the bread shop. The bread shop could connect to the UMQRA morse code in the show... meaning “Morse” (code, and therefore Hudson) could then connect to Mary.

Morse Hudson -> The Six Napoleons -> TST -> The Pearl of Death (“Giles” etc.) -> TAB (“Giles”) -> Mary, the bride

Oh what a tangled web we weave. That’s a Hudson to Mary.

But let’s keep going. Better stuff to come.

The Black Pearl of the Borgias In TST

Let’s play the game of following the trail of the Black Pearl. Shout out to @miadifferent​ and @impossibleleaf​, because their combo post here I came across was very helpful for showing me the best way to write this out to make it easily understandable. I will be quoting / paraphrasing them below!

The first time we hear about the Pearl, it’s from Mycroft, who connects it to Moriarty’s final activities:

MYCROFT: In the last year of his life, James Moriarty was involved with four political assassinations over 70 assorted robberies and terrorist attacks, including a chemical weapons factory in North Korea and had latterly shown some interest in tracking down the Black Pearl of the Borgias, which is still missing by the way, in case you feel like applying yourself to something practical.

We also learn that the Pearl is somehow connected to London.

HOPKINS: Interpol think, the case of the Borgia Pearl trail leads back to London, so..

So we have Moriarty -> Black Pearl -> London...

And next up, there’s Sherlock’s “fake” deduction about Greta Bengtsdotter (who has always very obviously made us all think about Mary.)

SHERLOCK: Your wife is a spy. That’s right. Her real name is Greta Bengtsdotter. Swedish by birth and probably the most dangerous spy in the world. She’s been operating deep undercover for the past four years now as your wife for one reason only: to get near the American embassy which is across the road from your flat. Tomorrow the U.S. president will be at the embassy as part of an official state visit. As the president greets members of staff, Greta Bengtsdotter, disguised as a twenty-two stone cleaner, will inject the president in the back of the neck with a dangerous new drug hidden inside a secret compartment insider her padded armpit. This drug will then render the president entirely susceptible to the will of their new master, none other than James Moriarty. Moriarty will then use the president as a pawn to destabilize the United Nations General Assembly which is due to vote on a nuclear non-proliferation treaty tipping the balance in favour of a first strike policy against Russia. This chain of events will then prove unstoppable thus precipitating World War 3.

The name “Greta” is derived from the name Margareta, which comes from the Greek word margarites. It means pearl. Further versions of this name are Margarita / Margaret / Maggie.

Thus, we add her in: Moriarty -> Greta -> Black Pearl -> London

So when Sherlock finds the AGRA stick in the busts of Margaret Thatcher, he says to Mary...

SHERLOCK: I was so convinced it was Moriarty, I couldn’t see what was right under my nose. I expected a pearl.

Sherlock expected to find a pearl (Greta / a spy), but instead he found AGRA/Mary’s identity. He actually found what he was looking for, but he just didn’t recognize it.

And it actually still makes sense:

Margaret Thatcher’s bust -> Black Pearl -> Greta (“pearl”, spy) -> Mary (spy) -> AGRA memory stick

That’s how it went in the plot. It’s a subconscious connection.

So what’s ACD have to say about all that then?

This is the point where I remind you...

In ACD’s The Sign of Four, Mary Morstan’s story centers heavily around the loss of her father. That’s also the story that involves the Agra treasure, and Mary notably receives 6 pearls in the mail as part of the mystery. 

So all of this does have connections back to ACD canon; who is surprised?

But what do we know about Mary’s past from the show’s canon in His Last Vow? Let’s look at some other reminders.

SHERLOCK: By your skill set, you are – or were – an intelligence agent. Your accent is currently English but I suspect you are not. You’re on the run from something; you’ve used your skills to disappear; Magnussen knows your secret, which is why you were going to kill him; and I assume you befriended Janine in order to get close to him.

+

MAGNUSSEN: All those wet jobs for the CIA. Ooh! She’s gone a bit... freelance now. Bad girl.

Mary’s not English; she could be Swedish, she could be American, but regardless–Sherlock deduced she’s a linguist in TEH. And either way, she’s worked for America.

Americans crop up a weird amount in BBC Sherlock (and ACD canon too really), and usually in negative contexts. I just want to highlight one American connection from The Abominable Bride, about Emilia Ricoletti:

SHERLOCK: So she decided to make her death count. She was already familiar with the secret societies of America and was able to draw on their methods of fear and intimidation to publicly – very publicly – confront Sir Eustace Carmichael with the sins of his past. 

HOOPER: He knew her out in the States. Promised her everything... marriage, position – and then he had his way with her and threw her over, left her abandoned and penniless.

Also, where was it that Mr. Hudson had his drug cartel? Oh yeah. Florida.

We’ll go back to that.

More Margarets In BBC Sherlock

So we’ve officially got one connection where Margaret relates to Mary. TST makes that pretty clear. 

Now, where else have we encountered the name Margaret in the show?

Three places (at least, that I’ve caught):

1. A Study In Pink.

The first victim of Jeff Hope the serial killer is Sir Jeffrey Patterson. He was having an affair with his personal assistant Helen, despite being married to his wife Margaret Patterson. 

It’s a well-known fact in this fandom that the victims in ASiP are considered mirrors for John Watson, highlighting things that would lead to his own unhappiness/death–possibly even by suicide. (TJLCE video)  So, let’s say Jeffrey Patterson is a mirror for John.

Helen the personal assistant (who says “I love you”) is, perhaps, a mirror for Sherlock. She’s wearing a deep purple shirt.

Does that connect Margaret Patterson, who insists her husband was happy, to Mary? 

MARGARET PATTERSON: My husband was a happy man who lived life to the full. He loved his family and his work – and that he should have taken his own life in this way is a mystery and a shock to all who knew him.

[looks at John’s unhappiness in HLV after a month of marriage, looks at series 4 theories about John faking his suicide / trying to commit suicide, laughs nervously]

Well. Moving on.

2. The Hounds of Baskerville.

Project HOUND was a CIA Classified / American project that Major Barrymore was involved in. The Major is apparently a fan of Margaret Thatcher, and the password to his laptop is Maggie. Sherlock types “Margare” then hesitantly backtracks and writes Maggie and it works. It’s worth noting that in the script it was drafted to just be Margaret.

3. The Sign of Three. 

MRS. HUDSON: My best friend, Margaret – she was my chief bridesmaid. We were going to be best friends forever, we always said that; but I hardly saw her after that. [...] She cried the whole day, saying, “Ooh, it’s the end of an era.” She was probably right, really. I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early?

So in BBC Sherlock, the name Margaret is connected to...

• The Margaret Thatcher busts in The Six Thatchers, which connects to Mary/AGRA/pearls/Greta the Swedish spy

• Margaret Patterson, the wife of a mirror for John who was the victim of murder that masqueraded as suicide. This Margaret insists that the John mirror was happy in their marriage, but the John mirror was having an affair with a Sherlock mirror

• Project HOUND, of the CIA. I find this exceedingly interesting because the name "Margaret” has connections to Moriarty/Mary, and this could mean it’s safe to guess that this case is/was connected to the wider Moriarty web. We see Sherlock hallucinate Moriarty when drugged by the fog, sure, but otherwise Moriarty’s handiwork supposedly isn’t involved in this case... but maybe it was indirectly, by Mary in the CIA. Just ruminating.

• Margaret was Mrs. Hudson’s best friend, who left the wedding early when Mrs. Hudson and Frank got married

Re: that last bullet point, here is what I am suggesting as a possibility: Margaret was one of Mr. Hudson’s “other women.” Margaret left the wedding early because she was sad about the marriage, obviously, but maybe she wasn’t in love with Mrs. H like we would naturally assume (per Sherlock leaving the wedding early because he loves John). Maybe Margaret was in love with Mr. Hudson.

Maybe Mary is the daughter of Margaret and Mr. Hudson, and (as previously stated) she’s motivated to get revenge on Sherlock for killing her father and ruining the drug cartel empire. Who knows what would’ve happened to her mother Margaret, in that case, too.

This is speculation, of course, yes. Yet [waves to all the ridiculous web of connections I’ve delved deeply into, and the Frank Hudson hangman] can you blame me?

But, maybe you’re wondering... why would I think she’s the daughter of a Hudson specifically, even aside from all this Margaret stuff? 

Well.

Hudsons In ACD Canon

Where is the name “Hudson” used in ACD canon, other than for Mrs. Hudson?

Three places (that I’ve caught; my ACD canon knowledge is limited):

• Morse Hudson in The Adventure of the Six Napoleons, as discussed above; not mentioned in BBC Sherlock canon for some reason, yet strongly tied to the story that inspired TST.

• A name drop of “Hudson” in The Adventure of the Five Orange Pips.

Quick run-down of some aspects of this case: the client, John Openshaw, asks Holmes for help because a series of mysterious letters seems to be connected with the recent suspicious deaths of his uncle Elias and his father Joseph. The letters included 5 orange pips, and KKK on the envelope. When his uncle received his letter, he burnt a bunch of secret personal papers. One paper survived; it’s on that paper that we see Hudson’s name, associated with the KKK, and otherwise oddly unrelated to the case.

Holmes moved the lamp, and we both bent over the sheet of paper, which showed by its ragged edge that it had indeed been torn from a book. It was headed, “March, 1869,” and beneath were the following enigmatical notices:

“4th. Hudson came. Same old platform.

“7th. Set the pips on McCauley, Paramore, and John Swain of St. Augustine.

“9th. McCauley cleared.

“10th. John Swain cleared.

“12th. Visited Paramore. All well.”

Here are other ~features of interest~ in this case to me: Openshaw’s uncle Elias was a planter in Florida for many years. Florida is mentioned by Holmes as a “notable” state where the KKK formed a branch; the others are Tennessee, Louisiana, the Carolinas, and Georgia (hello to Tbilisi, Georgia being in TST seemingly at random). It is also mentioned that the fear of someone or something is what drove Elias from America to England. There’s also a very random name drop of “Mary” in this story that doesn’t relate to the case, told as part of Openshaw’s story, in which I can only assume Mary was a maid?

OPENSHAW, QUOTING UNCLE ELIAS: “They may do what they like, but I’ll checkmate them still,’ said he with an oath. ‘Tell Mary that I shall want a fire in my room to-day, and send down to Fordham, the Horsham lawyer.’

The fact that the name Mary manages to be in this cracks me up.

The orange pips / secret societies in America / etc. all heavily tie into The Abominable Bride, and the women’s hoods were visually reminiscent of the KKK. Sir Eustace’s line in TAB of “Death” (when he receives the pips) is a direct quote from Elias in this story when he receives his pips–and a quote that Mary echoes in TST when she completes Vivian Norbury’s sentence in the aquarium.

VIVIAN NORBURY: I’m just like the merchant in the story. I thought I could outrun the inevitable. I’ve always been looking over my shoulder; always expecting to see the grim figure of...

MARY: Death.

So, in summary we have: a name drop of Hudson in a story that factors in Florida, Georgia, pips, secret societies, the KKK, and even a name drop of Mary.

• Hudson is the criminal in The Adventure of the Gloria Scott.

This case is the one Holmes credits as his first case, and it inspired his future profession. He’s telling Watson the story. It happened in his university days and centers on his friend Victor Trevor (TFP says hi, lmao). More specifically, it centers on Victor Trevor’s father. I won’t go into all the details, and the plot summary on Wikipedia is good if you’re curious, but–

A quick run-down of some ~features of interest~ in this case: Mr. Trevor the elder is being blackmailed by the criminal Hudson because of their old criminal past together with others. Hudson is threatening him with exposure / public shame, and Mr. Trevor is forced to employ him. Victor gets pissed about it and eventually upsets Hudson enough that Hudson leaves in a very “this isn’t over” kind of way. Later, Mr. Trevor dies from a stroke after receiving a letter that threatened him via a skip code. It is a skip code of specifically every third word, beginning with the first.

Full skip code message: "The supply of game for London is going steadily up. Head-keeper Hudson, we believe, has been now told to receive all orders for fly-paper and for preservation of your hen pheasant's life."

Decoded message: "The game is up. Hudson has told all. Fly for your life."

(It’s not a game anymore...)

Who do we have in show canon who recognizes a skip code on sight of specifically every third word, beginning with the first?

All together now: Mary.

(Bonus points for “Save John Watson” being the phrase Mary says in her creepy posthumous DVDs. Bonus points x2 for the fact that this text was sent by Magnussen, the “Napoleon of blackmail,” to Mary when he was supposedly trying to find Sherlock’s pressure point. But anyway!)

Another feature of interest about the Gloria Scott case: Holmes deduces that Mr. Trevor was once connected to someone with the initials J.A. whom he wanted to forget, guessing it was an old lover. Mr. Trevor momentarily faints in shock. Holmes guessed this based on an old arm tattoo that Mr. Trevor had tried to get rid of, where the initials are blurry. This later turns out to be wrong, because Mr. Trevor’s previous name was James Armitage–J.A.–when he was a criminal, and that is the reason behind the tattoo. (JA? AJ / Ajay? Much to think about)

The J.A. tattoo deduction was referenced in The Six Thatchers, when Sherlock deduces that the client had a Japanese girlfriend he is now indifferent about. 

SHERLOCK: You’ve got a Japanese tattoo in the crook of your elbow in the name ‘Akako.’ It’s obvious you’ve tried to have it removed.

KINGSLEY: But surely that means I wanna forget her, not that I’m indifferent.

SHERLOCK: If she’d really hurt your feelings, you would have had the word obliterated, but the first attempt wasn’t successful and you haven’t tried again, so it seems you can live with the slightly blurred memory of Akako, hence the indifference.

I’m bothering to highlight this in TST because after Sherlock explains it, the client remarks upon it being “simple”... and that’s when Sherlock immediately launches into his ~fake~ long-winded deduction about his wife being Greta the spy, as I already talked about above. Wild.

One last fascinating thing about the Gloria Scott: this case is referenced in 2 other ACD stories–The Sussex Vampire (John texting in TST), and The Musgrave Ritual (TFP). Gotta love that.

So, uh, what if Mrs. Hudson’s “case” (getting her husband executed) was one of Sherlock’s “firsts” that inspires him to become a consultive detective full-time? We’re told in ASiP that he ensured Frank Hudson’s execution “a few years back.” The inexactness of that year amount drives me bonkers, but I think it’s potentially plausible.

Short Coda: Ghost Stories...

In Mr. Trevor’s reply to Holmes’ (incorrect) J.A. tattoo deduction, he includes the following line:

“Of all ghosts, the ghosts of our old loves are the worst.”

Mark Gatiss talked a lot about ghost stories. In the Sherlock Chronicles book (which I own) teasing series 4, he said, “I can certainly give you one word. Ghosts...” and in this interview he said “There’s a conspiracy theory about everything and they’re almost the modern equivalent of ghost stories. And the great thing is, you can have all the tropes of a ghost story. . . There are lots of people in happy marriages who turn out to have terrible secrets or to have done some awful deed in the past that must be paid for in the present. In Doyle’s stories, those are the ghosts you need to worry about.”

And here are the lines we get from Holmes in The Abominable Bride about ghosts (that aren’t literal):

You may, however, rest assured there are no ghosts in this world... Save those we make for ourselves.

+

We all have a past, Watson. Ghosts – they are the shadows that define our every sunny day. Sir Eustace knows he’s a marked man.

+

The avenging ghost – a legend to strike terror into the heart of any man with malicious intent; a spectre to stalk those unpunished brutes whose reckoning is long overdue.

While typing, I’ve now galaxy-brained my way to the realization that Mrs. H was canonically an “abominable bride” to Frank Hudson and literally murdered him (with Sherlock’s help), just like the women in the special. She’s also shown as one of the women ignored/disparaged in the special (”I’m your landlady, not a plot device”) but just isn’t shown in the crypt/society. So that’s, uh... interesting.

In (Semi-)Conclusion: A Summary

We have the following significant points at minimum: 

• A Frank Hudson clue in a series 4 video

• One reference where Mary is undeniably connected to a Hudson who was a criminal in ACD canon (skip code)

• One ACD Hudson who was heavily connected to The Six Napoleons story, aka The Six Thatchers

• One ACD Hudson name-dropped in a story that heavily connects to The Abominable Bride, and Florida

• A bizarre pile of evidence that all Margaret mentions in the show could relate back to Mary the ex-CIA spy, in some way or another

• A Margaret connected to Mrs. Hudson who could’ve been in love with Frank Hudson (in Florida)

• The overall theme of s4 being ghosts from past deeds and un(happy) marriages coming to haunt people. And lest we forget, “ghost” Mary literally haunts Sherlock and John after her “death.”

Does that cover it? I feel like that covers it.

Of course, I absolutely could be reading into a ton of things that are unrelated, but... Who is to say ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

Random Related Stuff

Not required reading, but while poking around, I’ve found other things that could or could not connect to the above theory. I’m just gonna... info dump it right here. It could all be meaningless, it could all connect, it could be unrelated! You decide! Lots of meta links involved below, so credit where credit is due.

• I knew I wasn’t the first to come up with this concept/possibility of Mary being a Hudson. While building this post, I ran a search and came across this old one by @the-7-percent-solution​, who posited there’s a letter game at play of AEIOU involving Mary’s monstrous regiment of various characters and connects Amo/Love to Mary. I love this concept, and while I do think there are other elements/aspects in play for the plot besides just this, that post still has pieces that can work nicely; doesn’t matter that it was written before TFP aired.

• Frequently thinking about how Sherlock said “Mrs. Hudson? Leave Baker Street? England would fall,” because what does Mrs. Hudson do in TLD? She leaves Baker Street.

• All of the above cursed elements haunt me. (Arwel’s Instagram post was April of this year.) Note: there’s another tweet Arwel jokingly posted of this photo years ago, but that tweet’s caption was connected to Brexit based on dates / my memory (i.e. “England has fallen”), so I’m not including it lol.

• In TFP, when Mrs. Hudson is vacuuming, she’s listening to Iron Maiden’s “The Number of the Beast.” The lyrics we get are “666, the Number of the Beast. Hell and fire was spawned to be released.” The other time 666 is mentioned was by Mary in TST, in reference to Rosie.

• Mrs. Hudson is in the center of the 221B promo pic for series 4, as noticed by @sherlocks-salty-blog​.

• This cursed pic of Mary’s "ring from her past” on top of a series 4, episode 3 script (??) that Amanda took has haunted me since she tweeted it. Mary wears this ring on-screen in TEH, and you can see it when Sherlock deduces her.

• The Gabrielle Ashdown passport (in TST) is from America.

• Janine (who many of us notice is likely involved with Mary / Moriarty of course) often wears pearls, as @sherlockmeta​ noticed. Mary also wears pearl earrings in series 4 promo shots but never in s4 episodes (that I can find/remember). I also always think that Mary and Mrs. Hudson are dressed very similarly in s4 promo images (see all promos here).

• @raggedyblue​ discussed how Sherlock’s window deduction in TLD sounds a lot like Mrs. Hudson’s kitchen in 221A, and how a sheet of paper being pinned/folded is an opposite element in ACD’s The Sign of Four. The re-folded paper was a map leading to the AGRA treasure, and Mary found it in her father’s desk. Brilliant catch. Of course, in the show, the paper says Miss Me which is also heavily connected to Mary.

• The mystery of the little girls with blond and braided hair, as compiled by @ebaeschnbliah​, is also going to haunt me. I suggest reading the post, but minor summary: during s4 setlock, there was filming with Ben and Mark at Ogmore Castle with a little girl "wearing a skirt or dress, and her hair was blonde and in pigtails,” and she was running circles around Sherlock. There are two separate reports from people who saw this and mentioned it had to do with Mary; at first glance it bears similarities to Eurus scenes we got in TFP, but seems different in description. This also brings to mind the little girl with blonde braided hair in TEH at the bonfire, who notably wears a bright red jacket just like Mary. And there’s also a doll with blond braided pigtails in Magnussen’s mind palace.

• @gosherlocked​ has posts about “The Children of Sherlock” (part 1)(part 2) that highlight how children are frequently victims in this show. Metaphorically, I find this interesting if Mary plays a role of a “wronged child” avenging her father, regardless of age.

• Let’s talk music in TLD–or at least, one piece of it. When Mrs. Hudson drops the teacup, Mozart’s “Andante From Piano Concerto #21” plays. That specific second movement was used in the 1967 Swedish film Elvira Madigan. Sweden, of course, immediately reminded me of Greta the spy (aka Mary) being Swedish. After I realized this info, I ran a search to see if anyone else had mentioned this movie and I found this post, where @tjlcisthenewsexy​ and @possiblyimbiassed​ discussed how it’s a story of 2 doomed lovers who die via suicide-by-revolver. This is significant because Sherlock drops a revolver to catch the tea; death replaced by (gay) love?

• Speaking of Sweden: in The Game Is Now, Sherlock is abroad in Sweden. This is mentioned more than once: first, in this audio message between Sherlock and Mycroft (“Sweden sends its regards.” “It does?” “No, not really.”). This audio message also includes “This is not an international game of sardines.” Fish reference? Aquarium?

The second Sweden mention is visually, in this video. See below. (Also, in both, the characters say “real people,” which I can’t help but feel is a fourth wall break of them being fictional?) 

I hate this Sweden stuff specifically. Thank you.

This post is so much longer than I expected it would be, thank you for reading all of this if you did, Johnlock is real, Mary is a villain, etc.

Come yell at me on Twitter @CharCubed! 

Also, I made a secret sideblog @frankhudson​ to just reblog meta or info I might want to be able to find later lmao. Feel free to poke around if you want.

[zykaben]

a81 liveblog part 3

Dan being all sarcastic and snarky??? Sign me the FUCK up

Melody!!!! I know I can expect her now but every time I hear her voice I am excited!!!! Boy howdy I hope that she’s still alive

sdfjbjsdfb oh jesse is GREAT. Man was born in the stairwell and gets groceries for people, I love him. The fact that he knows the Weird Shit people buy is good. Every purple object on the east side of the area??? lmao

Cup of water from the Hudson mixed with his tears?? That’s some magic ritual shit, I’m calling it now

TITTY CALCULATORS IM SCREAMING DJKYGJSDFHBJSFDHB

Melody it’s not that weird that he doesn’t stay to watch them, man’s got shit to do!!

Okay I know that this is the second time that the 8th floor has been mentioned as having to do with Gang Stuff and is to be avoided but... hm. I won’t be surprised if that really is all it is but I am doubting that.

The song?????? Oh????? Is there gonna be like, a music motif that persists throughout the season? Oh god I hope there is that would be so fucking cool

Okay so like. The Historical Preservation Society is a cult, right. Like, there’s not way they’re not a cult, right???

OH???? AN ASSIGNMENT???? INCH RESTING...

LMAO DAN HAS WIZENED THE FUCK UP. HE KNOWS WHAT GENRE HE’S IN, GOOD FOR HIM

okay wait who’s the “dude that can vanish,” I can’t figure out who Dan is referring to here, rip

“That would be breaking contract, Dan” “I realize that”—idk why but I really really love the fact that Dan has no problems with just walking out. Like, he has no attachments to this weird, creepy place, he doesn’t feel the need to know what’s up. He is in a position where he could leave without having his whole life ruined and it sounds like he’ll jump ship if he isn’t assured. Good for him

is Davenport about to go “ah, it’s that good ol’ mental illness” stuff oH MY GOD HE IS HE IS

FUCK YOU DAVENPORT!!!!!!!!!!!

“Seems like you got a bit of a crush”—Davenport I can and will kill you with my own two hands, you do not deserve the air you breathe you absolute wretch of a man

I am a simple person, I hear Davenport being a piece of shit and I go feral

oH IS JESSE A SPY NOW???? NICE

is jacob leading a fucking bookclub or some shit??????? what???? also this absolutely half-assed clapping is a mood

“could have used less salt”—jacob shut the fuck up you were given free food. i am rescinding my earlier fondness of Jacob somewhat

I’m going to get these organization names mixed up so goddamn much, I can already tell

I am waiting for shit to hit the fan. Please say shit hits the fan

“Possible... solutions!”—I don’t trust that

“the proposal was voted down because it was a terrible proposal”—damn Jacob, tell us how you really feel

Jacob: Oh yeah, Samuel explained everything about Visser, no I won’t summarize for you, fuck you, audience

Hello Samuel

I do not trust that man. He has spoken less than 10 words but something about his tone... also what Melody said about him in the first episode. That was something of a fucking tip-off

Okay Samuel is gonna actually give us some goddamn history, bless

“We can feel it, its presence. We can feel it, can’t we?”—uM. INTERESTING IMPLICATIONS THERE, SAMUEL

Okay yeah this is absolutely a fucking cult, this is such a goddamn cult, I knew it

“A story about stories”—I Am Looking

huh this... sounds fake? Like, I don’t think oH. OH.

“Of course, this story isn’t true, but the facts don’t really matter, it’s the story we tell ourselves.”—god they’re not even TRYING to pretend they’re not a cult now huh

Samuel’s speech is really good. Like, he’s obviously Not Good and his metaphor for how he sees the world is creepy as hell, but like. He’s charismatic and the way he speaks gets you into it. Really well done

“A song”—YESYESYES MUSIC MOTIF OH IM VIBING REALLY HARD

Oh god oh fuck did he find out Jesse please no

nO NOT JESSE I LOVE JESSE

DAN’S HEAVY BREATHING AND SOFT DAMMIT

FUCK I LOVE JESSE I HOPE HE’S OKAY BUT I KNOW HE’S NOT

Overall impressions: Cult shit is afoot!! Dan knows something is up!!!! Oh I am really excited to see where this goes

[blackasmidnightcats]

QfG Rants and Remakes part 5

Big thanks to both @agathasarmy and @yarasquad for sharing their ideas with me and believing that I could actually make a coherent rant without being too swallowed up by my emotions and hopefully I'll be able to do the same here.

P.S. Imma change the title of the next Rants and Remakes cause it's definitely not focusing on QfG anymore and it's gonna focus of AWWP so yeah...there's that to look forward too.

Chaddick & Yara + Tagatha interlude

Note: This post was originally gonna be titled "Chaddick & Yara + Mourning the Departed" and would have turned out as how it is explained below but as I was writing about Chaddick I realized that I needed to talk about something concerning Tagatha and realized that this post would have been too long for all three so I gonna move the "Mourning of Departed" in its own post. Hope you guys understand. Tagatha has a strong pull with me.

Imma actually gonna outline this cause I need to organize my thoughts and at least with this I could remember the direction that I would be heading.

First part's definitely going to talk about how Chaddick and Yara's death is bs

Then imma explain why them staying alive would have impacted the TCY storyline a lot more meaningfully (p.s. this is where the Tagatha interlude will be found)

And last (and this has been moved to its own post so stay tuned for it), I would also like to nitpick Soman's obvious lack of thought when it comes to the characters that have departed (mainly Callis and Lady Lesso and August Sader) and how it should have affected the characters (mainly Sophie and Agatha)

How Chaddick and Yara could have helped the storyline better

WARNING: I realized while writing this that I kinda made Chaddick and Yara more flawed than they are writen because I have to think about their character growth and they can't have that without having any flaws. So expect some more drama with these two than needed as I share my thoughts on how their characters could have went. They get better in the end believe me.

So I think that everyone in the fandom is one with the idea that Chaddick's death was one of the MOST worst decisions that Soman made.

As @agathasarmy said it once, Chaddick's death is more frustrating than sad because of how out of nowhere it is.

Via @agathasarmy:

but… Chaddick??? dying??? IN THE BEGINNING OF THE SERIES????

IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE, AND THE ONLY WAY IT MAKE SENSE IS COS SOMAN OBVIOUSLY DID IT TO INTRODUCE RHIAN AND THATS THE SHITTIEST THING ABOUT IT

HE REDUCED CHADDICK’S DEATH AS A PLOT DOOR WITHOUT PROPERLY SUBSTANTIATING CHADDICK’S CHARACTER FIRST SO INSTEAD OF US TRULY MOURNING HIS LIFE WE’RE JUST LEFT WITH THIS HOLLOW FEELING OF WHAT HE COULD’VE BEEN AS AN INTEGRAL CHARACTER TO THE PLOT

THIS

Chaddick's death felt hollow because it was a PLOT DEVICE. It didn't (or at least Soman didn't) conscider Chaddick much of a character but a means and once this happens some deaths can be very very hollow.

Like his POV chapter was very hard to read all because especially once you find out that he's dead by the end of it (SHAME SOMAN, SHAME) because his story and plot had so much potential. We weren't able to properly feel sad about his lost because we didn't get to know him better.

It just feels tragic. So much potential lost, all because Soman wanted Tedros to feel vulnerable because he lost his close friend.

WHICH SOMAN DIDN'T REALLY NEED TO DO

I explained already why this is bull and I'm gonna explain later what could have happened for Chaddick's character.

But in summary on why Soman didn't need to do it: EXPECTATIONS

Chaddick and Tedros would have been stressed out with all the expectations and comparison with Arthur and Lancelot. One wrong move could have broke them apart easily.

But Soman could have also not wanted to deal with Chaddick against his Sophie obssession so there could be that too.

SHAME SOMAN

Now, Yara.

Our little Soft Girl

She should not have died.

She really shouldn't have

W h y ?

Because her being alive would have impacted the story more than her death ever did. Just like Chaddick.

And if the problem was what she could have affected in the storyline in TLEA, then she could have been on the sides like. . . as Tristan from time to time or something.

Her being alive would have not affected or change TLEA at all. Like if more important characters like the Coven and the League can fade into the background then so could she.

But I really don't imagine her being in the school for New Evil with Aric as Dean. No, maybe Yuba could have hidden her with the League and she could have accompanied Princess Uma when they were getting Tedros and Agatha and then accompanied the Leuge or something.

Really it would have been that simple. C'mon.

Plus Kiko has been reduced to wreck after that. At least, with Yara being alive she could have fixed herself a bit more.

Okay

So in summary again: CHADDICK AND YARA SHOULD NOT HAVE DIED AND SHAME ON SOMAN FOR KILLING THEM OFF

Now, let's get to the juicier part, what could these two have contributed to the TCY storyline.

On Chaddick

It's pretty obvious what Chaddick's role should have been. He should have been important to the plot because his role would have been about breaking the comparison between the Past and the Present (see Soman, it could have been integrated into your canon plot) between him, Tedros, and Agatha to Lancelot, Arthur, and Gwen.

I'm pretty sure that Camelot has its eyes on these three.

It's pretty freaking convenient that they all have a predecessor to be compared to. And I'm pretty sure that it's not just Camelot who notices the pattern. I mean the whole freaking Woods read about this affair.

So Chaddick, along with Tedros and Agatha, should have been the ones that break this chain. It could have symbolized that Camelot was entering into a new, better era after a similar relationship broke it.

Like, a King, his beloved Queen and his most trusted Knight brought hope but ended in a Tragedy.

Now, another King, his beloved Queen and his most trusted Knight are skeptically judged for having the same pattern and they instead bring the Glory that first trio didn't

With Tedros, Agatha, and Chaddick united with each other bringing Camelot out of its traumatic experience with Tedros's parents, Camelot finally accepting that these three are not the same as Arthur, Gwen, and Lance and fully supporting them DESPITE the fear, would have been a much stronger message of that 'the past doesn't always repeat itself.'

Because with Rhian being known and most propably remembered as Tedros's most trusted Knight and betraying him in the end, it's like a copy of what Lance technically did to Arthur.

It just further proved that Camelot's King would always be betrayed by the ones they trust most.

Sadly for Arthur, he was betrayed by both Gwen and Lance and they left him alone.

While Tedros still has Agatha but without Chaddick the lesson simply is not learned.

Chaddick was integral to this formula because Camelot would have had to face yet another propable tragedy for their beloved King in the hands of the people he loves. With Tedros, Agatha, and Chaddick, complete, proving that they could do better despite having just a strong a bond as what Arthur and co had and Camelot accepting and trsuting this, the previous wounds would be replaced with new Hope.

Because even if that whole affair happened and ruined the Kingdom, at least they have proof that it's not always gonna happen that way.

And that's why Rhian being remembered as Tedros's Knight hurts this idea. Cause he betrayed him too.

Anyway, hopefully I made my point with this legacy thing.

Plus Chaddick and Arthur's Round Table training him. WHY SOMAN WHY?!?!?!

And now, imma explain what I think should have happened with Chaddick and how his character development and his role should have played out.

Because Chaddick is a pretty well rounded character, his POV chapter proves that he's brave, and is willing to die for his friends and what's right, and there isn't really much flaws to him aside from that he can sometimes make the most worst decisions despite being pretty wise.

I honestly cannot tell if he is stupid sometimes or Soman just does this to him cause PLOT.

Fandom I need help with this. Give me some opinions.

Like. . . he's wise enough to know what was right, examples being warning Tedros about Sophie and the first to listen to Agatha in AWWP, but also dumb or ignorant enough to bully Agatha in Book 1 and that VERY IMPORTANT THING ABOUT completely ABUSING Tedros is AWWP.

Like I'm kinda confused with him.

Well maybe we can say that he's a bit ignorant and maybe was raised with privilege so that's why he bullied Agatha in Book 1 and kinda wisened up in Book 2 about her.

But I am not excusing his attitude towards Tedros in AWWP because that was messed up. Well, AWWP was messed up so there is that but if we have to acknowledge that mess and have some closure then I vote for it to come from Chaddick and Yara.

Like maybe the reason why Chaddick is more wise now is because of that very experience. Maybe he could still be a bit guilty about it and that kinda messes with his mind cause he still thinks that Tedros is still the same boy those years ago in their second year and Rhian uses this to his advantage.

Actually, thinking about it this makes so much sense.

Like instead of AGATHA having the trust issues (thought I wouldn't completely vanish it, just not at the same level as she does in canon) it's CHADDICK that has them. Cause he's always kinda gets haunted by what happened in AWWP.

I mean Tedros replaced him with ARIC of all people when he failed to retrieve Agatha. There has to be some animosity between them since. I can imagine that Chaddick kinda felt like him and Tedros could never be as close as when they were during their first year. And he would totally understand it if Tedros never really forgave him for what happened and was at peace with it even if he didn't have enough guts to find a closure for it. He'd respect his friend first and foremost.

But then comes Tedros, all fine and inviting him to be his Knight like that would mess Chaddick up.

He propably couldn't believe it at first and maybe even kindly refused the offer at first but then he sees the heart break in Tedros's face and Chaddick realizes that Tedros really wanted this.

Tedros still sees Chaddick as his closest friend despite what happened in AWWP. And maybe after some thinking, Chaddick realizes that he still wants to have the bond with Tedros like what they had in Book 1. So he accepts.

But of course, they've changed and Chaddick still gets eaten by guilt because I think that he's the kind of person that knows that he did something wrong and wants to repent for it.

So instead of that wise friend that Tedros had in Book 1, Chaddick can't trust his judgement about Tedros because he's scared he'd go too far. So he kinda just agrees to Tedros's ideas and doesn't really give advice. Tedros kinda notices this and tries to talk to Chaddick about it but Chaddick would be all formal to him. Tedros, I don't really know, would think that it would be for his sake with the comparison with Arthur and Lance and all. So he kinda just goes along with it.

It's messy right now guys, I know, I'm kinda butchering Chaddick's character here but I promise it gets better and in my mind he'd be like this for only Book 4. He'd be Wise Chaddick again right after. Just give me a chance to explain.

So they have this kind of miscommunication thing that Canon Tagatha had in QfG instead and that would have made so much more sense and here's why;

Warning: this is officially where the Tagatha interlude starts so if you wanna skip it (why though???) find the sign that states it's the end. It's gonna be in pink too.

The fact that Tagatha was having a miscommunication failure was kinda off with me because 1) they've been over this in AWWP and TLEA. In TLEA Tedros has absolutely no problem with pushing Agatha to share more when she wouldn't and 2) he could easily read her like a book, especially when it counts. Like he could get her favorite food wrong but he always seemed to know what Agatha was having trouble with and was there to help her out and is not afraid to call her out on it (i.e. the Cinderella thing, he was on point there)

Imma provide some examples of Tedros totally getting Agatha when it counts;

AND THIS

AND THIS TOO

WAIT THERE IS MORE (The Tagatha Moment)

AND LET US NOT FORGET

THIS IS WHY TLEA TAGATHA WILL ALWAYS BE BEST TAGATHA.

I get that Agatha's insecure about herself and maybe she was kinda influenced with the Excalibur thing (but I highly doubt it though) but it's no reason for her to get to the conclusion she did at the end of QfG.

I mean girl, you were always thinking that Tedros would be a Great King in TLEA and that's why you've been so insecure about yourself. WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT???

Someone call me out on this PLEASE. I'm hurting myself by judging her too hard.

I can imagine that she would be sceptical with Tedros's ideas and kinda doubting him about it (you guys have no idea how much it hurts typing this) but I can also imagine that she would never doubt that Tedros's heart is in the right place even if she thinks that the way he gets there isn't always the best.

Like we have literal proof that Tedros gets Agatha almost like Sophie does and the best thing is that I'm sure that Tedros would think of the best in mind.

The mess in QfG makes no sense because they should be over this miscommunication bs and it should not have been a thing.

And if it was because of the stress with Excalibur and his responsibilities as King that made Tedros suddenly not get Agatha then WTF Soman!?!?!? I did not ask for this. They were literally about to die in TLEA and yet they could still joke and tease each other and have these cute little scenes with the other.

Instead I got Rhian's b*tch ass being Tedros's therapists when he knows sh*t about this boy and Agatha doubting Tedros like he did something horrible. (Well he did for trusting Rhian but i digress)

I could have had more of these cute Tagatha scenes instead. Like, is it too much to ask for these two to just show their love for each other in other ways than "I will save you" and "You're the best thing ever and I don't want to lose you for this horrible thing that I did or say" like give me small softer moments anytime.

Tedros gently teasing Agatha when she's being difficult and Agatha being totally trying not to show that she's smitten over it.

Agatha trying to be romantic at the most outrageous moments and Tedros being like "?????" but totally finding it cute.

Other character just not getting these two when they do and they are just as confused.

These are the kind of scenes I wanted from them. And if I have to use Chaddick to get it then so be it. (I'm sorry about this, I'm mostly projecting at this point and these really affecting my personal opinions on this matter but I'll try to tone it down a bit so that it's still coherent)

Note: this is the official end of the Tagatha interlude but i'm not keeping any promises that it'll be the last

Anyways, Chaddick and Tedros, they have more reasons with having communication problems because;

They have not been together for a very long time and they've both propably changed since

AWWP. So far, the two of them have had horrible experiences as the last thing that they remember about each other.

As I explained, I headcanon that Chaddick has a somewhat formed a sort of PSTD with it and is very scared that he's gonna mess it up.

I'm not even going to try to explain the PSTD thing cause I feel like I'm not gonna do it justice but I hope you get what I mean.

Chaddick must have become more unsure of himself after AWWP and he must still be trying to fit this new Tedros with the old one that he used to hang out with in Book 1. It would have been a good comparison to show that Tedros has indeed change and grown since then.

Like Chaddick kinda feels like he needs to intervene when Tedros shares a very outrageous suggestion but doesn't know how and kinda ends up in a mess.

Basically imagine Tagatha's problems in QfG and apply to Tedros and Chaddick instead.

And Chaddick would have been suspiscious about Rhian from the beginning. He's a smart savy guy afterall.

So Rhian kinda exploits this and gets the two boys against each other. Because say that Tedros and Chaddick have this big fight propably like the one when Agatha comments that Tedros was being a horrible king but Chaddick's the one that said it instead. Say that this happens around the middle of the Book and it's the final straw between them because they haven't been properly communicating and all the pressure on them. Rhian could easily worm his way to Tedros's side and replace Chaddick nicely. Cause unlile Chaddick, Rhian would make Tedros believe that HE'S the one that believes in him the most.

So they kinda fall apart and Chaddick and Tedros are trying to understand where it all went wrong.

Agatha would try to understand each side and get them to better terms again but she can't do it alone plus a-hole Rhian is butting in.

I imagine that, for me, the logical person that Chaddick might approach on his dilema with Tedros might be Ravan.

Cause the two of them basically think the same way and are usually calm and wise. The only difference would be that Chaddick's more active while Ravan's more passive and choses to observe before making a move. So he calms Chaddick down when he's being too impatient.

Chaddick and Agatha would be talking of course. And I don't know why but I imagine that they're more numb to all the gossip about the three of them especially around each other because they're both sort of level headed and wise then when they're with Tedros individually.

And I imagine this is where the Tagatha drama happens. Only after Rhian cause I wanna be clear that without him, Tagatha would have been fine. He also tries to break them up by saying that Agatha sides with Chaddick and that she doesn't have much faith in Tedros too.

Agatha's going to deny this of course (because it's all bs from Rhian) but Tedros has been too stressed and vulnerable that he sorta starts to believe it and Agatha gets frustrated that Tedros is choosing to believe Rhian when she's known him longer and after everything that they've been through.

But Tedros isn't fully under Rhian's spell. I would have put several times when they would doubt each other especially when Rhian talks crap about Agatha and Chaddick and it would be beserk button for Tedros so Rhian doesn't really go there.

Now Chaddick would be having his little personal battle with himself and Ravan and Agatha would be there to support him and give some advice.

The real kicker would have been when Rhian is adored by Camelot as Tedros's Treasured Knight, someone better than Lancelot and Chaddick kinda has a heartbreaking moment because HE'S supposed to be the one that was known as Tedros's Treasured Knight not this stranger. Not this stranger that stole everything from him especially his best friend.

Agatha hears about this and reflects the time when she gave up her own position as Tedros's queen in TLEA and remembers that Tedros knows her and all her monsters and has been the light to help her fight them.

So she and Chaddick have this talk and she tries to concinve him that Tedros wouldn't want for Chaddick to just give up on him like that. Chaddick thinks about it but is still not completely convinced but Agatha reminds him that Tedros CHOOSE HIM to be his Knight and Liege and they both have to fight for it.

It's Ravan who finally manages to get Chaddick to gear when he asks Chaddick if he's going to regret anything he should choose to either regret letting Tedros go and not fighting for their friendship or make a complete idiot of himself but fight for their friendship instead.

So Chaddick does the latter but everything is too late and the Rhian thing happens as I explained in the first Rants and Remakes post and Chaddick gets tossed into jail with Tedros.

It's in book 5 that I imagine their relationship actually starts to heal itself and they both try to get through everything. I haven't thought of all the kinks out yet but I imagine a lot of fights and Chaddick just kinda shouting what he thinks before he startsvthe regret it and Tedros being this physic and just getting Chaddick too like how he does Agatha.

Again, I haven't thought of everything yet but I'll share it when I do

Now let's move on to Yara

On Yara

Yara would have been more influencial alive then dead and I already explained why how she could have been handled in TLEA cause where I really see exploiting her is in the storyline of TCY.

With the Balance vs Chaos in mind as well as the Lady of the Lake villainess plotline, Yara could have been the answer to this.

She'd be a living reminder of everything that all the characters went through in AWWP and how horribly toxic it is to everyone. Especially those like Yara who lives in the between.

Like with the Lady plotline she would have promoted ultimate purity for both Good and Evil and doesn't believe that each side could be able to understand each other so she thinks that she's promoting Balance that way and that letting each side corrupt the other is Chaos.

She would have believed that Yara is an abomination to the Balance because she is the embodiment of the idea that you can choose some charcteristic from two sides and still be yourself.

Plus with Yara alive the other characters would be forced to rethink their ideals and how to approach this new possibility and reflect on the old ways that have been hurting the ones that are similar to her.

I imagine that Yara's gonna have an internal struggle with this like she's still trying to understand it herself and as she tries to understand it the more that the other characters do as well.

I haven't actually thought out her actual detailed storyline just yet and even though I wanna say more I know that I might butcher her character as I go on but I definitely know her importance to the possible story.

As I explained before, if in TSY was Good VS Evil and that the TCY was about Good AND Evil and how both sides need each other to grow and develop and that the importance of the School still teaching Good and Evil in its most purest form is so that they'd all have a guideline to go by but the curriculum has become more flexible with their beliefs OF Good and Evil and that every student just have shades of grey but choses to go by these either of the two and can still be a Hero or a Villain then Yara could have been the right person to show that it doesn't matter if your not completely on one side and was given the characteristics of the other, it matters what values you choose to follow despite it and how tou choose to use it to help everyone else for the better.

Cause it's canon already that it doesn't matter what they are, it's what they do that counts.

NGL I'm not completely satisfied with how I explained Chaddick and Yara I feel like I didn't do them justice here and I will definitely get back to this when I have organized and fleshed out my thoughts on them

Anyways, if you guys would like to add your own thoughts to this post pls do.

[thenovelartist]

Disruptor Designer and her Model, day 6

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6. Working Together

“How did we come to this idea?” Marinette asked, looking at a wickedly smirking Adrien.

“Because you said so yourself,” Adrien returned, not taking his eyes off the road as he drove. “You could walk into any designer brand store and walk out looking like a fashion disaster.”

“Yes,” Marinette agreed. “Some three weeks ago.”

If she thought about it long enough, she would realize that that meant she’d been dating Adrien for just over two weeks. Which… well, it floored her. She could care less about dating a model, particularly since she knew horror stories about models and dealing with them. But Adrien was so genuinely sweet and humble that she felt like she just scored in the boyfriend department.

And the fact he didn’t look half bad didn’t hurt, either.

“But it’s a really funny idea,” Adrien said, grin splitting his face.

“We could get kicked out,” she said. “I’m kinda on your dad’s hitlist. I know I’m on several other’s since the party, particularly of one Audrey Bourgeois.”

Adrien cringed. “Yeah, that article on you… not your most flattering.”

She snorted a laugh. “She called me an egotistical, arrogant, petty bitch. Nice to know that ends up in the ‘not flattering’ category instead of the ‘articles written to ruin you’ catrgory.”

He was slow to respond, his mouth open as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I mean,” he said, fingers drumming the steering wheel, “hopefully none of your followers believed it.”

“Maybe a few,” she said. “But I didn’t recognize a hit in my numbers or anything.”

“I think your response to that article was what sealed it in for you,” Adrien said. “You didn’t respond in anger.”

“Oh, trust me, I was plenty angry,” she said. “But you have to learn to let things go.”

Adrien glanced over before reaching a hand over the console to grab hers. “I’m proud of you,” he said, giving it a squeeze.

Marinette had been handling situations like that long before Adrien came into her life again, but still, hearing him say that filled her with a warmth and security that she did the right thing. “Thank you, Adrien.”

And then those warm feelings faded when he parked in front of a Gabriel brand store.

“Your dad is going to kill us.”

“Yeah, but it will be fun while it lasts. Now come on, let’s go.”

…

“You’re sure we can film in here?” Marinette asked.

“Well,” Adrien returned with a grin. “I am the son of the owner. I do have rank here.”

Marinette sighed again while she pulled out her camera. “Your dad is going to kill us.”

Adrien smirked. “My dad will kill me for guest starring in one of your videos. Trust me, I’m in deep trouble no matter how you look at it.”

“Then why am I agreeing to this?”

“Because I’m twenty-four and my father can’t really ground me. So come on, let’s do this.”

This time, Marinette finally raised the camera, ready to start filming. “Hey everyone, Ladybug here. Now, as you can see I’m here with a rather special guest today, M Adrien Agreste!”

He gave a smile and a wave.

“Now, today, we’re gonna do something a little bit different than the usual. Actually, we’re gonna do the direct opposite. Today we are in Gabriel’s, which… Adrien, I’m pretty sure your face is all over the store, modeling half these clothes and looking rather put together doing it.”

“That is kinda the point of modeling,” Adrien said. “To look as nice as possible. But it gets overrated after a while, don’t you think?”

Ladybug giggled. “Well, just what do you propose we do about that?”

“Well,” he said, a wicked smirk growing across his face. “I’m thinking it would be fun to see just how big of a fashion disaster one can become in such a high-fashion store.”

Ladybug turned a wild grin on him, and he had to fight to keep standing. “I think that’s a fantastic idea.” She turned back to the camera. “So Ladybug-gers, stick around as we try to make the worst fashion style we can with clothes right here from Gabriel’s, and at the end, vote in the comments about who you think wore it worse.”

She then turned back to Adrien. “You ready to go?”

He grinned. “My lady, I was born ready.”

She giggled. “May the best style win.”

…

Marinette was going to be forever banned from stepping foot into another high-end fashion store. But even though the whole day was ridiculous, as well as nerve-wracking because the manager nearly kicked the two of them out before Adrien stepped in and said that they had a right to be there, she had a blast.

Now, she was sitting in her office with Adrien at her side while she finished the last bit of pre-posting work. “Are you ready for this?” she asked. “Because once this goes up, it’s never coming down.”

He grinned. “I’m ready for any consequences I face. It will all have been worth it for the opportunity to work together with you.”

She blushed bright red before turning back to her computer and hitting the “upload” button. Hopefully, this video wouldn’t get him in trouble because she really hoped she’d get to work with him again.