#is straight charles in the room with us rn?

[sydhina]

and another thing im convinced straight! charles truthers have just never had a friend before. because i love my friends loads, but if i ever looked at one of them like that i would need someone to dump a bucket of cold water on me immediately

[thatonesongyouretryingtoremember]

DBD rewatch notes!

episode 1

Why was Charles making that face before offering Crystal to stay at the office?

Why are they not supposed to interact with the living? clearly Emma has no such qualms.

Crystal speaks up to make sure Edwin hears when she says thank you for taking her in

Why is David a surprising name for a demon? Why IS David called David, if it isn't a demon name?

HOW did I watch the show this many times without noticing the septum ring??

"The living are messy. If she had died last night, I'd have no issue with her being here." OKAY EDWIN. I guess this and the 'no living people' rule must have to do with the Infamous Puppy Debacle of '94. In this case, Edwin is not insulting Crystal specifically, but is being very literal that he would not be worried about taking care of a dead person.

I love how they NAME everything from cases to moves to incidents.

Charles teases Edwin for being jealous, but does he actually think that? Edwin is just overly cautious, and yeah that's causing an issue at the moment, but does he have, like, a record of being jealous of girls Charles likes?

Charles immediately tries to seperate Edwin and Crystal to stop them arguing, and Crystal is like "wait what??" like she's SO surprised. Also kinda love the not-subtle dig at Edwin's behavior. That does not go without retaliation ie: you weren't here when the mail came

WAIT they're going on a walk and taking, like Edwin and Monty. that's cute.

Did Crystal actually thin Edwin was in hero for being evil? I feel like that is surprising to hear regardless. Is it common for Charles to explain to people that his bf was only sent to hell on a technicality??

I think Crystal must have learned about hell from David, because if the ghosts she has met haven't moved on yet they have no way of knowing about hell.

The focus on people staring at Crystal is kinda weird. Does she even realize yet?

What did she used to feel like when people got mad at her for being mean?

What does Charles think about the way Crystal talks about her anger? He says it's cool that she is still alive, but does he admire her honesty too?

The up-and-down when she asks if that line used to work. He didn't even tell her what decade he died. Read him.

Aww she wanted to get Edwin some coffee to cheer him up. She even says hi to him as soon as she's inside. Crystal cares whether Edwin likes her or not. At the very least, she is trying to be nice to him.

How DOES the ghost post work? also the sheer incredulity of Crystal's voice lmao. Why exactly does the mail carrier sneak up on them? is he also dead?

Why does he care who the client is? they already know what the mystery is.

'keep your voice down!' bestie you already flirted at her, she knows.

'it's happening too quickly' Edwin doesn't wanna screw up his routine

good on Crystal for getting straight to business. Becky's ALIVE, boys!

Why do they think Death will come back to the office?

more people stare at Crystal. Dies she really not notice before the malt shop?

I can't help being reminded of that textpost about putting Crystal in the bag and going through a mirror.

Edwin thinks he is so clever with the agency name joke. He is so proud of that one. same thing with his journal of opinions joke. he's having so much fun rn.

I love that every time there's a Jenny scene the soundtrack changes to goth or rock music.

Why is the red LED neat diagram briefly orange and why is Edwin so fascinated by it?

She's scary for all of two seconds before becoming awkward and weird and mean. Jenny, ladies and etc!

Edwin is so menacing here FOR WHAT

Crystal gets the room as is, then never decorates it during the following weeks.

Can those ghosts teleport?? I noticed the dragons so it too, is it a shirt distance thing?? wtf?

pictures of guys, huh Charles? Is there anything else notable about the pictures?

Edwin jesus fuck lay off her. He is looking for just ANY excuse to talk shit.

Charles trying to help out Crystal is nice. I wonder why she doesn't like reading minds though? During the course of the series, she totally volunteers to read minds and it's a go-to solution for her. What happened to put her off it that she doesn't remember anymore?

What'd he do to get burned by the iron?

I guess after knowing ghosts for however long, none of them must have told Crystal about iron.

how does that alarm system via possession even work??

After that silence I kinda thought Edwin went to hell for possession when I first watched LMAO

Esther must have put the shoes in the woods as a distraction. I wonder if the boys would have ever found out if it weren't for Crystal.

they know cats talk and have human personalities and yet Charles sees one and is instantly like "aw fuck off man :((" bro chill

Why is the cat voice so. echoey?

what would happen if somebody tried to sit on the stools that the boys are already on?

Do we ever see anything like this door entrance in a mindscape scene after this? Does she ever walk around while in a trance again?

holy crap Edwin

I guess she takes a while to figure out it's her own brain. mecore.

of course there's an argument now. how could there not be?

then they never follow up on the "our demon" line

poor old Edwin has Charles taking such good care of him that he isn't used to the guy trying to take care of TWO peoples' feelings. Man I know that they don't talk about feelings in your time but at some point you've got to learn that everything you're saying is a fear reaction and not a moral stance.

I love the high contrast in this scene!

Simon's lil smile and Edwin walking away looks SO different with Context.

why tf is the sacrifice named "Mary Ann" and WHAT is Simon's brother into?

"don't do that!" and a breath of relief followed immediately by a jumpscare is SO GOOD. like I get scared by jumpscares but I love when they do it like this.

"It's not that bad" *hoovers the boy* *sells him to a demon*

THE TRANSITION. WITH THE SCREAMING

Why is the same cat here? is he following Edwin? W H Y

you're such a whore 🙄 (cat voice)

What if I offered you a sardine out of my gloves hand and bound you in a magical leash and you were a cat🥺 (and we were both boys)

The cat's mannerisms are pretty convincing IMO. my cat does the same ear thing when she wants me to leave her alone. And the tense shoulder/neck scrunch combo just adds to the effect.

I wish Edwin got to use more magic in the show.

not the apathetic eyebrow raise

me when I dump blood

I love this scene. Jenny is so awkward but also she remembers what Crystal says here. She remembers hearing about Crystal's ex like three times ever and ends up going after that boy with a cleaver. but it all starts with Jenny not knowing if she's allowed to show that she cares.

oh and her shield of cynicism

and the way she asks for more information!!

Charles with the questions! detective-ass.

it's interesting that Jenny and Charles both try to help Crystal while looking through a lens colored by trauma (specifically parental flavored) but Charles is so gentle while Jenny is abrasive.

Crystal! With the self-awareness!!

if you what? finish the sentence, Crystal.

Also she says "didn't you see that" like those pink lights were not symbolic they were real in-universe. Crystal and Niko were still acting hella gay tho. ofc, Crystal was under a spell and Niko is just Like That.

FAIR QUESTION

he doesn't answer whether or not it's weird. He also doesn't wait for an answer of if she'll tell Edwin. He trusts her.

Aww poor kidddsss

Edwin walks in and out of rooms like God sent him

Crystal with the self-awareness once agaiiiin 😎

TRANSITIONS

if she was in that relationship since three months ago and we don't know how long she was possessed for before Emma figured out how to find the boys, she may have already been missing for weeks at this point.

The way she is dressed and the way she's acting is risky different from the memories she gets from the marbles. Is this a real memory? Why would she dress like that, or hang out with those people?

Is the possession paralelled to any of this scary movies that was playing in the theater they go to? bc it looks really familiar.

Edwin is really focusing on the wrong details here, man. Also comparing a scared person to their abuser is not fuckin cool.

YAY! FEELINGS TALK!

I love the sound of his voice in this scene.

I mean I thought it was already clear that neither of them wanted David involved but if Edwin needs clarification that's fine ig

the description of Esther is line a spoken word poem

you know he doesn't get out much when he doesn't know about the internet

Jenny is iconic

absolutely ZERO emotional response to "Like kind of a sexy witch who smokes alot but in a cool way" like maybe they didn't hear Charles. maybe their minds were blocking it out because what the fuck /j

and her coat gets caught in the door and she can't drive. Perfect.

The fuckin twirl. Thank you costumes for cutting the vent stitch because the swooshy coat adds to the effect 🙏

Esther leaves the stove on when she's out of the house? does she want her bird to DIE!? It must be an accident because Edwin has to take it off :o either that, or she wasn't planning on leaving for too long, or knew there'd be someone to take care of it 👀

Also Edwin is EXACT in his reading if the floor plan. Like that is SPECIFIC

is that a sink cabinet? no basin??

an empty cabinet like that is sus anyways. who has that little stuff??

Edwin volunteers and Charles knows he's scared but makes sure he does it anyways. I wonder if there are any more examples of this behavior.

Monocrome; floor littered in bones and shoes. Edwin is 'weighed down'

it's not a void, there's a floor.

Wait Has Esther been planting shoes for the cops to find, then re-stealing them for her snake's nest??

Also how often does she kidnap forms because I feel like she'd either have to run out or get caught at some point.

"bag of tricks" they name EVERYTHING

technically they didn't break in

what did she THINK they wanted?

COLLECTOR

I've already said this but Esther loves things she *consumes*, so her love of birds is kinda bad news for Monty. He's just there to use in her plans.

Also the first time I watched this I thought Esther was trying to kiss Crystal. like that shot is. weird.

Why does Charles want the bird to be his friend and why is he not concerned about its living conditions

rope+ magic weight= OW

technically, since everyone else is only going off of Edwin's (and later Cat King's) word, they might think the snake is huge but realistic. do they know it's like fifty feet??

interesting that they show it takes multiple puffs of smoke to paralyze someone but later when she gets power from that rando ghost she does a whole ranged spell with the pipe because she is more powerful.

that is some weird and impractical snake jewelry on her hand.

MUSIC

appearance ONE of the BAT! he DOES NOT get to use it!

Edwin looks to be MORE bothered by the iron burn than Charles now that nobody is looking.

Do people normally get incapacitated when Crystal does her trick?? or is that special for this time?

I wonder what Crystal thinks watching this possession, since she just got possessed recently.

bag of worms?? not a thing

MONTY im tryna threaten some kids🥺

MUSIC

I guess the woods thing was believable bc she's a girl scout.

Also now that Becky's mind is wiped, she can't see the boys even though she has been close to the supernatural. I guess it would have worked on Jenny too if she chose that.

is now a good time to mention: I LOVE Crystal's weird-ass jacket. and she's wearing overalls again today, like in episode (six? I think?)

so now are they on David's case? I guess not lmao

The Night Nurse's hair is so funny to me. She is the only person who would ever think to wear victory rolls with a microfringe.

why are those photos so low-quality and why is the Afterlife Lost and Found a liminal '50s office building full of women?

[drivestraight]

so like yes this is the rpf meow meow site but specifically on tumblr the practice of just taking things and then using them to run any kind of narrative is just really really bad lately. like you have people straight up putting words into max’s mouth about how he hates carlos that he fully never said. or even being like “daniel is bitter he wasn’t in the team photos” and he was fully at the stewards. idk I think we need to just be calling these people out more bc you genuinely can’t be writing fiction and then acting like you are a news outlet and not getting any blowback lol

yea i think that’s the danger of it — like being a “big” account on here sometimes equates to ppl taking your word as gospel, esp like when ur too lazy (i dont say this in a bad way; often times i am too lazy to check the source material) to check — like this whole narrative of max/checo shading carlos in the cool down room is just straight up false? but ppl will say it with such confidence that to the casual onlooker its real, which i just… dont really like. delusion breeds delusion… like i get that most of us on tumblr have underlying ship motivations that warp things but i do think its important to at least try to separate that from your actual perception of race weekends, or at least not spread a simply false, but easily believable narrative. like spreading a rumor that charles pissed himself or that carlos spat on him is different than whatever’s going on rn

but whatever. im trying (and failing to a large extent) not to get bothered by it. and im sure im hypocritical and have spread false narratives in the past before but. yeah idk… its an epidemic lately

at the same time… im a big proponent of letting ppl have fun but im also anti bad media literacy/anti lack of reading comprehension so. idk

[onelovewonderwoman]

first class || charles xavier x reader

i’ve been on an x-men binge and fell into a hole of james mcavoy and charles xavier again, so here we are. i haven’t written fics in a long time, so i tried to again. i’m uncreative so like the title is just the first movie because of the fact that it’s set during that time. kind of like self insert cause there’s a few bits and pieces where there’s canonical plot and interactions, so disclaimer for that. anyways, hope you guys enjoy! ps also don’t have enough energy to find a fitting gif so maybe i’ll find one later maybe i won’t. we’ll see

words: 5.8k

warnings: not proofread (i spent three days on this so i don’t have the energy anymore haha), writing lacks emotional depth, drug use and mentions, intent of murder, thoughts of (murder, rape, suicide, etc.), poorly written two paragraphs about kissing, angst, we ignore moira and charles’ romance cause... duh, it’s x reader and it’s too difficult for me to work around it rn a haha

masterlist

The rooms were always the same. They were dark, illuminated only by the dimmest of lights emanating from the occasional lava lamp or fairy lights. Fairy - ironic word for such situations, such rooms. Filled so heavily with smoke it made it hard to breathe, let alone see. And the floors; the floors always felt different. 

In hindsight, it was probably the one thing that had her realizing the rooms were never actually the same. Sure, they had the same smell, the same overcrowdedness and moving bodies, the same darkness, even the same taste, but the floors testified to the difference each room held. 

Sometimes, when the world would freeze and all the people around her became nothing but a mesh of warm bodies, she could hear the floor creak under her feet with every step she took. There she was - the house right down the street from her. 

Other times, the floors felt sticky under her shoes. She assumed it was tequila. There were always too many bottles around to count, surely there would be spills. Or, some poor guy could have pissed himself like that one time. When her shoes sounded like velcro as she walked across the floor, she was at the house all the way across town.

In any case, she felt the same ankle up. One of her favourite parts had to be the way the music always abused her ears - so high, it made her feel lightheaded. More so than she already had been both. Sex was not nearly regular enough for her to compare, but she knew what she would feel every time the music was loud enough to make her head buzz and throb with a vengeance was more erotic than anything anyone could ever do to her.

The place could change but the scene never really did. Down to the people - she knew this for sure. She knew every beating heart around her like they were her own. She never only felt it there, but in her head as well. Even as it buzzed, she felt it. Sometimes it tore at her skull as if trying to escape - ironic.

Now, why did the scene change one evening in 1962? She told herself it was fate, but it had merely been wishful thinking when she knew why. How did she know? She knew the man sitting next to her on the worn down couch, nearly entirely unconscious and reeking of weed and vodka, knew the girl across the house, the girl across the house knew the man next to her and that - so on and so forth - meant she knew all three of them, even though they didn’t know her. So, for two new men to walk into the house, their eyes focused - focused on her - changed the scene entirely.

Now, the music became nothing more than an assault on her ears; the lights became too bright at the same time as the dark became too dark; the air became heavier than usual; and she sobered up at the feeling of something - someone - in her head. Then, it all caved in. It was as overwhelming as it always was, but she was used to it enough to handle it for a little while, at least whilst remnants of her high remained. She couldn’t say the same for the shorter of the two men she saw keel over at the pressure.

He got over it pretty quick, from what she could tell. “Charles Xavier,” he introduced himself as, “This is my colleague, Erik Lensherr.”

A quick trip from the couch to the door had her standing on the lawn of the house of the night with the two men. Crickets could be heard fighting against the sound of the music blaring from the house as she swayed on her feet, making wet sounds in the grass from earlier rain. Charles stood not much taller than her, charm emanating from him and the way his piercing blue eyes seemed to smile despite his furrowed brows and mouth set in a straight line as he stared at her, waiting for a response with his hands tucked into his coat pockets. Erik stood taller, stoic and calculating.

“And?” She crossed her arms across her chest, both in discomfort and the fact that the chilly night air had begun to bite at her skin, her long sleeve doing nothing to help. “I should care why?”

If the incident earlier wasn’t enough, the way the both of them looked at her was enough for her to know why. “What’s your name?” Charles asked, having her notice then the English accent on his tongue. 

The second she gave it to him, he smiled - almost sympathetically - at her and hummed, “You have an incredibly busy mind, Y/N.”

“And you have an incredibly nosy one, Charles.” That had Erik letting out a chuckle, one that felt like approval to her ears.

Never in a million years would she dare say yes to anything of the sort the two men proposed to her that night. A team of mutants; not necessarily that she thought it was absurd or a horrible idea - no. It made sense, not factoring in their current climate, to have a team of mutants fighting against the evils of the world. The horrible idea was to have her join. No, she wanted to tell them, “I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking too,” Erik agreed with her, catching both herself and Charles off guard, “We’ll be going then.”

He offered her his hand. She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at his outstretched arm. Sometimes her high slowed time - it could have been five seconds or five minutes. When she finally looked away from his hand, up at him, she saw he stood unwavered and patient.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Her eyes shot to Charles as he broke the silence. He shook his head, brows still furrowed and mouth set in a straight line. “You’re under no obligation.”

For Charles to know, she understood. He had just been in her mind long enough to know that most of it wasn’t even hers. For Erik to know and offer her his hand made her wonder just how desperate he was to assemble the team - for whatever reason that she was about to find out in a moment.

“We leave now.” Was all he said after he tore his hand from hers.

An hour hasn’t even passed when she found herself on a plane with the two men, mind still buzzing but this time not with a high. This time, with an overwhelming anger and anticipation. The way Erik didn’t make eye contact with her and Charles sent worried glances her way throughout their trip to their “base” was enough to tell her that they knew she had already been briefed on what was happening - the reason behind their assembling of a team. Rather, she knew specifically of the personal motive behind it.

All it made her heart feel like it was beating a mile a minute. It pounded against her chest so hard she was sure at least one of them could hear it. So badly did she want to hide out in the plane’s bathroom and take something to stop the pain, but it was off the table. For now.

Soon enough the flight ended, and she came to find out their “base” was a covert CIA facility where they placed the other mutants they rounded up before her. She just as quickly met and said goodbye to Moira MacTaggert, a CIA officer working with Charles and Erik to stop Shaw. His name alone sent sparks of rage flowing through her veins.

She was left with the group when the three went off that night. There, she came face to face with Raven, Sean, Alex, Hank, Darwin, and Angel - or, Mystique, Banshee, and Havok. Darwin and Angel were “self explanatory”, considering they were already nicknames and described their powers fairly well. Hank was just… Hank.

Her turn came around quickly, once everyone settled down from Alex’s show of his “gift”, when all heads turned to her, sitting at the end of the couch. Raven smiled at her - she liked her, she was sweet - “What about you? What’s your power?”

“I’m,” She paused for a moment, the eyes on her making her anxious and curl into herself hoping, praying, another mutant wouldn’t touch her. “I can move things. With my mind.” She gave a tight smile to Raven and nodded her head, as if to reassure herself. “I can move things with my mind.”

Raven’s smile only widened, excited by either the prospect of her being able to move things with her mind or the opportunity to give her an alias. She assumed it was the latter. She excused herself to the washroom just as Raven asked the group what they thought. “We’ll have one for you once you get back! Promise!” Raven called after her.

Body filled with anticipation, she nearly ran to the washroom, willing the door closed behind her after she entered. It was small, but clean - CIA property after all. 

She tried. She really did. Albeit, making contact with a mutant was always the worst; Erik especially. The trauma, the pain, the thoughts. All them clawed at her brain, as though they were tearing through it layer by layer until nothing but them remained within her skull.

Nothing could stop her from taking out the small baggy in her back pocket and tearing it open. Nothing could stop her from taking it, only to feel a rush flow through her. It would take a bit, but soon enough she would stop feeling them gnawing on her very existence. Soon, numbness would wash over her and she could just be no one.

She guessed she was in the washroom for about half an hour. Staring at her reflection, at the floor, at the ceiling, at anything, but when she made her way back to the room, she found it in disarray. Music was blasting from the radio, chairs flipped over, Raven on top of the couch dancing as Hank hung from the ceiling light, the rest of the group messing around with their powers. She couldn’t tell if they were experiencing some high of their own or just happened to have gotten their hands on some alcohol.

“What are you doing? Who destroyed the statue?” Moira’s voice broke her out of the trance she was in watching the group. Slowly, she turned her head to see her, Charles, and Erik walking over as everyone else froze. Moira was angry, that much anyone could tell, but the two men were unreadable.

Hank was the first one to reply back, jumping down the ceiling, panicked, “It was Alex.”

“No. Havok.” Raven seemed to stay unfazed, still standing on the couch with a wide smile on her face. “We have to call him Havok. That's his name now…”

Raven’s words melted away from her. Her focus wasn’t elsewhere; it was simply nowhere at all. She stared at everyone in the room, yet no one at all. So caught up in nothing she didn’t notice Charles himself staring at her until Erik uttered something under his breath and walked away with Moira following, brows furrowed in what looked to be confusion. Just as she caught his eye, he looked away.

Directed at Raven, he spoke firmly, “I expect more from you.”

Not long after, they had gotten word that Shaw would be in Russia, and so she was left with the group of mutants when the three left alongside the CIA to get their hands on him. Before, it would have made her wonder what purpose the group of mutants really served if they didn’t want them there to help. Now, after the incident, she understood why.

By no means were any of them prepared for such a task. She couldn’t claim to be either. She only agreed because she knew a part within her would hate her for not coming and at the very least trying to help.

Just when she thought she and the solemn group couldn’t be any more of a liability, she was proven wrong. Because now Sebastian Shaw stood in front of them, smug and irritating as ever, after having his lackey drop an unsuspecting CIA to his death in front of all of them and cornering them. 

“Good evening. My name's Sebastian Shaw, and I'm not here to hurt you.” She was sure she wasn’t the only one assuming he had taken out every single CIA operative in the facility to make it this far; a thought that filled her being with even more dread than she was already feeling at the sight of him. “My friends, there's a revolution coming. When mankind discovers who we are, what we can do, each of us will face a choice. Be enslaved or rise up to rule. Choose freely, but know that if you are not with us, then by definition, you are against us. So, you can stay and fight for the people who hate and fear you. Or you can join me, and love like kings and queens.”

They all watched, both shocked and betrayed when Angel took the hand Shaw outstretched, standing by his side even when he murdered Darwin in his attempt to stop him with Alex. She didn’t see it - she turned away the second Shaw released the energy he’d taken from Alex into Darwin. She heard it, though. The explosion. When she turned back, as Shaw, Angel, and the men he had brought with him retreated, she saw nothing. There was no sign of Darwin; not even a speck of dust.

Suddenly, her chest tightened and the clawing came back.

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

The person who happened to almost send them home also happened to be the one who provided them a new place to train their powers for the fight with Shaw. Charles was entirely serious and extremely close to sending them all home; “They’re just kids.” But Erik made it clear to him that they couldn’t be anymore, not after Shaw.

Charles lived, alongside Raven, in a massive mansion that had been entirely too big for her to take in, but it provided the perfect space for them to train their powers. Each of them were assigned rooms by Charles personally that day. 

He took the liberty of walking them each there. She didn’t know if it was just her or a Charles thing, but he stayed quiet. Unusual for a man that had so much to say. But then again, with what they’ve already been through, she couldn’t imagine he was feeling very chatty. She certainly wouldn’t have been in his situation. Granted, she would be feeling the same way now, but in her predicament by this point, she wouldn’t mind someone else’s verbal company.

The second he guided her through the bedroom

door, she began to take in the sheer size of the room, feeling bigger than life itself in the way that she was feeling. The bed was even better; huge and looked as though the softness of it would swallow her into a warm hug. Her first instinct would have been to jump right onto it, but the fact that Charles ceased to leave and instead remained planted there, giving her a look she couldn’t make out once she turned to face him, made her fight against her urges.

She opened her mouth in an attempt to utter an “Are you alright?” but never got the chance. Instead, Charles spoke as soon as her mouth opened, slowly, as if to make sure she understood every word he was saying like she had been incapable of doing so before, “Training starts tonight, but I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

With her brows furrowed in confusion, she nodded, and Charles began to walk away. He stopped by the frame of the door, back to her, and spoke again, “Try and get some rest.”

With that, he shut the door behind him. Now, she was left in the room alone, tiredness washing over her. Awaiting the next day, she decided to fall into the cloud that was the bed and fall asleep while she could.

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

The next morning was when Charles asked to see her - by Raven. The young woman led her over to a room, an odd dome shaped one, where Charles stood waiting. He wasn’t the same as the night before - uncomfortable, was the only way she knew to describe it - welcoming and encouraging.

“We’ve got plenty of work to do,” Charles spoke, hands in his pockets, as she entered and Raven excused herself elsewhere. Looking around, she could see evidence that training had started last night, namely Alex’s. Dark scuff marks were streaked across walls of the dome on the end farthest from them and small balls of fluff on the floor remained, assumingly left behind in the midst of a quick clean up of training dummies that had been torn open.

Despite the mess, several other objects were placed across the floor. All ranged from light to heavy. Chairs, weights - it looked to be anything he could have been capable of carrying in with the help of the others.

She stopped in front of him. “What’s this?”

The man’s smile widened before he started, rather loudly at that. “Well.” He moved towards the objects then spun around to face her, arms outstretched. “This is the beginning of your training.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking at the man unimpressed. “You want me to move this stuff around?”

“You’re not just moving stuff around.” Charles shook his head, arms dropping to his sides as he declared. “You don’t need to move everything here. I only need to see how much you can handle.” His head tilted as he looked at her, blue eyes meeting her own as his expression retreated to one of curiosity. “And how you handle it.”

She didn’t think the professor was aware of the innuendo within the situation, so she let it go despite the sweet stomach dropping feeling that came over her. Instead, she shrugged. “Then what?”

“Then,” Charles hesitated for a moment, “Erik was able to move a satellite dish. If it happens to be possible-”

“A satellite dish?” She laughed incredulously, “You can be serious.”

Charles nodded towards her, challenging her statements as he took a few steps forward. “And what is it that’s making you believe you’re incapable of doing anything similar?”

“Look.” She shook her head, looking directly at him when she said, “I can move the average household item, shut a door and maybe, just maybe, bust it down, but I couldn’t push your couch across the room, let alone move a fu- a satellite dish.”

Charles’ brows furrowed. “And that’s what you believe?”

She hummed. “That’s what I know.”

“Well,” he sighed, disappointment written across his face that sent her into a spiral, “There’s not much we can do if you don’t believe you can better yourself, is there?”

The second he walked past her was when it felt as though ice water had been spilt onto her. A mixture of confusion and gloom washed over her before she turned to see Charles’ back, still moving towards the door. “What?”

He stopped in his tracks at her exclamation, waiting several moments as if contemplating before he turned back to her. Carefully, he asked, “Why do you take them?”

She shook her head, looking almost offended. “How did you-”

“Your mind,” Charles confirmed, “It gets quieter.”

The offence on her face never ceased, but the uncomfortable mixture of feelings she was overwhelmed with had her shrug in response to his question. Charles only nodded and gave her a tight smile before turning back.

She closed her eyes, resigning herself with huff. She could go back to the life she had come to know and hate, or she could take the second chance he was giving her even if it did include the prospect of some suffering.

“I don’t take them for fun.” The sound of her voice made Charles stop again. This time, he waited. “When I touch a person I don’t just take every experience. I take every memory.”

He turned around to face her once more and gave her nod, signalling her to continue. She breathed in and out. “I see and I feel everything that’s happened to them. That’s a lot and it’s enough, but that’s not why I-”

She cut herself off, feeling herself choke on the words before shaking her head and persisting herself on despite Charles’ look of concern. “I take them because, when I take their memories, I take all of their thoughts too. Every one. So every thought of murder, or rape, or suicide, or any fucked up thing, keeps tearing me apart from the inside out.”

Charles nodded, walking closer to her, choosing his words carefully as he spoke, sympathy written deep in his soft voice, “And they scare you.”

She shook her head. Looking away from him for a moment, she willed away tears she felt gathering. She turned back to him. “The thought of acting on them scares me.”

Although slightly taken aback by the revelation, Charles holds his composure. He nodded before opening his mouth to respond, walking closer as he began.

The only reaction he got was her taking a step back, shaking her head. “I swear I’m not a bad person.” Charles assumed she didn’t want him touching her - considering she took away every thought. “I’m always all these people at once - I don’t even know who I am.”

“Then we will figure it out.” Charles tilted his head, making sure her eyes met his when she attempted to look away. His voice was soft and reassuring to her ears, even if she didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “You aren’t alone, Y/N.”

As it turns, the drugs were having a large effect on her ability to use her powers - the next few days told her as much. By no means was she capable of moving a satellite dish, but she had been able to take her powers to lengths she never thought she could have been able to.

Most of it was due to Charles - he’d spent most of the next few days with her, pushing her, sometimes to the point where she’d snap at him. She always calmed, though, and Charles always remained coolheaded.

Still, they grew closer. Or at least she grew closer to him. She couldn’t tell if the praise, the laughs, the banter, and the willingness to come back together after a fight only meant something to her. She hoped it did - because why else wouldn’t he just give up on her? All that time spent on advancing her powers to defeat Shaw, and he still talked about helping her as though their relationship would continue past this mission.

Part of her wanted to touch him so she could just know. Even if he hadn’t taken such a liking to her as she had him, at the very least try to understand him in his entirety and make a space for herself in his life. Then, another part of her was horrified at what she would find in there.

For the time being, there wasn’t much opportunity to dwell on it. The day they would head out was coming soon, and Erik suggested the group get a good night’s rest. They would all need it.

With her luck, she didn’t know why she thought that sleep would come easy that night. Whether it was due to adrenaline, anxiety, or anything else, didn’t matter. Because whatever was keeping her up had her pacing the hallways of Charles’ estate that night.

She wasn’t looking for it, but instead happened upon a conversation. 

“… no difference. Shaw’s declared war on mankind. On all of us. He has to be stopped.” She heard Charles’ voice through a door as she passed by. Although knowing that he could probably make out the sound of her mind from a mile away, she still stopped by it. She grew even more curious when she heard Erik’s voice. 

“I'm not gonna stop Shaw. I'm gonna kill him. Do you have it in you to allow that?” A moment of silence passed and she shifted on her feet. It made the floor creek. She shut her eyes and bit her lip, nervous, expecting to hear the sound of one of their footsteps coming to open the door and catch her eavesdropping. Whether they heard or not, she didn’t know as Erik continued on, “You've known all along why I was here, Charles. But things have changed. What started as a covert mission, tomorrow mankind will know that mutants exist. Shaw, us, they won't differentiate. They'll fear us. And that fear will turn to hatred.”

“Not if we stop a war,” Charles’ voice wavered on a line of urgency and assurance, “Not if we can prevent Shaw. Not if we risk our lives doing so.”

Charles very well could have been doing nothing but reassuring Erik with his words, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually trying to reassure himself. As if the world wouldn’t either discard or abuse them once they’ve served their purpose of their betterment. 

“Will they do the same for us?”

“We have it in us to be the better men.”

“We already are.” Erik’s voice quickly turned from calm to urgent when he next spoke. “We're the next stage of human evolution. You said it yourself!”

“No, no!” She heard Charles attempt to cut Erik off before he sighed. She could practically hear the disappointment in it, although she couldn’t say she felt the same. He only let Erik continue.

“Are you really so naive as to think that they won't battle their own extinction?” She heard him pause. “Or is it arrogance?”

“I’m sorry?” As if Charles had misheard him. 

She shifted on her feet once more as their voices became more hushed, despite the feeling coming from the room becoming more hostile than calm. This time, she was more careful. Nothing made a sound below her feet when she moved closer to the door, pressing her ear against it, as well as her left palm for support.

“After tomorrow, they're gonna turn us. But you're blind to it, because you believe they're all like Moira.” 

“And you believe they're all like Shaw.” Came Charles’ immediate response. Calmly, she heard him continue, “Listen to me very carefully my friend. Killing Shaw will not bring you peace.”

Erik’s voice never wavered when he told Charles, “Peace was never an option.”

Footsteps came far too fast for her to move away from the door. In a split second, she found herself leaning against the door to crashing into Erik’s chest when he pulled the door open. For a moment, Erik stood staring down at her, watching her attempt to recompose herself and attempt to apologize. She didn’t get a word out before he moved past her and walked away.

She watched his form retreat before she turned back to the room. Standing in the doorway, she saw Charles sitting in the chair facing away from her. With his eyes closed and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed, “You realize I can hear your mind from across this house?”

She took a step in, almost reluctantly. She didn’t imagine Charles would be content with anything she had to say, but maybe she could make him understand. “Erik’s right, you know.”

Her words had Charles’ eyes snap open. He got out the chair, setting down the drink he was nursing on the table next to him, before he turned to face her. “Excuse me?”

“Peace isn’t an option ‘cause we’re never gonna get peace.” She shook her head, desperation in both her voice and eyes as she stared into his. “Erik thinks they’re gonna turn on us. They might not, but it doesn���t mean any of us will get any peace. They won’t all be like Shaw, they won’t all be like Moira, but most of them - most of them will just be human. They’ll fear us and they’ll judge us. It doesn’t matter how harmless we are or not.”

She watched as Charles took a step forward, his head tilting to the side, expression unreadable as his voice remained calm. “You can’t be serious.” It was a statement - a wrong one.

“Shaw needs to die,” She spoke with assurance. She felt her eyes fill with tears, Charles watching her suck in a breath and release as he began to walk closer to her, before she spoke in a whisper, no longer trusting her voice, “Shaw needs to die for what he did to us. We’re going to kill him, Charles.”

They’re faces we’re merely inches apart, chilling her to the bone as he looked at her. What she thought he would never do is what he tried the second he began to raise his hand, speaking quickly to her when he asked, “Us?”

His hand almost cupped her cheek when she turned her head away from it. Immediately, his hand froze. Charles watched her profile as more tears welled up in her eyes and her lips began to tremble. Voice weak and tearful, staring away from him, she pleaded, “Please don’t confuse me. I can’t-”

“I know you feel it,” Charles’ other hand came up to guide her face back to him despite her, whispering carefully, “But it is not your cross to bear.”

His hand was warm against her cheek. Comforting - enough to make her mind go blank. Wishful thinking, of course, because soon the clawing in her head would come back with a vengeance at having a man such as Charles touch her. For now, though, he felt safe. Stable. Enough so that she could close her eyes for a moment and let the tears fall as he leaned down to her and let his forehead press against hers. 

“You can’t help but feel his pain,” She felt his breath against her lips as he spoke, his voice the same soft and soothing as she’s known it to be, “But you can decide what you do with it.”

She shook her head gently and pulled away, but still letting Charles’ hand rest against her cheek. “It’s not just-” she whispered to him, mouth feeling dry as her eyes avoided his, trying to piece her thoughts together. His hand slid down to the base of her neck, guiding her eyes to his. She licked her lips before she swallowed. “I barely knew Darwin, but he killed him right in front of us. And it was cruel and scary and I couldn’t even make myself look at it when it happened.”

“I know.” Charles brought his other hand up to brush away slow falling tears she hadn’t even known began to escape. He voiced nothing but concern, letting her continue as if he knew what she was going to say next. 

Her hands reached up to wrap around his wrists, not to pull his hands away from her, but to simply hold onto them. Almost as if they were an anchor to make up for the tears she now felt were falling faster down her face as she realized. “For the first time, I think I want something, I feel this anger and fear, because of my head. I saw it first and I felt it first. It’s mine, and now I have a real responsibility to take care of it.”

“Not with murder.” Her hands tightened around his wrists as he brought her face closer to his own. A frown on his face as he desperately told her, “I meant it when I told you that we would figure this out together. You told me you were never your own person, that you don’t even know yourself. We were - we are - going to bring you into existence. I beg you, Y/N, don’t let yourself be brought into this world as a murderer.”

His words, as beautiful as they were, only half registered within her brain. All she found herself focusing on then was how close he was. She would think back later and come to realize that it was because the only thing making her tears stop and giving her the will not to commit a murder was the prospect of approval she would get from a man like him. From someone who could never understand her struggle, someone who never tried to or tried to make her feel as though there was some way out. From someone who wanted to build on it and show her the strength she could find within it.

Realistically, she knew he would have a few words for her if she ever outwardly admitted to him that she used approval as a means for bettering herself, but it was the best she could do at the time being.

Charles’ brows furrowed as he watched her face, spaced out and regarding him with an expression not even he could read. Somewhere deep down, though, he knew he had gotten through to her. His lips curled up slightly, speaking lowly with amusement evident in his voice, “Now where did you go?”

Her eyes shot from his lips to his eyes once more. As quick as they made eye contact, she leaned forward to press her lips against his. Lips soft, she kissed him carefully, one hand moving to cup his face. Only in the last few moments did he respond to it by kissing back.

She pulled away, looking at him nervously and letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in. Her mouth was dry again. “I’m sorry-”

She was cut off by Charles’ lips on hers once more. She kissed back instantly, sighing into the kiss in content. Feeling Charles smirk against her lips and deepen the kiss, she put both hands behind his neck, pulling his body closer to hers. He took her lower lip between his teeth, pulling slightly as he let his hands trail down her body to her waist, pulling her to make sure there wasn’t the slightest gap between their bodies.

Their lips broke apart, but only long enough to allow for a quick breath. Charles pushed his lips back into hers as her hands snaked down to the collar of his dress shirt, playing carefully with the top button.

Eventually, their lips broke apart as they caught their breath. Bodies still pressed together, Charles leant forward to rest his forehead onto hers, her eyes still close, for a moment before pressing a kiss to it. He placed his chin on top of her head and rested there, her head resting against the crook of his neck as she felt him - anticipating what it would feel like to feel nothing but him. 

[thethirdwheel404]

Med Rewatch Series (#10)

S3 E10: Down By Law.

Episode Description: Dr. Manning sustains an injury while helping a drive-by victim and Dr. Rhodes finds himself in uncomfortable waters.

Connor being in ‘uncomfortable waters’? I can hear Ava bullying him already.

(also i wrote a little thing abt maggie giving ava a red bull so enjoy that little bit of content)

Let’s get into it.

-barry just yeeted natalie against a car holy shit that’s fucking hilarious

-will needs to chill the fuck out

-YESSSSS

-THIS WHERE CONNOR BRINGS THE WOMAN HE WENT OUT WITH UP FOR MEDICAL TREATMENT. AND THEN AVA HARASSES HIM FOR IT.

-this is one of the most iconic ava moments. (it’s first thing that pops up under the tumblr tag)

-ava overhearing connor not knowing his date’s last name. and ava walking over, already getting ready to make fun of him. barely concealing her smile

-the confidence with which she set down the file. she was too prepared and too excited

-this could just turn into a list of ava quotes

-”It must be hard, remembering all their names.”

“You know I read Derek Jeter used to send his conquests home with a gift basket. But a full cardio work up is... It’s much classier.”

-ava bekker secret baseball fan?

-Connor: “Jeter? You a baseball fan?”

Ava: “Oh, no. It’s much too boring. But I love gossip.”

-interesting. very, interesting... is it weird to anyone else to think about ava liking gossip?

-like the idea is fun and all but i hate the idea of ava being suuuper obsessed with gossip. it makes her seem way too shallow in my book. that being said, one of my hcs about women gossiping about all the shit men do to ava bc they know she’ll call them on it now has a lot more precedence

-i know she explicitly says that baseball is boring but i can’t get the idea of ava being a secret baseball fan out of my head. its just so novel

-HER SHIT EATING GRIN

- Connor: “Well, we will get you in and out of here as quickly as possible.”

Ava: “That’s what Dr. Rhodes is renowned for around here. Quick in and outs.”

Connor: *turns to her condescendingly*

Ava: *two finger salute* “I’m Dr. Bekker, by the way.”

-the lesbian icon jumped out

-also the fact that in the previous episode Ava’s mentor did the exact same salute. idk what it means but it’s not that important

-ava trying to hide her smile when asking the woman if she wanted them to contact her husband

-ava overhearing again when latham tells connor the woman he was with was doing cocaine

-ava smirking when connor says that he thinks the heart attack was from his sex and not the cocaine

-connor thinking he’s so good at sex he’s going to give this woman a heart attack

-he really drives All the ladies wild in EveryWay (sex, suicide. he’s the whole package)

-latham asking connor point blank “did you partake in the cocaine?”

-the ct team gives connor so. much. shit. it’s so funny

-also. ava just chillin at her desk looking at scans? that’s the kind of content i want to see. just her just being there. doing her own thing. that’s what i want

-THE GUY WITH A TEENAGE WIFE IS A REVEREND HOLY SHIT

-counting down the minutes til natalie drops dead (passes out but yk a girl can dream lol)

-sarah. back at it again with her rayon jacket and button up and backpack. the coffee cup only adds to the aesthetic

-connor being surprised that latham isn’t gonna let him do surgery on the women he fucked (twice, he might add)

- whatever you do, don’t think of a brown bear. are you thinking about it?

-maggie dealing red bull to people who need it. that’s a very soft idea

- ex:

Dr. Bekker is sitting at the desk in the ED. Well, sleeping, more like it. Her head is resting on her fist, her elbow precariously close to slipping off the the chair armrest, and her eyes open by just a hair.

“Dr. Bekker.”

Ava jolts awake.

“Maggie,” Ava says, strong accent cutting through, acknowledging the person standing over her. Hastily, she adjusts her jacket and scrubs, smoothing them back into place.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this tired.”

Ava shrugs, seamlessly slipping back into easy confidence.

“Rough couple of cases. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Uh huh,” Maggie says, unbelieving.

She sets a can of Red Bull on the desk with a knowing look.

“You need this more than anybody.”

Ava scoffs. “Those things? They are murder on your heart, come on.”

Maggie hums and walks away. Ava watches her leave, and when she’s out of sight, Ava darts forward, grabs the energy drink, immediately cracking it open and downing half of it.

- anyway.

- @punksarahreese that’s on you for making me believe ava loves energy drinks

- let’s continue

- sarah looking at charles telling her not to do something: I am not going to do a thing you said

- go off babe. it was the wrong decision but go off

- all the nurses watching this guy call nat a bitch:  👀 👀 👀 👀

- will being like: god that guy called you a bitch i fucking hate him

- and natalie being like: he is also refusing to let us treat the 14 yr olds cancer but you obviously have priorities

- sarah is so logical. she’s good at talking to people. can you FUCKING IMAGINE IF SHE HAD BETTER GUIDANCE (oh and less trauma)

- this is also the one with that hilarious screen cap of sarah holding a knife

- the way she is so calm about handing this patient a knife gives me anxiety

- THIS SCENE IS SO HARD TO WATCH IT SCARES ME SO MUCH

- sarah just in alone in a room with a man who keeps having visions of stabbing his wife. and her just handing him a fucking knife oh my god i have too much anxiety for this

- rewatching the series and getting completely confused bc norma is 5′7″ but she looks so short next to colin and the guy who plays latham

- AND RACHEL IS ALSO 5′ 7″ BUT THEY BOTH LOOK SO SHORT - WHY EVERYONE ON THIS SHOW SO TALL

- anyway. ignore that that’s not important

- I... the parallels btwn sarah offering this guy the ability to slit her throat (for therapy) and ava cutting her throat... i don’t know what to do with this information

- idk but sarah holding the knife got me feelin some type of way

- the way connor looks at ava with such contempt bc she... does her job (and his but yk) especially during the hug wtf dude honestly just stop looking at her

- this is also the episode where ava pawns off the patient’s hug onto connor. while yeah, it could ava just being annoying to connor by forcing him to hug his one night stand’s husband, but she did give connor due credit. (and something to be said about her being confused and a tad uncomfortable when the patient hugs her, which is why she pawns it off to rhodes)

- she also doesn’t hug the guy back, which is kind of funny, she never moves her arms and just shrugs out of it

- and like after the hug she takes a few steps away from the guy, really not wanting any more physical contact or attention

- there’s something interesting in ava’s expression when connor gets hugged by the guy, can’t quite explain it. i’m gonna go with it’s her trying to keep a straight face while connor hugs a man he just helped a woman cheat on, but that’s not all of it so

- or. okay, I think i got it. i think that that little expression when connor gets hugged is her rolling her eyes at him getting credit when ava did most of the heavy lifting. yes. final answer. i’m satisfied

- and her looking away from them is her stopping herself from laughing, bc connor is obviously not enjoying this

- and he’s so sad and angsty he can’t even play along with the jokes

- and ava smiling at him with pity as she walks in to talk to the patient, bc that’s really what it is. she feels bad for him bc connor is so obviously lonely

- and connor’s annoyed bc ‘dammit she does have a right to pity me i suck rn’

- med pushing the women are tough agenda LITERALLY SHUT THE FUCK UP

- you hate your women characters so much just fucking shut your mouth

- and will being like ‘ i have a lot to learn about women not being objects’

- and nat saying ‘you are way further along than most’ like no, he’s not. the bar is on the ground and he still can’t jump it

- i’m pretty sure this show doesn’t pass the bechdel test. holy fucking shit it doesn’t. you’ve gotta be kidding me. (at least this episode doesn’t)

I can’t believe this episode didn’t pass the bechdel test. The only convo btwn two women were like maggie and sharon and they talk about barry and oh my god this is infuriating god med the bar is so low. And I’m pretty sure most episodes don’t pass the test anyway. Will is literally the representation of med. He gets lots of credit for doing bare minimum things like giving women rights.

Anyway.

This was a good episode. We dissected a lot of unspoken Ava things, which is very good. Ava had a lot of moments where she was there, but didn’t say anything, and when your characters can do that, that’s when you know your characterization is very good.

The moments where Ava isn’t really doing anything to forward the plot of the episode but she’s still just there, doing her own thing, are hands down my favorite. Her sitting at the desk looking at a scan while connor tells latham he didn’t do cocaine could possibly my favorite ava moment in the series, just bc it shows how much of her own character should could’ve been.

I drew an interesting parallel btwn sarah offering the guy to slit her throat and ava’s death. i have nothing for that but go wild

This episode also showed us Ava pitying Connor, another new aspect. she gives him shit but she also pities him. very good ep for little ava moments

as always, thanks for sticking through it

-

read the rest here:

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Extra

[madonna-la-cardinalessa]

The Borgias Review 02.01 “The Borgia Bull”

And it’s time again for “2 historians judging watching The Borgias”. As said in the post which contains the complete review of The Borgias season 1: This is for entertainment only! We do not intent to hurt any fans with this. Since we both are pretty aware about this time period and study history in our bachelor and master rn we can see what works and what doesn’t in this show and for some people this might not only be funny but also interesting to read (even though this is by far no analysis!). For the time references I apologize again because it might differ from player to player. 

And because of the current situation it is not possible for us to do a The Borgias marathon again since meeting physically is…problematic. So we decided to watch the episodes while doing a WhatsApp call every Tuesday evening. This is why each episode of season two will get it’s own post this time yay! :D We hope you enjoy!

Review of the first episode under the cut:

Since I suck in html I won’t colour Sandy’s and mine parts this time and simply write like: Sandy: or Leni:

4:50 [fake!Giuliano holding a mess or something wearing a ..weird coloured ourfit] 

Leni: lmao, fake!Giuliano, why are you wearing a green gown? You’re a cardinal and you know, the term “cardinal-red” actually has a meaning xD

7:00 [Cesare enters the room, the audience knows it’s of course thanks to him that fake!Giuliano is poisend] 

Sandy: Oh look, Super Brain Cesare enters the stage. Wait, no it was Mastermind Cesare, sorry.

Leni: omg wtf is with his hair? Cesare got a permanent wave???

(Also as if the real Giuliano della Rovere would have been so dump to get poisend)

18:50 [Juan and Cesare bitching at each other and starting a fight]

Sandy: Ehhm, did they hate each other already in the last season? Or is this kinda rushed? xD

Leni: I think they had like one scene in s1 in which they showed how the fame made Juan evil...but yeah this feels rushed.

21:40 [Rodrigo and Giulia discovering some old ruins while hunting]

Sandy: *annoyed* OH NO, do not tell me, they discover some fkn roman ruins now and initiate the Renaissance because of this now.

Leni: Yeah, maybe Neil&Co did not know, that the Renaissance was a thing before the Borgia already. But since all characters (except Juan lol) are so good and lovely and whitewashed in this show, it makes sense that they alone bring Italy the light of the Renaissance ofc.

29:00 [Rodrigo can’t sleep and gets up to walk around in the apostlic palace at night]

Leni: Where is he going?

Sandy: Probably looking for his golden calf to worship it.

35:00 [Giulia noticing how much influence she is loosing towards Rodrigo]

Sandy: You know what? This Giulia is the personification of the cheerleader bitch in american movies.

46:40 [At the mask ball, Giulia gets advice from Vanozza how to keep Rodrigo under her influence]

Leni: As if a Giulia Farnese would have taken advice from a Vanozza Cattanei and if a Vanozza Cattanei would have helped a Giulia Farnese with giving her advice jjkdfjdsjfll.

50:00 [..GAY! xD Giulia making out with Victoria (was that her name?) because it’s sexy and Rodrigo pays attention and therefore f*cks them both that night]

Sandy: *annoyed* Now, the americans are so prudish and censore every f*ck in a show but they are always okay with girls kissing girls because it’s hot?

Leni: I think that’s a man's thing. You really see who scripted this show 

In general in this episode: Micheletto’s appearance

Leni: Why is Micheletto always dirty? And like sweating? Like ALWAYS??

Sandy: Maybe because he knows, that he is the worst assasine in the world and so he always sweats xD

Sandy’s general thoughts: I kinda got the feeling that a lot happened while nothing happened actually. What really made me upset was that the episode made it look like the Borgia initiated the Renaissance like: So yeah, here is the Renaissance, have fun! And then they start to celebrate roman feasts which some people would call ehm idk maybe... HERESY?????

Leni’s general thoughts: My PoOr BaBy AlPhOnSo of NaPeLs T_____T how can they torture my precious psycho kid Alphonso in that way??? Fake!Charles, I hate youuuuuu *cries for 10 hours straight*. And yeah, I think this episode’s plot was pretty boring. I enjoyed the few scenes with Lucrezia but kinda got the feeling that Giulia played a more important role than her now. And of course some things just did not work (like almost everything).

[sictv]

The Waiting Room

A/N: This is a very late addition to our story archive, the world is craaazy rn! Hope you enjoy it!

TW: Mentions of Suicide

Tags: Death, After Life, Agnst, Spiritual

1.7k words

17+

Sometimes, when you die; you don’t go straight, and you can’t go back…so you just wait. Somewhere there is a waiting room, in a location that cannot be placed on maps. A place that is only described as “A place that time has yet to come” upon entering the room, there are chairs lined up against a wall facing a greeting window, with an empty chair behind it. There is only one entrance and one exit, a guard stands on the inside of the waiting room and only points when a person has been called to the other side. Though there are so many comers and goers, and too many names to remember; there was a young Janet, who had recently passed on, and has now entered the room. When she enters the office, she is met with just a single man sitting in the chair directly in the middle of all the lined chairs. Though she was scared, she still took her seat next to him. With anxiety as her only familiar feeling, she sparks conversation with this man. With her eyes glued to the mans shoes, she shakily offered her hand to him. “…H…Hello, how are you?”

The man took her hand with a smirk, and a soft chuckle. He replied in his strong deep voice, carried by a southern accent “I’ve been better, been feeling a little down since I got here. I’m Randell by the way; but you won’t remember that”   He then cleared his throat fumbling in his pockets for something, pulling out two loose cigarettes, and offering one to Janet. She simply shook her head at his offer, wavying his gesture away. “No thank you, I’m uh Janet by the way” she replied resting her hands in her lap “Oh, not a smoker?” Randell questioned “No, smoking is bad for you. Its put’s people in early graves; too much of a risk” she scolded

Randell couldn’t help but chuckle and tilt his head as he placed the cigarettes between his lips. “Well I can tell ya dying is the least of my worries…anyhow… Nice to meet cha’ Janet, so let us cut the chase…how’d ya go? Crazy ex? Drunk night out gone wrong? Ya look a little young to end up here, how many kids did you have?” 

with every question Randell leaned in closer and closer to Janets face, to the point that his nose is touching her cheek. She leaned away from him, finally looking directly in his face. She though to herself on how Randell doesn’t look much older than her, but he spoke as if he had lived a life far longer than her. “uh. No...no…none of that…I jumped.” She finally said, her words feathering off at the end as her voice became quiet.

  His voiced raised with sympathy when he said “Ahh poor thing, so I guess ya know what’s comin’ to ya when Rahb knocks on the door, huh?” He placed his hand on her shoulder in condolence. Janet shook her head in confusion “Uh…who?”

Randell pointed to the door, where Rahb is standing with his head down. “Him, he doesn’t speak nothin much, but he listens well. Ain’t that right Rahb?” He received no reply from the tall silent man.

Janet looked over and surely there he was. There stands a tall man with chestnut brown skin, dressed in all black. His height on it’s own was shocking, standing at more than 7ft tall, and a veil covering his head. If one didn’t know he was a guard, they may mistake him for death. Janet bought herself back from her shock, “Okay well…uh…no…I don’t know…what’s going to happen to me?” she asked hoping Randell knew the answer, but alas he did not.

Randell just shrugged “Heck if I know, I never go when he knocks for me” Without hesitation Janet had to question him, there are options? She doesn’t have to go? Why doesn’t he go? Is he special?  “Then…how’d you go?” she questioned.

Randell Thought for a second, looking around the room as if the answer is going to pop up in a corner somewhere.  “Well…I…I…I just can’t remember…it’s been so long. I like to think I was a hero or somethin’, but seein’ as I’m here…well; I’m guessin I’ll never know”

Her questions continued “Okay…how long have you been here?” Randell shifted in his seat “Let’s see…I got here sometime after Kennedy got shot” he said quickly, and rather nonchalant Janet shook her head from the shock of his statement “Wait…wait...wait...wait…you’ve been here since Kennedy, the president…was shot?” He shrugged “Bout that time, yes.” Janet couldn’t hide her shock, “That’s almost 60 years! How can you just sit here for that much time?”

“Wow that long? Hm…time don’t come by there, I forgot how long it’s been. Did they ever figure out who did it?”  He asked innocently “I’m not going to answer that it’s not important R…” she paused for a moment, “R…rich..Richard? Ran..Randy? Rob… I’m so sorry, whats your name again?” Randell shook his head, “don’t worry about it, you don’t need to know it” Embarrassed she continued her questions “you never once even thought about going through the door? Wait…if Rahb does not speak…how do you know he’s knocking for you?”

Randell chuckles, sighing and leaning back into his seat. As if he was waiting for her to ask this question. “Well…for a long time…I was the only one here…and occasionally, good ol’ Rahb would give a knock on the door for me, and I’d feel this…pull in ma chest...tellin’ me to go and then Rahb would step to the side and point out. Then…there would be this bright light…of many colors, and I always wanted to go to it, but I just stay my ground, I ain’t too sure what’s out there for me and I’m not ready to find out just yet.”

Janet still wasn’t sure of what Randell meant, “a light? Of many colors? What does that even look like…like stained glass? Or a rainbo-“ She was  stopped by a sudden pulling in her chest, a sensation that immediately brings her to tears. She couldn’t decide if the feeling was painful or just an unfamiliar sensation. She clutched her chest, as if she could take the feeling out with her hand. Almost like if she could just see what was making her feel this way, she could understand her tears. However, no matter how hard she could dig into herself, she would never find it.

At the feet of Randell and Janet is a bright light, of beautiful colors, some Janet had never seen before.

Randell looked over at Janet, wiping some tears from her face. Offering a gentle smile, and speaking softly “That’s it…that’s the light” Her voice shaking from her tears “I…I see that…what do I do?”

Randell once again shrugged “That’s up to you, are you gonna go and face uncertain everafter? Or are you gonna sit here with me? The choice is yours.” Janet thought for a moment, wiping the tears from her face. But no matter how many she wipes away, more fall. She debated with herself over worrying about where she was headed, not knowing what was going to happen was so terrifying but staying with Randell could be just as bad. What if Rahb really knocked for Randell because he was special, what if this opportunity never came to her again. The more she thought about it, the pulling in her chest getting so strong that it was now beginning to be painful.

“If I go…are you just going to stay here? You can’t come with me?” her voice had risen with her question and fallen with her fear.   Randell placed his hand on her shoulder, shaking his head “Not my light…not my knock…you’re on your own for this. You came into the world on your own; sadly, even if you died in a big ol’ group of people, you’d still be walking through that door on your own”

Janet shook her head at him, her simple tears turning into harsh sobs.  “But…I’m scared…I jumped but I didn’t…I didn’t want to die. I mean I did, but…I-I-just thought I would just…not exist anymore. I didn’t know there was more to go through” 

Randell sighed, grabbing her hand. “Darlin’ that’s a record I’ve heard before. It never gets old, because everyone says it a different way. I can’t take the pain of your decisions away but The faster you decide, the less scared you’ll be.” Janet looked over that the door, the pull in her chest now becoming unbearable. She stands and starts to walk over to Rahb and the light. Her footsteps were shaking, her fingers curled into her palms. She turned back to Randell. “Dying…is the least of my worries, right? At least I know it’s not that…It was nice meeting you R.. R…” She chuckled through her tears, the only time she’s laughed since she’d been there. She continued “I hope to meet you again someday” Randell nodded, rising from his seat and handing her the cigarette she refused, he simply said “Death can’t getcha twice Darlin’ “ with those kind words he waved her off.

Gaining a breath of courage, she walks out of the door. The light fades, the door closes and Rahb is standing in front of the door once again. Rahb, in a deep voice that shakes the tiles in the room speaks “Last time your name was Charles, and you died in World War 2” “Randell” laughed, “if I could tell the truth I would, time don’t come round here much”

“Randell” laughed, “if I could tell the truth I would, but people wouldn’t believe me if I told the truth, and besides…time don’t come round here much” he paused thinking of Janet’s tear stained face. “I hope she likes the name I gave her” “Why’d you pick Darlin?” Rahb asked.

“She was sweet, scared, but…I think this time ‘round, she’ll be ready. She’ll live a long life, my Darlin’” He said sweetly.

Rahb just nodded, dropping his head in response.

The door behind “Randell” opened, and a man walked in. Before he looked around to see Randell in the middle of the room, the way Janet did; Randell was gone. And in that same seat sat a little boy.

“Hey mister? Ya comin?” his little voice spoke

-Victoria

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Hypothermia

This is gonna be a trial piece to ease myself into this fandom; feel free to request for RDR2 anytime! I think the reason why I can’t get through any AC requests rn is because I’ve been playing RDR2 quite often (*cough* every day *cough*) so I think I’ll open requests for RDR2, keep them closed for AC, and then I’ll have the variety to keep switching between them. I know this is random and unrealistic lol but I kind of wanted to write it down to show that yes I do write RDR2 lmao. Anyway… Enjoy; feedback is much appreciated, as always :)

How could it still be snowing?!

Your horse marched behind Arthur’s, snorting quietly in the freezing air. The snow rose high, and you wondered whether you’d be able to hunt effectively.

Scrunching your nose, you adjusted the gloves on your hands and hugged your coat around you. “I hope it doesn’t get any colder,” you sighed, a huff of air escaping your lips. “I don’t think we should be hunting in this weather.”

“Someone’s gotta do it.” Arthur spared a glance over his shoulder. “We got a lotta mouths to feed.”

You both trekked in silence before you spotted a few tracks. “We’ll leave the horses here.” You dismounted carefully into the snow and grabbed your bow.

The snow made the tracks easy to follow, and soon you caught a glimpse of a big, beautiful buck taking a drink by a shallow icy river.

“That’ll do us just fine,” Arthur mumbled. “You take the shot.”

You called for the buck’s attention, drawing back the drawstring to let the arrow fly. It hit its target and the game collapsed with a surprised cry. You let out the breath you were holding and hurried to retrieve your arrow and prey. “Pearson will be happy,” you remarked, heaving the animal over your shoulder. The sudden heavy weight unsteadied your balance as you stood up straight.

“You alright there?” Arthur was leading your horse towards you.

“Yep!” Taking a few uneasy steps, you walked along the riverside. The river was running fast but smooth.

Under the snow, ice was abundant. You only realised that when it was too late. Your boot failed to grip the ground. The water drenched you as soon as you hit it, gushing over your arms and legs and soaking your back. The buck fell on top of your stomach, keeping it dry but pinning you to the riverbed.

“Woah, shit!” Arthur pulled the buck off of you and back onto the snow. You sat shivering in the shock of the change in temperature. “You alright?” Grasping your arm, he pulled you so you were standing.

“I-I’m r-really c-cold.”

“I’ve gotcha, sweetheart.” He led you out of the river, swapping your coat with his. He put the drenched article of clothing on the back of your horse (along with the buck you caught) and wrapped his around your shoulders. “We’re gonna ride back nice and quick an’ sit you in front of the fire.” He helped you onto his horse and mounted up behind you. Whistling for your horse to follow his, he set off at a speeding pace through the snow.

Although Arthur’s coat was warm and dry, the rest of your clothes were drenched, and began chilling you to the bone. Shivers convulsed down your spine as the wind attacked your skin.

You heard Arthur curse under his breath as he spurred his horse on; you had both decided to hunt further away from camp in hope of more elusive prey. His arm wrapped around your waist and brought you into his chest as he rode, keeping you warm but getting himself damp.

“You’re gonna catch somethin’ bad, Arthur.” You tried to shrug off his coat to cover his exposed forearms, but he grasped it and held it in place.

“I’m just fine… Colter ain’t too far now.”

As Colter came into view through the trees, you became aware of the fact that you couldn’t feel your hands or your feet. “There we go, see? Told ya it wasn’t far.”

There were a few people standing around as Arthur skidded to a stop. “Can we get some help over here?!”

Javier was the first to respond, gently helping you off Arthur’s horse so he could dismount himself. As your feet hit the ground, your ankles gave way, causing you to fall into Javier. “I can’t feel my f-feet.” Your teeth chattered quietly.

“You’re so cold, Y/N.”

Arthur pulled his coat further up your shoulders as Dutch and Hosea came out of their cabin. Seeing your frozen state, Dutch yelled out orders.

“Miss Grimshaw! Can we get some warm, dry clothes for Miss Y/L/N?! Mr Pearson, please deal with the meat and get Charles to help you hitch the horses!”

Hosea held the door to the cabin open as Arthur picked you up in his arms and carried you inside, Miss Grimshaw following a few moments after, jumpers and warm trousers in hand. “Here you are.” She waited for Arthur to sit you in front of the fire before setting the clothes down next to you.

You tried to unbutton your shirt, but all you ended up doing was fumbling around the material. “M-My hands…”

“Let me help you.” You couldn’t remember a time where Susan Grimshaw was actually caring.

She cleared her throat. “Gentlemen.” Dutch, Hosea and Arthur quickly got the hint, and so while one went to change his clothes, the other two went to find more blankets and coal.

Slowly, you were dried and put in new clothes with fur linings. Miss Grimshaw took your hand in hers. “Can you feel any of this?” She started pinching the skin from your fingertips to your palm. You were shaking your head until she hit the centre of your palm.

“Ow!” You cracked a small smile as you flinched unexpectedly. “Sorry.”

There was a knock on the front door. “Come in,” Miss Grimshaw affirmed. Dutch opened the door, a few rolls of fabric wrapped under his arms, while Hosea held as many as he could possibly carry.

“Here you are, my dear.” As they set the blankets down, Arthur came out of his room, rolling up the remaining sleeve of a clean dark shirt.

“We’ll talk to Pearson about preparing the stew a little early tonight.” Dutch pulled his coat around himself more and headed out of the door again, Hosea in tow.

“I think what they’re also trying to say is that we’ll leave you two alone.”

Leave it to Miss Grimshaw to set it straight. “You’ve been very kind, Miss Grimshaw. Thank you.” Arthur said on your behalf.

“It’s not trouble at all; I’ve got to look after my girls.” You smiled warmly at her as she left.

“How’re you doing, sweetheart?” Arthur took some blankets from the pile and began wrapping them around you.

“You’re freezin’ too, Arthur.” You took note of his blue lips and pushed a blanket towards him.

“Nah, I’m fine—”

“Arthur Morgan, put a blanket on you right this instant.”

Smiling at your assertiveness, he agreed.

“Whatchu smilin’ at?”

He tried to suppress it. “Nothin’.” Grabbing your hand, he wrapped it in a blanket and gently massaged it in an effort to slowly warm them up.

“Now you’ve gotta tell me.”

“You’re cute when you’re bossy.”

“You won’t be callin’ me cute once I pull a gun on ya.”

“That may be true, and I don’t wanna tempt fate or anythin’ but I feel like that ain’t happenin’ any time soon.”

“Well… you’d be right.” You leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his body warmth. “How’re ya feelin’ now?”

“Better. Thanks for helping me.” You put your feet closer to the fire.

“I’d do anythin’ for you.” Blushing, he hid his gaze from you.

“I feel exactly the same, Arthur.”

[riverdaleroundup]

Riverdale Roundup 20x21: “The Killing of A Sacred Deer”

So Riverdale was on last night. I confirmed did not watch. I couldn’t watch it on my tv and I was far too lazy to get a stream up so like here we are. I go into my PVR to watch it this morning and it’s like “ no information found” and i’m ready to fume but when I pressed on it it still played so it was just god playing a little funny on me. Anyway, when I went on the internet last night people were like shitting their pants about this episode so i’m expecting something good. I’ve got my tea. Lets go.

Apparently I forgot about every single thing that happened last episode because their little recap has me straight shook. Like Reggie shot fangs? In what world?

So the Black Hood rolls up at Cheryl's house fitting to kill her and I’m just down for that. I’ve recently decided to stan Cheryl. I love the villian with a heart of gold. Please see season 1-3 Alex Karev.

So the black hood is coming after Cheryl with a casual axe because he apparently misplaced his gun, and he hacks up her lovely bedroom door. Cheryl goes all hunger games and whips out her bow and arrow and shoots the guy. I mean she could have done us all a favour and killed the guy so we can all move on to greener pastures. Like they aren’t going to drag this shit into season 3 are they? I don’t need another pretty little liars 7 seasons of dealing it, A, or the A team, or charles or whatever that stupid show morphed into.

Cheryl is the most casual girl ever. She just calls up Betty and is like “ yeah so the black hood just tried to kill me and i’m going to go hunt him in the woods. Want to do brunch on saturday?”

So Reggie didn’t shoot Fangs. I mean I guess it makes sense. Reggie was on the ground and Fangs got shot in the stomach so that would have had to have been quite the angle.

Hiram Lodge is like giddy about this whole riot. It's like christmas morning for the little guy.

Betty is uber convinced that her Daddy is the black hood and is worried that someone is going to murder him since Hermione is offering up a casual million dollars for the blackhoods head on a platter, preferably silver. Preferably polished.

So Veronica sees Midges mom wandering on the streets looking coked out as fuck and plot twist she was the one who shot fangs. I mean she thought he murdered her daughter but I mean that evidence is so damn thin.

Reggie is hiding behind a dumpster because bitches are out for him. He calls Mr Lodge and is like “ Daddy help” but Hiram isn’t his daddy anymore. He’s got to deal with this ish on his own.

All the football players + Kevin are out looking for Reggie. They end up at the high school where Sweet Pea and his boys are fitting to burn the place to the ground. Seems a little extreme but SP is cute so I probs would have allowed it.

Principal weatherbee shows up with like a bat or something and is like “ What the fuck? All you skanks better leave rn or i’m flip.” Honestly it’s very Mean girls with the principal and and the bat and i’m honestly surprised he doesn’t send them all to the gym for a seminar on confidence. He will keep them there ALL NIGHT. He can’t keep them past four. He will keep them there till FOUR.

Eventually the gang finds Reggie at Pops and honestly no one should be surprised because there are only ever 3 places anyone could ever be in Riverdale. It’s shocking that Pop had to call Archie to tell him that Reggie was there. They had basically knocked every other possibility off the list.

Betty gets a call from an unknown number and she thinks it’s the black hood, but I mean come on. Her annoying ass ringtone didn’t go off so we all know that it wasn’t going to be BH. It’s FP calling from a pay phone being like  

“ My bitch ass little son is a slithery lil snakey snake and ran off. Is he with you? Also your dad is in the ER.”

Betty promptly gets shook because she knows that Cheryl shot the black hood with an arrow so if Hal is bleeding from the shoulder shit is about to go down.

A bunch of crazies roll up to pops and Archie is pissed that Jughead hasn’t reigned in all his little friends but get shook guys. It’s the Goolies or whatever they’re called. I honestly forgot about them. It seems like decades ago since everyone put on their favourite vintage outfits and went out to watch the street race.

So the football players are trying to barricade the shop and poor pop tate is triggered. The guy has been through enough. Wars. Riots.The whole thing. But he knows how to deal with this ish. They going to lite this place up.

The Goolies are ready to take some names but boom. The Sheriffs cruiser appears out of nowhere and the silver fox fires his gun into the air sending the goolies running.

Hot dads for the win. FP and Keller are everything. Fred is there too but everyone needs a duff.  I would like to make it clear that I audibly out loud said “ yas hot dads unite” before Kevin mentioned anything about the trio. Just want to put that out there.

Betty goes running to the hospital and into her dads room but oops get shook. Hal isn’t there, but Dr Mcstuffins is dead. Poor guy. Asked too many questions. Sounds like every single one of my relatives and neighbours.

The phone beside the hospital bed rings because the black hood just magically knows that Betty has arrived in the room, and he’s like “ listen bitch, it’s past your bedtime. Get your skinny ass home or ima kill your mom. Okay. see you in 10. Byyeeee”

Jughead is brooding at the bar when his phone rings. It’s freaking Alice Jr, Penny Peabody.

She’s all like “ Hey babe. Listen i’m still kind of pissed at you so I kidnapped your girlfriend and was thinking that i’m cut her up into little pieces if you don’t come meet me by the docks.”

Jughead is all like

“Omg no not Betty!”  but Penny is behind on the times and just has Toni. At this point Jughead is just like

“Lol sorry bitch. You’re barking up the wrong tree. Maybe call Cheryl.”

Betty comes home and Alice is just chillin on the couch, enjoying her evening. Betty is like

“ We gotta go right now.”  but Alice already has popcorn on because Hal is going to show them home movies.

So Hal’s real name is Harold? What’s sad is that I find that to be the most shocking part of this. So Hal's dad murdered the conway family because they were sinners? What did these bitches do? Not recycle? So Hal went up to lil janitor before he became big janitor and convinced him that it wasn’t Hals dad who killed the guys family but some rando.

So Pappi Cooper killed Papi blossom and became Pappi Cooper as a cover. Does not make sense to me but okay. I feel like someone would done their ancestry tree and put this ish together but whatever.

So the Conway family knew the truth about this shit and blackmailed the Coopers about it. So those bitches need to die.

Hal has darkness and Betty has got it too so watch out kids. Elizabeth might kill next. I mean she already sent Chic to his death ( maybe)

Hal is like “ say it Betty. Say it out loud” and she’s like “ a vampire” jk. He’s the black hood. BUT there’s another black hood. Are they working together or is this just some random hoe? TBD.

Oh heck BH 2 is attacking Archie! Thank God Fred was there to take the bitch down. BUT makes the fatal mistake of not unmasking the guy when he had the chance.  Fred gets shot AGAIN but thankfully ex Sheriff Hot pants gave him a bulletproof vest.

Alice and Betty are confused about why Hal is telling them all this and why he wants it recorded, and he’s like

“So everyone will understand when we’re gone, or what happened to us” or some bullshit like that. I don’t remember the exact words but it was very menacing. So like is he thinking a double murder suicide type thing or? That’s the vibe i’m getting tbh.

Jughead shows up to the docks and Penny has the Goolie with the heavy eye make up with her. He’s like fitting to taze Jughead but Juggie brought Katniss with him so they Gucci.

Penny just wants to live her life and sell drugs. If they don’t let her do that then the Goolies and the serpents are going to rumble, not a midnight, but at dawn. You know. To keep things fresh.

I forgot about this small fry guy and that he’s coming after the Lodges. Also forgot all about Veronica and Hermione shit talking Hiram while he’s out. So like Hiram is going to expose Freds affair with Hermione but Fred was separated at the time and i’m pretty sure he’s not divorced. So really it was Hermione who was cheating on her spouse. I mean yeah it’s not great for Fred but he wasn’t going against HIS family.

Veronica and Hermione are still fighting when Small Fry breaks down the damn door and is like “ your daddy killed my daddy, prepare to die.”

Hermione is a terrible shot and misses the first 7 times but she gets the bitch eventually.

So Sweet Pea and Jughead are fighting about what to do about the Goolies when FP walks in the tells everyone that Fangs died. The poor baby. They vote about what to do and they decide they’re going to fight the bitches. So I mean, shit it bound to get lit.

Although Alice just found out her no good rotten husband has murdered like a ton of people she can still verbally assault him. GOD HAL YOU ARE SO STUPID.

“Are you going to kill everyone who has ever jay walked?”

And damn, bringing out FP. That cuts deep. Kill it Alice. Oh shit Hal don’t kill Alice! Betty beats him over the head with a fire poker!

FP is stressed! So there are serpent reserves? Who would that be?

So Jughead calls Hiram and is like “ Hey buddy. I know you’re the one making all this shit happen so like let’s make a deal.”

Hiriam comes home and baby boy Andre is dead! He runs upstairs all freaked out that he might have to say rip to his fam but they’re just at the table, waiting for him to come home and clean up the dead body in the study. That’s a blue job.

So Hal is being arrested and Archie is like “ omg he just tried to shoot my dad like 20 mins ago” and Betty acts all shook like she doesn’t already know that there’s another black hood. Pull it together sister.

She gets a call from Jughead and he’s like “ I love you bitch. I ain’t ever going to stop loving you biiiitch” and then he says he’ll see her soon. COULD YOU JUST EXPLAIN YOURSELF REAL QUICK PLEASE?

Oh Hell. Jughead is giving himself over the Penny and the Goolies?  So they’re just going to beat him to death and then murder all the serpents come morning? That seems extreme.

Hiriam took care of the body with the less hot ( but still hot) more crooked sheriff and Veronica is done with his shit.

Oh hell. FP carrying jugheads body? He isn’t dead. The bitch can’t be dead can he? It’s only the second season.  Well damn guys. Guess we’ll have to see.

I’m once again not reading this over because I have things to do today. Thank you and goodbye.

[punkscowardschampions]

Ronnie, Bronson, Charlie & Bea

Ronnie: I'm going on a run Ronnie: who wants? Bronson: My stash is depleted for some unknown reason �� please stock me up Charlie: Ooh, new year new you babe? Charlie: couch to 5k is it aspirational af 😍 Bea: ✋ me Ronnie: fuck off i just dont need you pussies crying when you can't scav my gear Ronnie: what'll it be princess? the usual Charlie: c'mon, we've always shared everything, nothing is your own #carekidlife Bronson: Ha! That'll be why the lock on my door never sticks Bea: yep, not decided to get heavily into crack since we last spoke, just lots of amphetamines in any form you find 'em, tah, got exams coming up Ronnie: Shame Ronnie: reckon I'd like you more on the hard shit Charlie: just in case you missed the old place, man, giving you that nostalgia for when you had to padlock anything that wasn't bolted to the floor 😜 Bronson: Good times! 😀 Bea: Shame I'm not trying to be your type then, I guess Bea: soz darling, spoken for 💋 Charlie: Truly, missing that tenner a week pocket money, LUXURY! Ronnie: fucking am Ronnie: pissing jobcentre Bronson: I'll add it to your tab if you're desperate as Charlie: gotta learn to play their game, babe Charlie: not throw the board in a hissy Ronnie: 🖕 doss cunts Bea: catch me here fanning myself with sweet, sweet debt for future me to give a shit about Bronson: I'll wipe it out if you use some to keep me sweet Bea: sweet enough sugar 😘 Bea: but forreal, if you could manage that I would be your sugar mama for LIFE 🙏 Bronson: It's student loans not the feds Bronson: Easy peasy Bea: true, like all branches of the gov, pretty fucking useless Bea: but I'm an immigrant as far as they concerned so they treat me SO good 😋 Bronson: Same, but we can always stretch our hands out a little further Ronnie: To jack it and pat yourself on the back at the same time, yeah? Ronnie: calm it down Bronson: New year, new look too! Green looks ace with black 😄 Bea: Clearly do not have natural rhythm Ronnie, that's really not that difficult Bea: You're not a drummer, are you? 😕 Ronnie: get off my tits all of yous Ronnie: do you want gear or nah? Bronson: 🤐 Bea: I thought you'd already gone tbh Ronnie: not trying to score that weak gay shit Ronnie: hitting up a more reliable source like Charlie: rude, i'm RIGHT here Ronnie: are you even gay fitzy? always in my pussy lad Bronson: 😷 Bea: 🤢 Charlie: idk, ask ur man 💖 Ronnie: that'll be why me and Bron's dads did a bunk Bronson: Get yourself locked up at the same time just for the d, did you? Romantic Charlie: if the porn n the stereotypes n the rate of STIs are anything to go by...love is in the air always in cell block h Ronnie: princess'll have some handcuffs to get you on your way to that good loving Bea: 🚿🧠 anyone got any bleach? Bea: Charlie isn't worth the 💰 use cable ties, more authentic Bronson: 99 🚔 My fingers are on the button....Stop for the love of god Ronnie: Bron can help you out there Fitz Ronnie: �� Bronson: Take that over a thicko label Charlie: Look, babe, know you wanna tie me down forever but do it yourself, don't involve the kid Charlie: 💍 diamond or no D, soz Ronnie: Bring a needle I'll snag a gem Bronson: Don't go there, C, I'm still riding the ear infection wave Bronson: It's been 84 years Ronnie: yeah cause you're a mong that can't turn an earring Bronson: In my defense I was a legit child Bea: nothing screams low-class like stabbing your friends for the bants Charlie: and i already scream homo loudly enough, don't need another reason to be hate crime-d, a thank you Bronson: If I didn't know you I'd guess bisexual Bronson: You can have that for free Charlie: what a smooth-talker! thanks babe 💖 Charlie: and if i didn't know you, i'd guess you were trying to see my dongle Bronson: Been there, repressed the trauma o that Ronnie: get a fucking room benders Charlie: why you being so homophobic when we all know how bad you want on princess? cliche stuck in the closet much Bea: shut up Ronnie: in your wet dreams Charles Ronnie: fuck off Charlie: oh the delicious tension Charlie: too much for either to bear Ronnie: I know where she's been Ronnie: fuck that Ronnie: like you wish you could gayboy Bronson: Wait, you fancy Fraze, Charlie? Ha Bea: Bron can you not encourage either of them Bea: thanks Bronson: Sorry my mind's just blown I thought he was out of his straight boy phase Charlie: What? Its a compliment for you, he's adorable, why else would you be with him? Ronnie: they're both annoying cunts Ronnie: match made Charlie: and never out of that phase, bro 😍 #daddyissues Bea: get his name out of your mouth bitch Ronnie: oi get your mouth off his dick Fitzgerald you heard her Ronnie: princess is raging like Ronnie: when your mans a slag and youre a prude Bea: As if Bea: Only one McKenna fucked up to go near you Bea: #singletear Charlie: Children, enough Ronnie: Bron do that final 9 she's going off 😂 Bronson: Walking away Bea: know you're hard up but as per we're all funding you getting your rocks off so run along and do it, no need to bore me trying to get your kicks Ronnie: know youre a snobby cunt but I don't work for you Bea: you don't work for anyone, not even JC gonna fund your lack of a life Ronnie: 🖕 mad cause I don't need reddies to fund myself Bea: yeah fuming Bea: if only I'd have thought of selling my body, wouldn't even NEED to be at cambs rn omg Ronnie: nailed it Bea: 😂 Bea: whodathunkit Bea: talking to the cure for cancer stuck inside a waster here Bea: and I'm the snob, okay Ronnie: fucking hell Ronnie: devvo like Bea: We can tell Bea: you don't need to shout about it, you've got the energy of a walking wasteland Ronnie: can't wait until you take some more speed and get more smug Bea: Right? Bea: Must sting, better only getting better Bea: why don't you get something to numb the pain- Ronnie: let you know how it feels when the lads come up Bronson: A rare compliment, you hitting it already? Ronnie: you'll have your share calm the fuck down Charlie: i don't want any, i'm busy Charlie: glad you all noted my silence, feel so listened to usually! hmpf Ronnie: so now you're a little bitch too Ronnie: fuck's sake Bronson: PARTY TIME, am I right? Really in the mood now thanks everyone Charlie: who's in who's pussy, dollface? Charlie: keep your shirt on, Bro 😂 got enough with the two angry feminists here Charlie: I've got previous plans, if you're really so hurt, you can save me some, no? Whaddya mean that'd hurt more? 😏 Bea: you're alright, I personally rather you weren't there, suits me 😘 Bronson: Shirts already off, too late 😜 Bea: Standard 👌 Charlie: you big man whore Charlie: when i'm not around to be predatory, too, tuttut Bronson: I'd wilt under your stare, you know you aren't missing out Charlie: our beautiful wallflower Charlie: I bagsy being a red rose, lil trashy but iconic Bronson: Thorn in our sides Bronson: accepted Bea: Nice one, babe Bea: i'll be an orchid, because i'm beautiful, ornamental and high-maintenance Bea: getting in there before any of you fucks can Charlie: though your silence IS noted, wonwon Charlie: don't be cross at me 😘 Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: you're not the only one who's busy Ronnie: got a dick in my mouth too like Charlie: such a skilled multitasker Charlie: teach me your ways Bronson: in private please Bronson: not a lesson I want to learn Bea: we're not living in that teen movie Ronnie: On my way Bea: 👍 getting cash out, meet you there Bronson: Doors on the latch

Bea: Morning sweetness 😴 Bea: manage to recover your good vibe/night? Bronson: is it? 😪 Bronson: Until now it wasn't too bad Bronson: Do you get to say the same or is it pure suffering? Bea: Wow, when you hit bae up with that morning text and he's like day=ruined 😰 thought we was forever 😉 Bea: Decided to get off with someone around the same time I lost track of yous, so it was fucking awful, don't tell me you coulda told me that Bronson: It's only the comedown I wanna dump you're welcome to come and nap 💗 Bronson: Not to be that know it all Bea: Molly's such a cruel, cruel mistress, she wants you to miss her when she's gone 💁 Bea: Poor bubba, better than waking up next to that pushy bitch from last night though, Jesus, what was her damage? Bea: I reckon he'd actually gone out and had his drunken kebab and THEN PAID TO GET BACK IN Bea: No sir, not alright Bea: Why do I bother? Bronson: But I'm shamelessly smitten, only girl for besides present company like Bronson: Whatever it is she's not the first or last sufferer Bronson: Thanks for the bail out and sorry I wasn't there to do the same with kebab Kev Bea: N'awwh 💞 glad I hold more appeal than Tina, don't need to be going down that route Bea: It's an epidemic! Basic bitches who can't get a man willing, yeah take that out on innocent onlookers who ain't buying and talk about how your ex ain't shit for being a creepy letch Bea: We see you sweets 💅 Bea: Any time, even if you weren't there to take that donner breath bullet Bea: I'd never ask that of anyone, even Ronnie, though she'd brag about not being arsed, I'm sure 😂 Bronson: Next time I'll carry gum and throw it at whoever you deem worthy Bronson: Give me the nod Bronson: It was all over her socials like we had a good night together until I got there first Bronson: Rather take out Tina and all her mates Bea: as if you don't already Bea: if only little miss would-be-rapist knew that strong jawline was from gurning up a storm 😉 Bea: not so sexy now Bronson: there's nothing in my pockets I'm just pleased to see you Bronson: Seriously though, some of those selfies had to go for that unflattering reason alone taking into account none of her other antics Bronson: I looked a state Bea: 😂 not fallen for that one before but i'll make an exception for you boo Bea: catch me in my duvet cocoon, please don't look at me 'cos same Bea: I dread to think Bea: kept off my accounts for that reason and many more, some of us have reputations to uphold, skank Bronson: want me to check Bronson: clean up the carnage Bronson: Then brunch, your treat Bea: please Bea: roleplay my IT bitch and I'll be feeling my boss best in time for a liquid lunch Bea: will have to damage control my face first, enjoy watching me lovingly whilst I turn a -2 to an 11 Bronson: Never get bored of staring at you, you know that Bronson: Make my hair great again Bronson: Thanks Bea: when you shoulda been Trump's campaign manager 😕 Bea: sort the weave, clean up that twitter Bea: what a wonderful world it coulda been Bronson: Last night proves I can't stop him pussy grabbing Bronson: Need you for that one Bea: This pussy bites back 😼 Bea: its not your fault, girls like that, if you tell her to fuck off, and rightly so, it'd be made like YOU were being a prick to her Bea: gotta bullshit these hoes sometimes, tis the only way Bronson: Or playing hard to get...they fire that one at me loads Bronson: 😦 Bea: 🤢 gross Bea: got that one myself a fair few times, when I'm not being accused of being a prude by Ronaldo, hilariously Bea: People are the worst Bea: 'cept us Bronson: It's only because she likes you Bronson: Flattering, isn't it? Bronson: Being called broken is my fave Bronson: "Who hurt you?" You are right now, fuck off before you get a slap yourself to feel the pain of Bea: Wouldn't that just be the perfect solution in their simplistic little world? If only Bea: Save myself the feelings of disgust not brought on by kebab breath Bea: Though, if you think that that's love coming from Ron, then you do have an answer to their riddle right there, not real but the masses'll take one look at her and buy it 😜 Bronson: No arguments here Bronson: Your socials are sparkling now so that's real comfort to take Bea: 💖 yay Bea: the world never need know Bea: as long as I didn't drunk dial or text Fraze, this day is looking up, tah babes Bronson: Not to be a know it all again so quick Bronson: but I'm going to go ahead and guess the answer to that one Bea: BITCH DON'T KILL MY VIBE Bea: I'm sure I'd have angry ranting in my inbox if I had Bea: or a passive indirect on the socials, come across one perchance smartiepants? Bronson: Might've Bronson: I'll spare you Bea: Noooooooooooooooooooo Bea: Coulda had it all Bea: Really sours my Bloody Mary Bea: Fuck sake, now he's going to think I FUCKED kebab kev and enjoyed it meanwhile I sit here virginal and scrubbing my mouth out with soap Bea: How's this game fair again, please remind me Bronson: It isn't Bronson: But I can't tell you to stop playing Bronson: All yours Bea: you're meant to be a superwhizkid Bea: can't you think up a strategy so I win Bronson: Thinking cap is on Bronson: Because my hair still looks shit as much as Bea: I'll fix your barnet Bea: Between you and Charlie, honestly Bea: Never known boys like it 😂 Bea: blatant lie, have you seen how particular Fraze is but he doesn't really have much hair to be stylin' so Bronson: 👴 awkward Bea: you fool Bea: not like that 😂 Bea: though I'll keep it in my backpocket for when we inevitably row later Bea: #malepatternbaldnessBITCH Bronson: Freebie to kick your day off right again Bea: if you refuse to tell me what to do, could you use your skillz for good at least and fucking disable my phone when i'm fucked Bronson: Last time I tried you tried to fight me like Bea: Look, I didn't say it was a task for the fainthearted 😉 Bea: and yes, you would be the first to succeed too Bea: but if anyone can, its my man 😘 Bronson: Ego boost before eggs Bronson: Whoa Bronson: Today is looking up Bea: Gotta keep you sweet with all the bitching I'll no doubt do at brunch Bea: such a Carrie move, like no one cares bitch, write it in your column or books or...what did she even write? Or was she just monologuing at her computer, like all been there babe but don't act like its buying you all that designer Bronson: Her real true love was that laptop Bronson: Solved it Bea: 😲 Bea: but Mr. Big Bea: clue in the name Bronson: Could be his wallet Bronson: explain the designer gear Bea: Exactly Bea: Just my type Bronson: I'd go in for it if I can spend and send him the receipts Bea: you must be aware there are websites for that Bea: get on it boy Bronson: It all gets too sexual for my tastes Bea: set out boundaries Bea: different strokes for different folks Bea: i'm SURE there's a millionaire out there that just wants to chat Bronson: 🤔 There's enough fighting off advances in the club Bronson: Shelving that until millionaires become good people Bea: not bad people by default Bea: just a bad system they profit from more than you Bronson: Getting deep in here Bronson: Truth though Bea: real talk take #2 Bea: where do you think charlie was last night? and who or what was he doing? Bronson: Good questions that I have no answer to Bronson: If he had a job we'd all know Bea: I need to know, suspense is killing me Bea: I didn't think anything beat drugs in his book Bea: somewhat encouraging? Bronson: You could ask but I doubt you'd get far enough into the real Bronson: It is Bronson: Boy's growing up? Bea: Full of the #bants them two Bronson: Since day 1 Bronson: I'm coming to get you, Barbara Bronson: Ready yourself Bea: *falls over gravestones like a dumb bitch* Bea: i'm good to go and looking fly Bronson: I'll do the coded knock Bronson: Made up rn Bea: Helpful Bronson: That's my thing Bronson: Soon, my love, soon

[somedayshouldbetoday]

What Would It Take Just To Find... Ch 1

In the Beginning

Day 1, 10:34

The group chat was absolutely buzzing, and Ex could hardly keep track of what was even going on. All he knew was that the phone in his hand had given an unearthly screech before opening up to an entirely different screen than the one he had been in. It seemed to start out with people nagging another person (Yoosung... with a star~*) to do well in school and quickly devolved into name calling and a minor debate on the topic of nepotism.

“This place really hasn’t been used recently, has it... Where’re the cleaning supplies...” Ai mumbled, swiping a finger at the desk right next to the entrance of the apartment and frowning at the layer of dust that was disturbed. 

“Master, I think you should look at th- Don’t just wipe the dust on your pants!”

Faithfully ignoring him as always, Ai cozied up next to Ex to read the screen. “Ah,” Ai supplied oh so helpfully. 

“I think we are starting to raise a little panic,” Ex said flatly, noting that the one under screen name 707 had finally noted their intrusion. At that moment, the computer on top of the desk also flared to life, and the chatroom soon mirrored itself onto the screen. 

[707]: Whoa! 

[707]: TWO INTRUDERS?!

[707]:

[Yoosung★]: 

[Yoosung★]: omg...

[Yoosung★]: There are TWO hackers in the chatroom!!!

“Not that I have any computer skills,” Ai sighed, taking a seat down to read the screen. Ex decided to sit down on the floor next to the rolling chair and kept reading from the phone.

[ZEN]: Dude, settle down...

[Jumin Han]: Who are you? Reveal yourself! Hey, Assistant Kang!

[Jaehee Kang]: Yes, I am here.

[ZEN]: You were so quiet, I thought you were somewhere else.

[Jaehee Kang]: Nothing was out of the ordinary so I was just watching.

[Jaehee Kang]: But I see something has happened.

[Yoosung★]: omg...

[Jumin Han]: Why are there strangers in our chat room?

[Jaehee Kang]: No one can enter without installing the private app that we use... it seems like they have downloaded the RFA messenger.

[Yoosung★]: I thought Seven only let us download it?

[Guest2]: And I thought apps were only for the phone an stuff?

[Guest2]: I’m typing at you from a computer rn.

[Yoosung★]: GAHHHH IT’S TALKING!!!

(Ai ignored the flat stare that Ex shot. It was not worth it and his ire eventually redirected.)

[Guest1]: ...’it’?

[Guest1]: That is rude and uncalled for. Master is not an ‘it’.

[Guest2]: ‘Master’ does not actually mind and minds more that you are calling said Master ‘Master’. -_-

[Guest2]: We’ve talked about this, Ex, smh.

[Guest2]: Well, it’s a bit late, but hello everyone. 

[Guest2]: To answer your question, I’m Ichihara Ai. Pleasure.

[Guest1]: ...And I’m Xavier.

[Guest1]: WHICH IS MY FIRST NAME

[Guest2]; HIS FIRST NAME IS CHARLES

[Guest2]: T-T Aw, c’mon, Ex. 

[Guest1]: NO. You tell that joke all the time.

[Guest1]: NOT THIS TIME.

[Guest2]: Awwww....

[Guest2]: ...?

[Guest2]: Hello?

[707]: Sorry. ^^; It was just pretty funny to watch you two, lol.

[Jaehee Kang]: 

[Jaehee Kang]: THERE IS NOTHING FUNNY ABOUT THIS!

[707]: GAH! 

[707]: So scary!

[707]: T-T

[Guest2]: lol

 [Jaehee Kang]: How did you find out about this place? Where did you download the app?

[707]: Oh wait...

[707]: Just found something weird.

[ZEN]: What is it? Hurry up and tell us.

[707]: Just traced the IP...

[707]: It’s coming from inside Rika’s apartment.

[Yoosung★]: Rika’s apartment?

[Jumin Han]: Where was it again?

[Jaehee Kang]: The location is not revealed. I know it to be classified.

[707]: Anyway, someone must have broken into her apt.

[707]: It spoke just now so it must be a person. ^^;

[Guest2]: ...

[Guest2]: Q-Q Ex... 

[Guest2]: Are we criminals now?!

[Guest1]: -_- Calm down.

[Yoosung★]: WHO ARE YOU? HOW DID YOU GET INTO RIKA’S APARTMENT?!

[Yoosung★]: HOW DID YOU GET THIS APP?!

[Guest1]: We were invited.

[Guest2]: Q-Q Some guy asked us to drop in.

[Yoosung★]: ?!

[Guest2]: He gave us the password to the door and everything.

[Guest2]: Said it was because Rika asked?

[Yoosung★]: No way...

[Guest1]: ...You need not believe us. But if you are going to kick us out of your chatroom you had best do it soon.

[Guest1]: I would rather not be arrested for making sure Master’s Good Samaritan act would go well. We will evacuate as soon as possible.

[Guest2]: We’ll, ah, also leave the phone we were asked to drop off here, too.

[Jumin Han]: Quit shitting around.

“Ex,” Ai choked, barely bursting out laughing.

“No,” he said flatly, never taking his eye off the screen. The group was beginning to threaten them and he was beginning to lose his patience. Ai gently placed a hand on his hand and soothing ran fingers through his hair.

Just as well, the group derailed the conversation to the views on a video. Or maybe not. Jumin Han quickly got the group back onto questioning the pair of intruders. Damn. Though it seemed like Seven was finally running background checks on them.

In the meanwhile, it seemed like the group members were starting to introduce themselves. Talks of both of their genders and the member’s photos went up. Ai laughed when nobody recognised Jaehee’s picture. 

Out of nowhere (although he expected it at this point), Ai took the phone and snapped a picture of the two of them to add to the chat. 

It wasn’t a bad picture, per se. Ai, with wavy black bangs and a short ponytail, gave a cheerful smile, dark eyes glittering mischievously. Ex on the other hand served as a severe contrast. His fair skin and long, straight, blue-ish locks braided off to the side did nothing to make the glare from his sharp teal eyes and scowl less intimidating. If he had one complaint, it was that the lighting was so bad that it made Ai’s tan skin look darker, but from the enthusiastic way the picture was posted he had to guess that Ai had no cares at all about that. As usual.

[Guest2]: The grumpy looking one is Ex! I’m the cutie over there~

[ZEN]: WOW! You really are cute... 

[ZEN]: Sorry for us being so brash, the whole situation must be strange to such a cute little lady.

[Guest2]: o-o Ex...

[Guest2]: I never knew you were a little lady.

[Guest1]: I’m not.

[Guest2]: Should I start calling you m’lady?!

[Guest1]: If you are trying to piss me off, it’s working.

[Guest2]: Q-Q Help...!!!

“Don’t pretend to be so distressed when you’re laughing so hard you’re almost falling out of your seat,” he scowled. Ai simply gave him waggled eyebrows and pointed at the screen.

Oh. V had logged in. There was a little drama between him and Yoosung, but it seemed V was willing to at least hear out an explanation of why they were there. In the end, the boss man concluded that whoever Unknown was, he must have been entrusted to the task by Rika and that the two of them were to be trusted. With some coaxing, he managed to get everyone to relax and Seven began to explain things about the RFA when a picture got Ex’s attention. 

It was a black and white picture of Rika, apparently, hosting one of the parties that would be his and Ai’s responsibility but...

[Guest1]: Excuse me.

[Guest1]: But by any chance, did Rika...

[Guest1]: Frequent an old style church?

[Yoosung★]: Yes...? Why are you asking?

[Yoosung★]:

[Guest1]: Master...

[Guest2]: That. Is the stupidest thing I have ever heard, Ex.

[Guest1]: It does explain things.

[Guest2]: No. No it doesn’t.

[ZEN]: ? 

[Yoosung★]: What are you two talking about?

[Guest2]: Mm... a while ago. We met someone named Rika who looked like that at a church but...

[Guest1]: Well, she and Master had a philosophical debate on things. 

[Guest1]: I guess she would think you a good candidate?

[Guest2]: That is absolutely ridiculous.

[Guest2]: I’d rather hear about what we’ll be needing to do.

Well, now that Ai was scowling at him, Ex decided it’d be a better use of time to jot down their responsibilities. 

This first day was going so well already, wasn’t it?

[anavoliselenu]

In flight chapter 14

What came up was overwhelming, and filled with even more unpleasant surprises than I was prepared for. I had been aware that he was a young but well-known billionaire. I had expected some attention from the media in his direction, just from his looks and money alone. But I couldn’t have anticipated what I found.

I was out of touch with current events, to say the least. I didn’t watch the news, and you couldn’t pay me to watch some of the celebrity entertainment shows that were on television, and I certainly wasn’t interested in print tabloids. I’d never understood the appeal of things like that. I had just never been able to relate to anything about them. They usually centered around spoiled rich people, and I just didn’t get the appeal. That could perhaps excuse the fact that I was utterly clueless about the man I’d had a brief affair with.

I clicked on the images portion first. It was mostly shots on red carpets. He seemed to have endless pictures posing with countless women, though Jules was in a sickening majority of them.

He wore tux after tux, some fashion forward, some classic. She wore gowns in every color, always looking beyond stunning. The two of them together made a dauntingly beautiful pair. He wore suits in other pictures, to what I assumed were less formal red carpet events. I was shocked to see that I even recognized some of the other women he had dated.

I recognized a very famous actress. I hadn’t realized she was so tiny until I saw her standing beside Justin’s tall figure. She barely came to his chest. I had liked a few of her films, but I felt an unreasonable rush of dislike for her when I saw that she had attended at least three events with him.

I recognized yet another woman, a voluptuous, dead behind the eyes reality star. She was dark-haired and dark complexioned. Her curves very nearly ran to fat, I decided cattily. She was so short that they looked ridiculous side by side.

I felt sick when I saw him next to one woman who had the caption ‘fetish p*rn star’ right under the picture.

He always looked spectacularly handsome, regardless of who he had on his arm, but I was getting a bigger and drastically different view of him now. And I didn’t like what I was seeing.

Farther down on the image page I saw a picture of him and Jules dressed down in jeans. It was a rare sight, so I clicked on it. I got a larger view, with a small gossip article. They were holding hands in the picture. The article said that she was rumored to be his longtime on-again off-again girlfriend.

I turned on my phone just long enough to send Justin the image.

Selena: You Liar. I’ll speak to you on Monday because I said I would, but I’ve begun to do my research, and I’m quickly seeing that I don’t know anything about you.

I didn’t bother to read the dozen unread messages above the one I had sent him, but I got a response almost immediately, and I did read that.

Justin: Please don’t believe that tabloid garbage. I’ll admit I never discouraged the rumors about Jules being my girlfriend, but they were only rumors. She has never been my girlfriend. She’s my best buddy’s sister. I promise I will never escort her to another event for the rest of my life, but last night was not a date with her. It was a long standing social obligation. If I had tried to put myself in your shoes, I would have seen how hurtful it could look to you. I apologize for that. I would give anything if I could do it differently. But please, just try to give me the benefit of the doubt, and stop looking at tabloids. I’m still in New York working, since you won’t see me, but it’s killing me that I hurt you and that I can’t make it right. I could be on a flight within the hour. Just say the word, love.

I turned my phone off after that. His one message almost had me softening towards him, and I just wasn’t going to let that happen. Fool me once…

I went back to my own personal torture of sifting through gossip about Justin Archibald Basil Cavendish, The Third. I hadn’t even known his middle names, or that he had two of them. A random gossip site had had to tell me. Of course, he didn’t know mine, either.

I found articles about his parents, and even a few pictures. They were a stunning couple. His mother was a dark-haired, dark-eyed, ravishing beauty with Justin’s golden skin and pretty mouth. His father was devastatingly handsome and blond, with beautiful turquoise eyes that made my gut clench with recognition. I could see how such a combination of people could create a masterpiece like Justin.

An article I found about them wrote about how they had died in a car accident. Their tragedy, and a beautiful young Justin, a billionaire before he was even fourteen, had quickly been propelled into the spotlight and romanticized.

I caught little snippets and even a picture of his infamous deceased guardian, and the full details of that scandal. The man was in his early thirties in the first picture. He was handsome, with light brownish-blond hair, like Justin, but a paler complexion. And he was slender to the point of frail, with creepy, pale green eyes. Spencer Charles Douglas Cavendish had been a predator in the skin of a lamb. I felt a hate for him that made bile rise in my throat.

I read the article about his death. Spencer Cavendish had been killed by an enraged lover. One Lowell Blankenship had been drugged and handcuffed by the frail Spencer. Lowell had commented that he had consented to have sex with Spencer, but that he hadn’t agreed to any of the other ‘sick shit’ the man had forced upon him. Spencer had been strangled to death when he had unlocked the handcuffs of the much larger Lowell. I personally thought he deserved a far more painful death.

There were countless other articles about Justin’s numerous business ventures. I just skimmed over these. I did learn that he was into much more than just the hotel industry, and I wasn’t surprised.

I read through a three page article about his two month affair with a platinum hit singer. She was barely nineteen, and it had been less than six months since their split.

Dammit, I have some of her songs on my mp3 player, I thought in disgust. He had his hand on her nape in one of the pictures. I wanted to throw something.

There were a few articles that hinted briefly about him being a kinky sex partner, but that was all that I found that was even close to touching on his BDSM lifestyle. I wondered how he’d kept it so well under wraps.

I turned off my computer, striding into my bedroom and tearing the painting of him from the wall. I tried to make myself tear it up, but I just couldn’t do it. Instead, I put it into my chest of old watercolors.

I turned my phone on again. I ignored all of the new missed calls and texts from Justin. I texted Stephan, asking if I could come over. He answered instantly with a yes.

I went over, and we watched TV and ate too much ice cream. It helped, but as soon as we stopped watching, I started thinking again. That’s how we ended up catching up on my TV until nearly two a.m on a work night. We had an early morning, but Stephan didn’t complain.

“I spoke at length to Justin today,” Stephan told me after we’d been watching TV for hours.

I just nodded.

“Want me to tell you about it?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. Let me know if you do.”

“I need some time. I read up on him online. I’m feeling less inclined than ever to even speak to him again.”

Stephan took a deep breath. “That’s something I wanted to talk about, actually, if you’re willing to hear what I think about the whole thing right now.”

I just studied him for a minute. He looked nervous, which meant I wouldn’t like what he was going to say. “Not right now,” I said.

“I think I can at least understand now why he wanted to keep his relationship with you private.”

I held a hand up. “No more. It sounds a lot like you’re taking his side right now. I just can’t handle that at the moment.” Unwilling tears welled up as I spoke.

He pulled me against his chest, kissing the top of my head. “Never, Buttercup. I’m always on your side. Always. We’ll talk about it when you’re ready.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Mr. Cavendish

I was grateful for busy flights at work the following day. We had full planes going both ways on our turn. I barely had time to eat, and I was avoiding thinking at all costs. I didn’t even have my phone. It was still at home, by my bed, and turned off.

The Agents were present, and I felt a moment of unreasonable anger at them when I first spotted the one in my cabin. I squelched the emotion, just serving them as they alternated cabins on the return flight. I made myself brush off the implication that Justin still had a reason to keep an eye on me. I would set him straight on Monday, and then this nonsense would be over for good.

I was, thankfully, exhausted by the time I got back home that night. I only performed the minimum bedtime preparations before practically falling into bed.

I slept in late the next morning. Even after I woke up, I moved slowly. It took me nearly an hour to prepare and feed myself breakfast.

I felt like a zombie, too numb to even cry. I thought it was an improvement.

Stephan and I had a monthly lunch date with several of the other members of our flight attendant class at eleven. I was skipping out. It was a boisterous, funny, close-knit group. The lunches were always a great time. There were twelve of us in total that went, and we usually caught up with each other over lunch. We often caught a movie afterward or even headed to Stephan’s house, on occasion. I wasn’t up for any of it. Stephan had promised to make my excuses. He had offered to skip out with me, but I wouldn’t hear of it. I knew he was a social creature, and the lunches were always a highlight for him.

I tried to paint. One look at my canvas of a nude Justin changed my mind . I put the painting in my spare room with trembling hands. I just didn’t have it in me to deal with it at that moment.

Finally, I went the masochistic route, turning on my computer again. I set out to do more painful research on my famous ex-lover.

If I had been shocked by what my search had turned up the first time, I was utterly floored by what I found then. What a difference a few days had made.

Now, typing Justin Cavendish into the search engine brought up an entirely new batch of photos that the first search hadn’t. Pictures of me. I had never thought of myself as a beauty. My features were even and symmetrical and my coloring was a soft natural blond, but I had always just considered myself attractive, if I was in a kind mood. I usually photographed well. I even had a picture-ready smile. If it wasn’t all that sincere, it was at least polished and convincing enough at a distance. These weren’t those kinds of pictures.

They had obviously been snapped as I was stumbling out of Justin’s building. I looked disheveled, and, well, horrible. I was ghostly pale, my eyes red and bloodshot. There was mascara running down my face in dark lines. It made me look at least forty years old, instead of twenty-three.

My uniform was in shambles, the buttons of my blouse misaligned by at least three. I hadn’t even noticed at the time. My shirt was untucked, and the top was hanging low, showing an almost obscene amount of cl**vage. My hair was a tangled mess.

I looked like I was drunk and about to throw up in the street. I was teetering on the edge of the sidewalk. Apparently, I had looked as awful as I had felt that night. And the pictures were everywhere. One gossip site after another had scented the story of trouble in paradise. Though they all seemed to have a slightly different slant on it.

One site named me a ‘Vegas floozy’ who had come between Jules and Justin, though the site claimed that their love would endure the scandal. I saw that they were commonly referred to on the gossip sites as J&J. It made me want to throw up.

One site called me a ‘Low Class Inflight’, who had broken the heart of a distraught Jules. That one hurt, with side by side pictures of the two of us. The picture of Jules showed her in the pale gray gown she’d been wearing that night, giving a stiff smile at the camera. She looked strained, but at least she’d known she was being photographed. I saw farther down on the same article that they had indeed still attended the charity event together, in spite of the obvious strain yet another of Justin’s affairs had caused on the beautiful couple. The article concluded that their love would prevail over Justin’s weakness for cheap women.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if Jules had written the article herself, it was so biased towards her. It made her out to be a long-suffering Saint. I’d met the woman, if only briefly. She was no Saint.

One site called me a ‘Blond Sky Slut,’ and claimed that I was trying to trap Justin with a baby. I couldn’t believe all of the lies that could be concocted from a few short minutes worth of unsolicited photos, and all of a woman no one had ever heard of. It was shocking, and infuriating, and sickening.

One site resorted to drawing giant penises all over my face, saying that I ‘gave the best head’, and that was the only reason Justin would risk his long-time lover’s wrath. Supposedly several of the site’s sources knew it first-hand. The lies made me feel ill.

One site claimed I was part of a high-priced flight attendant prostitution ring, and that Justin obviously needed to ask for his money back.

I was almost flattered for a moment as I read the headline of one article. It claimed I was a ‘Swedish Bikini Model’. That sounded complimentary. Until I scrolled to the bottom of the article, which had a link it claimed went to a porno, starring me. I didn’t bother to click on it. I knew for a fact that it wasn’t me, and I didn’t want to see what it actually was.

Another said I was a cocktail waitress, and yet another said that I was a stripper with the stage name ‘Glory Hole’. The slurs went on and on, and I felt humiliated, angry, and heartsick.

This was the price I had to pay for one week of pleasure? I thought in disgust. I was going celibate for the rest of my life.

And I hated myself, for being just as upset that Justin and Jules had still gone out together that night as I was by all of the horrible lies being spread about me…

I got my phone out of my bedroom, finally turning it on after days in the off position. I went straight to Stephan’s name in my texts, completely ignoring all of the other messages and calls that I had missed. I’d missed one from Stephan as well. It had been sent twenty minutes ago.

Stephan: Buttercup, I’ll be home soon. Finishing up lunch now. We need to talk. Please don’t look at anything online until I get there.

I snorted. He should have known better. If I hadn’t already looked, his odd message would have sent me straight to my computer.

I heard the doorbell ring.

That was quick, I thought, as I strode directly to the door.

I wondered why he didn’t just let himself in. He was rarely so formal. He even had my alarm code.

A cold shiver ran through me. I couldn’t place why. Cautiously, I checked the peephole. It was covered.

By a hand, I thought. It made me angry.

I swung the door open, ready to chew Stephan a new one. “You know better than to mess with me like that, Stephan. It’s a mean prank-”

I couldn’t finish as a huge hand seized my throat, shoving me back into the house. I couldn’t even scream as the hand tightened. I blinked, trying to focus on the coldly furious face in front of me. The familiar pale-blue, bloodshot eyes. I could do nothing as the huge blond man picked me up by the throat, and shoved me across the room, my back hitting the wall with a jarring thud.

I clawed at the giant hand that held me suspended like a rag doll. It had no effect. My throat burned, and the impact with the wall had knocked the wind out of me, but the pain was secondary to the terror that gripped me.

A question consumed my thoughts. It was an old familiar pattern for me, when this madman, who exercised so little control over his rage, held me in his grasp. The question circled my brain like a persistent cancer. Would he kill me this time? He always threatened to. Ever since I had stood, not more than four feet away, and watched in horror as he pushed the gun my mother held into her mouth, and pulled the trigger. I had watched in helpless horror as his finger covered hers on that trigger, and pulled so slowly.

Blood had splattered all three of us, but he hadn’t seemed to notice.

At the moment, his words were a confusing tangle of Swedish and English, and I couldn’t for the life of me understand it. I had never been fluent in Swedish, but I’d had to understand it as a child, since my father stubbornly insisted on using it at home. But, either from terror or disuse, any ability to understand it was failing me. I tried to speak, to tell him that, but his hand was still at my throat, cutting off my ability to speak.

His hand relaxed on my throat just enough for me to take a breath. I gasped, then grunted and whimpered as his fist made hard contact with my ribs. I sobbed in another breath, still desperate for air.

He spoke again. This time it was a heavily accented but understandable string of English. “Don’t get the idea that a rich boyfriend will keep you safe from me. If you even think about speaking to the police, I will still kill you. Do you understand?”

I couldn’t speak, but I tried. God, did I try. Finally, I just nodded, but it wasn’t enough. One of those massive fists made contact with my stomach once, and then again. I started to crumble, but he pushed my shoulder into the wall hard enough to keep me upright.

“Look at me,” my father’s cold voice ordered.

I did, getting a good look at him for the first time since he’d charged, like a madman, through my door. It had been six years since I’d seen him, but he’d aged twenty. He was even heavier now, his face dissipated with the signs of a life lived in excess. He was a drunk, a smoker, a chronic gambler, a murderer, and God only knew what else. It had all taken it’s toll on his once handsome face.

I called myself a thousand kinds of fool. I’d known he would never leave Vegas. He had gambled to stay afloat since his parents had disowned him at least twenty-four years before. I had prayed that his destructive lifestyle would take care of him on it’s own, but it had been too much to hope for.

Thinking it was Stephan at my door was no excuse. I was an idiot for letting my guard down for even a second. But he had somehow known when to strike. I was so depressed and despondent that my brain wasn’t working properly. The thought of a real threat had been so far from my mind…

“People have been asking about me, people I don’t know. What did you tell your rich boyfriend about me? Did you tell him about your mother’s death?”

“No,” I sobbed. “I don’t know what people you’re talking about. I didn’t tell him anything. I swear it.”

My words were useless. They always were. My father was a man of action. He grabbed my arm with one hand, punching me in the side with the other. He always spread his punches out. He caught a spot at my back and my spine bowed in pain.

He swept my legs out from under me. I went down easily. He kicked me once, hard, in the back. He walked around me, bringing a booted heel to my neck. “It would be easier than taking a simple step for me to kill you. You understand this? My weight alone will crush your windpipe. Is this how you want to die? Because if you tell anyone what I did to your mother, there is no reason why I shouldn’t kill you. I would not hesitate. Do you understand, sotnos?”

“Yes,” I croaked out. It was a struggle to get that one word out with that huge boot on my neck.

He picked me up, effortlessly propping me back on my feet. “And your man needs to quit poking around in my business.” He raised an enormous fist above me, bringing it down on the back of my head. My world went black.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Epilogue

I awoke to the biggest, baddest headache of my life. It was a doozy. I wanted to sink back into unconsciousness immediately. It was my first conscious thought.

I opened my eyes the tiniest crack. It made the pain even worse, so I shut them again.

I’m in a hospital, was my second conscious thought. Everything, from the way I was propped up, to the smell, to all of the little beeps, clued me in. My third thought was that my head wasn’t the only thing wrong with me. Almost every part of my body throbbed, head to toe.

My hands seemed to be unharmed. My right hand was clutched in a warm, hard hand. I knew that it must be Stephan at my side, and I felt better just from the knowledge of his steady presence. I was in bad shape, but I was alive. And I had Stephan.

I made a second attempt to open my eyes. It was marginally more successful than the first try, but agonizing pain still shot through my temples. I glanced toward the man sitting at my right. I was more than a little unsettled to see that it wasn’t Stephan.

Golden-brown hair trailed into an achingly beautiful face as Justin leaned over my hand, his face stark and desolate, his eyes red, his pretty mouth pursed as though he were in pain. He had the posture of someone who had been sitting slumped over that way for hours, if not days. He looked so tragic that way, and so heart-achingly handsome, that I felt an instant softening towards him. I wasn’t thinking very clearly, but I tried to reach out briefly to comfort him.

My arm didn’t move much, but I was able to grip his hand with a tiny, reassuring squeeze.

His head shot up, his eyes searching. Those vibrant blue eyes looked on the verge of tears. It was surreal to see him like that. He swallowed hard.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. He reached over and pushed a button just to my right, but behind me. And then both of his hands gripped mine, stroking it softly.

My voice was raspy and weak, but I answered him. “Alive.”

He blinked, and a tear slipped down the planes of that perfect golden cheek.

I blinked at him, wondering if I was dreaming. This was such a strange Justin that sat in front of me, nearly a stranger. But then again, he had always been a stranger. Hadn’t he?

“Where’s Stephan?” I asked him. It hurt to talk, so I vowed to keep my talking to a minimum.

“He went to get coffee. He’s been glued to your side.” He nodded at a spot on the other side of me. There was another chair placed right at my side. “He’s even been sleeping there.”

I processed his words, then almost immediately broke my vow of silence. “How long have I been out?”

He lowered his head, touching his forehead to my hand. “Three days. Forever.”

I sighed, feeling a little relieved. It could have been worse. “How long have you been here?” I asked him.

His face looked impossibly tired as he gazed down at our joined hands. “I showed up at your house as the ambulance was taking you away. We followed it to the hospital. Stephan and I were both just minutes too late…”

“You came to my house early,” I said, a small thread of accusation in my voice.

He just nodded. “Yes. But not early enough,” he said, and I could tell that he was blaming himself for what had happened, for showing up too late to stop it, which was crazy, of course.

I supposed, in a disconnected kind of way, that someone who needed so badly to be in control, must also feel the need to take a disproportionate amount of responsibility for things, even things that were completely out of his control. I squeezed his hand.

“How long have you been at the hospital?” I asked again.

He just blinked at me. “Since then, Love. Do you think I could leave you like this?”

My brow furrowed. “Don’t you have work to do?”

He laughed, and it was a rusty sound. “I’m taking some time off.”

I noticed for the first time that the private room we were in was filled to bursting with flowers. They ranged from exotic bouquets, to decadent roses, to simple carnations. It seemed that every flower was represented in the many vases around the room.

“You did this,” I said, as I took it all in.

He kissed my hand. “Not just me,” he said. “The white lilies are from Stephan. And those sunflowers are from Damien and Murphy. The mixed wildflowers are from your airline. And that mixed bouquet is from a group of flight attendants from your class. I got the rest.”

“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he murmured, watching me like a hawk.

Stephan came in then, and rushed to my other side. Tears ran down his face as he grabbed my other hand.

“How do you feel?” he asked, sitting in what was obviously his chair at my other side..

I grimaced. “Alive.”

“I should go get the nurse,” Stephan said, starting to stand.

“I buzzed her. She’s usually prompt, so she’ll be here any time now,” Justin told him.

Stephan sat again. He stroked my hand comfortingly. “I was just speaking to the police. They want to talk to you when you feel up to it. I told them that I thought it was your father, but I didn’t see him, so they won’t take my word for it. It was your father, right?”

I just nodded, wincing. “Later. I’m definitely not feeling up to it right now. What day is it?”

“Thursday,” Stephan told me.

My eyes widened, my mind automatically going to work. “We fly out tonight?” I asked him.

He patted my hand. “I talked to the director of inflight. He had no problem letting us switch our vacation time, with you being hospitalized. He was actually really great about it, knowing we couldn’t take that much time off unpaid, and that I couldn’t work with you hurt like this. We’ve got two weeks off, so don’t worry about work.”

I shut my eyes in relief. “Thanks, Stephan. You’re the best.”

Justin’s hand tightened on mine. “That’s not enough time. And if you’re that worried about money-”

“Don’t,” I told him, my eyes still closed.

His mention of money opened the floodgate, and I suddenly remembered, quite vividly, why he had no reason to be by my side. I started to withdraw my hand.

He clutched it, and my eyes snapped open, glaring at him. The look in his eyes stopped my hand, and I just didn’t have the heart to glare at someone who looked so…desperate.

“Okay, I won’t. I’m sorry. I just wanted to help,” he reassured me in a way that seemed foreign to him. No one could say he wasn’t trying…

The nurse arrived, checking on me. She asked me about the pain, and I saw her pushing the painkiller button several times. I drifted off.

Both men were seemingly unmoved when I roused again. I could see from the slightly opened shades that it was dark outside. Both of my hands were still warmly enveloped.

“How long was I out that time?” I asked.

Stephan seemed to be dozing, but Justin had his eyes open. He looked like he was praying over my hand.

“Fourteen hours,” Justin said, and kissed my hand. “I think you’ve taken ten years off my life this week.” He reached to punch a button, and I knew he was calling for the nurse again.

It was a different nurse this time, I absently noted, as she left after checking and medding me. They had both been pleasant and quick. I wondered if the hospital always had such good service, or if this was the Justin Cavendish effect.

“You don’t have to stay here,” I told him, as I began to drift off again. He sent me such a hurt look that I tried to take it back even as I sank into a drugged sleep.

Days went by like that, floating in and out of consciousness while my body healed. It was five days before I was up and about. And even then it was a limited amount of activity.

I had a severe concussion, some internal bleeding, and some badly bruised ribs. From the way they felt, I found it hard to believe they weren’t broken. I hated to imagine what they would feel like if they were actually broken, if this was what bruised felt like.

I found out from the doctor that I would be in the hospital for several more days, under observation. All of my injuries were painful, but survivable. I was lucky, I knew. It could have been so much worse.

I had several visitors. The rest of our crew even visited once, pilots included. They wished me well, and chatted pleasantly about nothing important. Neither of the men at my side even offered their spots to the other visitors. I wasn’t surprised.

Justin’s hand tightened on mine once, when Damien reached down to pat my leg. I knew Damien was just being friendly. He would have patted my hand, probably, if they weren’t both already taken.

Justin and Stephan never wandered far from their seats at my side, day or night. Occasionally, they took turns sleeping on a tiny bed that folded out from the wall in the far corner of the room. I couldn’t imagine either man was getting much sleep on the uncomfortably hard looking bed. It was both heartwarming and baffling to me, these two amazing men that insisted on watching over me, completely unconcerned for their own comforts.

A neat, business-like blond woman kept coming in and out of the room, silently handing Justin his phone, or his laptop, or even the occasional stack of papers. I supposed that was how he was able to spend so much time at my side.

“You don’t have to stay here,” I told him. “I understand that you have work to do.”

He just gave me a dismissive glance, working on his laptop.

I was nearly recovered enough to be discharged before Stephan brought up the attack again. “Why did he come after you again, after all these years?” he asked in a hushed voice. Justin was dozing in his bedside chair.

“He mentioned something about people asking questions about him, people that he didn’t know. He saw me in the tabloids, I suppose, and blamed me. He also seemed to think that dating a rich man would make me more likely to get brave and go to the police about him.”

“This was my fault,” Justin spoke, making me start in surprise. His face was ashen. “I’m so sorry.”

I arched a brow at him. “That’s a bit of a stretch. And, anyways, my father wasn’t wrong. I am feeling brave now.”

Justin tried to get me to explain what I meant, but I wasn’t sharing anymore. And there was nothing to share with Stephan. He already knew everything.

I caught the tail end of a hushed conversation as I woke up one morning, days later.

“I think that will do more harm than good,” Stephan was saying to Justin. “She won’t like it. Just give her time, Justin. I know it’s hard, but you’ll have to be patient.”

“What’re ya talkin’ bout?” I mumbled, as my brain crawled out of sleep.

Both men looked a little guilty at being caught discussing me, but neither answered.

“Spill it, Stephan.”

He sighed. “Justin would like to take you to a quiet place to heal. He was suggesting a place on the beach, maybe. And we were trying to figure out how to handle the media circus that seems to follow Justin around.”

I went from groggy to alert as he spoke.

Justin gave me a very solemn look. “I can’t tell you how much I didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire of my media circus of a life. That is the entire reason that I wanted to keep our relationship quiet, at first. I was suggesting that I release a statement about our relationship so it’s clear that you and I are together and exclusive. And that Jules is and only ever has been a friend of mine. I hate the implication that you are usurping on her territory. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

I pulled my hand away from Justin, then raised it when he tried to protest.

“Stephan, give us a moment, please,” I said solemnly.

He left without a word, beating a rather hasty retreat.

Justin’s jaw had clenched, and he looked angry and pleading all at once. “Please don’t shut me out, Selena,” he said quietly.

I took a deep breath. My chest hurt. It wasn’t just from the fists that had marked it. It was a deeper pain. “Justin, this has all happened too quickly. I need to take a step back.”

He looked down, hiding his pain-filled eyes, that lovely mouth twisting in a heart-wrenching way. “Please.” His voice was quiet. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you. What can I do?”

I swallowed past a very thick lump in my throat. “Just give me time, please. Things between us happened too fast, and everything that’s happened since has just made me realize that. I can’t think when we’re together. You just sweep me up and I seem to lose all semblance of sane thought. I don’t know that I can be a part of your life, or that I can even accept whatever little piece of it you would carve out for me.” I could tell he wanted to argue, but I quieted him with a look.

“Just give me some time,” I finally repeated. “That’s all I ask. We can discuss this thing we have in a few weeks, maybe a month, if you still want to. Frankly, I half-expect you to just move on in that time.”

He looked very angry now, but he studied me, and I could see that he tried to tamp it down.

“Please have more faith in me than that,” he said quietly. “Will you at least allow me to call you? Or even text you?”

I closed my eyes, wanting to go back to sleep, wanting to cry like a baby. “I’ll contact you,” was all I said.

He clutched my hand. “It feels like you’ve already written me off. I wish I knew the words to say to help you understand how serious I am about you.”

There were tears in his voice, and it broke my heart. But he didn’t really try to find any of the words. He never spoke of love, or even how much he cared. It made it easier for me to do what needed to be done. It helped me to tell myself, We barely know each other. This could all mean nothing to him in a month. If he had said he loved me, I might not have been able to manage it.

“I haven’t written you off. I just need time, and space. As you’ve seen and heard, I’m going to be fine. I’ll be released from the hospital anytime now. Today, probably. Stephan will take care of me after that.”

I kept my eyes closed. It was so much easier to say the words when I wasn’t looking at him.

“Goodbye, Justin,” I told him, my voice oddly thick. It was a dismissal.

He kissed my forehead. I felt him watching me for long minutes. Finally, after a suspenseful wait, he departed.

I felt tears slip down my cheeks, but only after he’d gone.

Stephan re-entered some time later. I suspected he had walked Justin out. He came right to my side, seeming to know, without a word from me, what had transpired. “Are you okay, Selena?”

I nodded. “I want to get out of here. And I’m ready to talk to the police, Stephan. I’m going to tell them everything.”

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