#like ????? and now I’m supposed to believe someone saying this randomly with no evidence the album is actually coming??

[sadaveniren]

Any thoughts on the latest dm rumor about HS4 being a proper break up album. I know, massive grain of salt and we've had plenty of album rumors thus far that haven't eventuated but if this one's true will it make you think a certain way?

…..anon we were supposed to get this album at the end of March, end of April, end of May, end of June, end of July and now probably some time in Q4.

We don’t even know if Harry has a record deal currently, considering his first record deal with Columbia was Very Publicly 3 albums - he’s now released 3 albums - and we haven’t gotten any reports of him signing any new deals with Columbia (or anyone) since.

Before I can even begin to give a shit about what this album is supposed to be about I have to actually trust that this album is coming any time soon. Which. I don’t. So like. Jot that down.

[astudyinfreewill]

sigh. hello supernatural fandom, i see a new s16 episode has dropped.

i just. want to make it very clear that despite whatever endearing cas-related details may be found in the 15x19 and 15x20 scripts, like... the scripts are still shite? not that the episodes themselves are not complete and utter shite, but the scripts simply aren’t any better. i’m sorry, they’re just not.

just going in order of the things of note i’ve seen:

15x19

dean and michael’s short conversation about fathers is kinda neat, but ultimately pointless - it was to death (and better) in s5, and it adds nothing to an episode where michael comes back just to betray the boys, get called a cuck, and die

jack suddenly, randomly being able to ~absorb God Energy™️~ is still dumb as fuck, even if we were shown a clip of it happening before the biG rEvEaL 

...okay, okay, i’ll concede: i DID get emo about it being explicit in the script that it was cas who changed dean’s mind about himself with his speech in 15x18. and on one hand, i cannot fucking believe bucklemming randomly gave us one (1) right. but on the other hand it’s like... literally nothing. we pieced it together because it made implicit narrative sense, but cas’s impact is never acknowledged in words. literally if we didn’t have a degree in “reading the jackles microexpressions” it might have never landed.

jack hugging dean and sam before leaving would’ve been cute but it doesn’t make his sudden decision to leave any less frustrating. they spent seasons complaining about an absent god that wasn’t close to humans... and then they ended with the kid they supposedly raised losing his human part and removing himself from the narrative. how’s that different? riddle me that while you’re hanging out in every blade of grass (and maybe i’d care more about jack if he wasn’t literally constantly written as a plot device and schrödinger’s family)

cannot EXPRESS enough how bafflingly infuriating and tragic i find it that the boys’ “happy ending” included LITERALLY every one of their friends dying or being removed from their lives???? are ya winning, sons???

15x20

THAT CAST LIST THOUGH. how are you gonna plan on bringing back jody and rowena and eileen in the finale and NOT CAS? i love all those ladies to death, but none of them were the show’s third lead for a decade. literally HOW. and don’t get me started on how JENNY NOLASTNAME is billed higher than any of them

“WHAM! Sam SHOVES the pie into Dean’s face!” actually go eat a dick andrew

dean worrying over miracle: again, cute, but pointless, given the ending dean gets

“if cas(s) was here-” “he’s not”. what is this?? why the insistence on sam bringing cas up and dean shutting it down?? i swear the only two ways of reading this are “dean randomly stopped giving a shit about cas after cas came out to him” and “dean is actively suicidal over cas dying and can’t bring himself to talk about it” and they BOTH suck. also “if cas was here” HEADASS... AMBULANCES ARE STILL A THING FUCKING CALL 911

i’m sorry listen i don’t mean to be a cold-hearted bitch but. are we supposed to... be emotionally distraught about sam calling jody/rowena/au!charlie/eileen, and telling them about dean’s death? first of all, as long as you’re bringing the actresses on set, WHY not have them at the funeral. but also like. jody, sure, i get it. rowena... she definitely had more of a bond with sam, but sure, i’ll take it. au!charlie barely even knew them. would she really be distraught??? 

and don’t get me started on how spectacularly STUPID it is to show sam calling eileen, and having eileen break down over losing one of her family - evidently someone she considered close to a brother-in-law due to her relationship with sam - and then just NEVER SHOW HER AGAIN. and that was a WRITING CHOICE - she was not simply erased in post production, the script straight up SAYS we don’t know who sam ends up with at the end. why bring her back at all then??? why write her into the story?? are we supposed to infer sam broke up with her on that same phone call???

sam’s kid “joined the family business too”... oh so sam didn’t get a white picket fence ending? oh so dean’s ~sacrifice~ wasn’t so sam could have a normal life? oh so sam didn’t forget about eileen because he wanted to get away from hunting bEcAuSe iT’s wHaT dEaN wOuLd wAnT? so there was literally no reason for ANY of it to go that way???

god, what a shitshow. anyway, this leaves me with two certainties: one, that yeah, choices were absolutely made in filming/editing/post-production to remove any and all reference to cas. and two, that even BEFORE that, the scripts erased cas and eileen all on their own. now, i know there was talk of the last two scripts being rewritten several times, and i don’t know what pressures (if any) were made on the writers. but the fact is it was written that way. they CHOSE to write jody/rowena/eileen/au!charlie into the final episode and not cas. they CHOSE to remind us of eileen only to make it clear she would not end up with sam. they CHOSE to write that dean would get no emotional resolution with cas, and would die a pointless death only for sam to keep hunting while also living an unremarkable, miserable, fast-forward-montage life. sure, i blame the network and producers, but don’t talk to me about how good the dabb era writing is. just don’t. 

[yuzukult]

i’m bad too 15 || kdy & reader

title: i’m bad too - drabble series pairing: kim doyoung x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, goodboy!doyoung, nerdy!dy (basically he’s a dork) & badgirl!reader, hitman!au, oc-isn’t-a-hitman-but-she-could-be!au, word count: 1.8k warnings: none !! a/n: a “leading” chapter, before something actually happens! so, not the most exciting, but... yeah. :D

please let me know if anyone wants to be tagged! taglist: @wownajaemin​​​​ @crescent-iak​​​​ @ncttboo​​​​ @byunbaekby​​​​​ @jinfizz​​ @doyoungyoung​​ @ahgayeah0305​​ @doyobun​​ @sexualitaeyong​ @mrkleelvr​​ @m1ss-foodi3​​

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If it’s one thing you’ve learned about yourself, it’s that you hate when Ten chews his food with his mouth open. He chomps it like a cow munching on grass, and sometimes, he even makes those weird wet sounds if the food is soft and squishy enough.

But after laying in a hospital bed for a week, unable to speak, you’re missing the ability to call your big brother ‘disgusting’ across the table, toss something in his direction, and him opening his mouth to show the contents of his dinner inside.

“Are you fucking insane? You let her go into hellfire, knowing damn well she wasn’t protected?” The voice is familiar, loud, and straining, like they’re on the verge of tears but too instilled with anger to let the sadness seep through. “I thought I said to keep her fucking safe if you wanted to work together.”

“I don’t work in the field, Ten. I don’t control what happens at the moment.”

“Yeah, but you set the commands. You give the orders. She’s fucking on her deathbed, Taeyong—“

“Don’t fucking say my name in public,” he hisses through his gritted teeth. “Listen. If it’s not her, it’s me.”

“I’d rather it be you.”

“You need me, Ten. Who is gonna do the dirty work for you? Look at those pretty fingers. You wouldn’t hurt a soul. But your sister—you know damn well she’s got potential to be more. This is just a hurl she’s jumping over. When she recovers—“

“You’ve got to be fucking insane, you think I’m gonna let her go back out there when you put her in harms way?”

Before the conversation could continue, you hear the door click shut, and the shuffling of flat shoes tapping against the cold tiles, reaching to your bedside. You can’t see, your body won’t let you fully awaken, and you can’t speak with this tube lodged in your throat. But the whiff of the cologne that comes hits your nostrils is a familiar one. It’s Doyoung.

He sighs, like he’s been troubled and you can’t even blame him. You told him not to worry, that you’d stay safe, and here you are—unable to move, unable to wake up, unable to breathe on your own, and unable to talk.

You hear his moments; the scuffing of his oversized denim jacket against the leather seat by your bed, browsing through the drawers with each push and slam until he finds what he’s looking for, and when you hear the television turn on, you could only assume it was for the remote.

“I wonder if they have Marvel movies playing,” he says, seemingly to no one in particular until you realize he’s speaking to you, in spite of the fact that you’re very much in a deep sleep. “I know they’re not your favorite, but you tolerate it. I never got to ask what kind of movies you liked. I… I guess I was being a little selfish when you gave me attention that I never considered to ask.”

You wanna tell him that you actually don’t even like movies, in fact, you prefer sitcoms in spite of your very evident opposite personality. If you could, you would tell him that you watch those superhero movies because he’s into them, that if you get to see that pretty little smile on his face, it makes you forget all your problems and… the moment is worthwhile.

Warmth reaches your fingers, and you could only assume that it’s Doyoung holding your hand. It’s a familiar feeling of home, like you’re meant to be here with him, except the current setting isn’t necessarily favored.

“Do you like Spongebob?” He asks, as if you could even respond. “Mm. Doesn’t really seem like your thing, but I feel like you’re the type to not look like you enjoy it, but you actually love it because it’s annoying.”

He’s… right. You want to laugh, genuinely laugh because Kim Doyoung is spot on with his prediction. He knows you better than he gives himself credit for, because he doesn’t change the channel and watches the TV with you.

“I bet you like sitcoms,” Doyoung mentions randomly, eyes still on the screen. “Like maybe not Modern Family, but maybe like… Parks and Rec. You don’t seem like you’d enjoy the Office too much, maybe Michael Scott is too much of a character but Andy Bernard looks like a guy you’d scare to the point he’d piss his pants, but you’d like him.” Again, you think to yourself. Because Doyoung got it right yet again.

He’s quiet for a bit, letting Spongebob play in the background and you could hear the conversation between Spongebob and Patrick. Truthfully, you don’t know what’s actually happening, but the feeling of being with Doyoung like this, hand in hand with something stupid playing on TV is your favorite.

It’s casual. No missions, no guns, no family business—just you and Doyoung.

Doyoung doesn’t say much on the day you finally wake up. With a tube wedged down your throat, it’s difficult to have a two-way conversation anyways, and seeing you like this probably breaks his heart, so any word that leaves his mouth might be with a stutter and a sob.

Spongebob plays on the television for another hour before Doyoung eventually breaks the glass of quietude, letting out a soft chuckle at something Patrick said. “Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, glancing over at you. “Wasn’t sure if you liked Spongebob.” Although you can’t speak, the soft squeeze of his hand gives away your approval, and a gentle smile tugs on his face.

There's another moment of silence, just before Doyoung lowers the volume of the TV before gathering enough courage to talk. It takes a lot to get himself to speak up against you, someone he sort of feared yet at the same time had strong feelings for.

“I know what you do,” he announces, eyes never leaving the flickering screen with cartoon characters under the deep blue sea do stupid things, unmatching to what he wants to say next. “I can’t say that I totally get it, because I don’t. I’d be lying if I said I did, but… you do those things, and I’m not a hundred percent sure what to make out of it, but I get why it was hard to confess… those things.” He runs his fingers through his greasy locks, accumulating in oils from how long he’s stayed here without going home to shower. “I kind of thought I was going to date someone really simple one day, yaknow? Settle down with a girl who has a job, sweet and kind, with the same end goal in mind. Get married, have kids… all that fun stuff.”

Your nose twitches at that. Because you’re definitely not that.

“But then I met you, which is… well,” he lets out a faint laugh, “... the complete opposite of all of that. You’re dangerous, cold, and oftentimes, I’m left hanging by a thread, confused on what we are and what I actually mean to you.”

If you could, you’d interrupt him right then and there. Tell him your sorrys, belatedly confessing your true feelings for him, let him know you’d be better for real this time, but truthfully, you’re not sure if he’ll believe you anyway.

“And I could just drop everything right now. Just get up, leave, move on. Tell you that I don’t want this anymore, that whatever you’re in, I don’t wanna be roped in and get involved in your baggage.” It’s like you could hear the cracking of your heart as it falls into the depths of your stomach because your chest feels empty when he says that. The worst part is when you can’t defend yourself, tell him that it’s not like that, but in the end, Doyoung does it for you.

“Yet, I’m still here, right? Because I don’t get you, I don’t get whatever it is you got yourself caught up in, but… after knowing, it oddly makes me… trust you more. So, I’ll stay.”

“Fuck,” Ten curses underneath his breath, getting slightly frustrated with the wheelchair being caught on the steps of your home again. “Fucking shit, nothing here is disability accessible.”

It’s still hard to talk, but a weak laugh escapes from your lips.

“Don’t laugh, you’re the one in the wheelchair not doing shit.”

When he gets you through the front door, and into the hallway, you can’t help but stare at Ten curiously. He furrows his brows at this, hands at his hips with a gesture of his chin. “What’s in your head?”

“Uh,” it’s straining to speak, but if not now, it’s never. “I overheard a conversation when I was asleep. I-I don’t know if it was a dream or… I don’t know. But I heard you talking to someone, uh, someone particularly… with a reputation.”

His body goes rigid.

“Right,” you state, feeling more confident that the discussion was definitely not a dream. “So this entire time, you’ve been working with the organization?” Ten only sucks his cheeks, unable to formulate a proper rebuttal, so you take advantage of this. “This whole time, you let them constantly probe and ask me to be part of them—”

“I told him not to—”

“Well, he’s been asking, Ten, and he hasn’t stopped. I got contracted to be part of them temporarily, not permanently. This was supposed to be a one and done deal, you realize that, right?”

He scoffs. “You think that anything you do with Lee Taeyong could just be easily brushed under the rug? Hell no, you have to be insanely rich to pay off that guy. He thinks you’re talented, you know? What do you think this is?”

“I could just get up and leave—” “In your fucking dreams, kid,” Ten lets out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking his head. “I agreed to work with him before I knew that you were already contracted with him. There’s shady people in the business. There’s so many messed-up dudes who would bend the laws to get what they want. I don’t want that, but I have to protect myself.”

“But—”

“Wanna hear something, kid? Taeyong doesn’t think this accident,” Ten gestures to your wounds, heart tightening at the sight of you in pain. “... this accident, is just… it. He calls this an obstacle. He thinks this is just a bump in your progress, something you need to overcome before you hop back into the field and start training all over again. He’s not gonna let this go, doesn’t matter if I’m his client. Fuck, kid, he has a shit ton of clients.”

Uneasily, you grip onto the wheels of your seat. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“It’s your loss, kid. Either kill Taeyong and take his seat or you gotta work for him.”

[scuttle-buttle]

Sleeping With the Enemy

Chapter 2

Summary: Catherine Sinclair is the younger, estranged half-sister of renowned F1 driver James Hunt. Things get a bit complicated when she decides to reenter James’ life and ends up meeting his rival - Niki Lauda. Engines ignite as Catherine finds herself caught between her feelings for Niki and the rivalry that the two men share. Will she pump the brakes or let herself crash in the inferno?

Pairing: Niki Lauda (Rush 2013) x fem!OC Catherine Sinclair

WC: 979

Rating: E 18+ for eventual smut

T/W: language, eventual smut, hot second of accidental implied incest (but there is none), rivalry, mentions of substance use, F1 racing, flirting 

You never really had an interest in racing or F1 growing up. In fact, you maintained that you had no interests or talents as a child. That's why when you turned 18 you left home; to find myself, you'd told your mother. You had a bit of a rough patch, so to speak, from the time you left until you were about 20. After all, it was the early 70s. Sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll were all the rage. You even spent a summer as a groupie for the Rolling Stones on their European tour. 

After a few years of going non-stop you decided to settle down. Your father paid for university and you degreed in Medieval and Renaissance Art. You had yourself a nice little flat in Bologna and worked in one of the art museums. But through it all you never returned to your family. 

Your poor mother. She worked hard to provide for you. Your father wasn't in the picture -  at least not until he found out about you. At the age of 13 your mum reached out to him to confess that the affair between the two had produced a child. He tried to bring you into his own family. A doting wife and step siblings all on the path to great success. He provided anything you could ever need, but you never felt that you fit in. You weren't destined to be some hot shot doctor or barrister. 

The only one of your siblings you felt close with was James. He was 15 when you ‘joined’ the Hunts. In secret you would talk about your dreams and fears with each other. How the two of you were just different. James was the only one you truly believed was your family. That is, until you decided to leave. Naturally he didn't want you to go, as adventurous and daring as he was himself. You hadn't spoken much in the years since. 

When you heard he'd finally made it to the big leagues and gotten himself a drive with McLaren you felt so proud. Pushing down your own pride, you made it your mission to find and see him race when there was a local grand prix. Thus, here you were today.

“Catherine,” Niki tested your name in his mouth. You felt heat rise in your cheeks at the intensity of his expression. I suppose everything you do will be pretty intense with a job like this though?

Before you could respond there was a bellow from behind you. “Kitty? Is that you?” 

You cringed at the old nickname. James jogged up to you and put his hand on your shoulder, shaking you with joy at seeing you after so many years. “I came over to rib the Rat King and look what I find! I didn’t know you were coming!” While you were elated to finally be with your brother again you felt the sudden anxiety come creeping back in. Would he be mad that you had been gone for so many years, only to randomly show up at a race?

“Yeah it uh… it was pretty last minute...” You cleared your throat. “But when I heard about your drive I figured it was about time.” James’ hair was longer than you remembered, your father always insisting he kept it short when you were young. 

“You look good,” his tone softened, hand squeezing your arm. “I hope Niki isn’t giving you any shit. He’s always so serious all the time.”

Niki cocked his shoulders. “I’m a serious guy. I go to bed early, look after myself, look after my car.”

“Yes, you’re very well behaved.” James rolled his eyes.

“Go to work, kick ass, then after the race I go home instead of going to bars and doing all this bullshit with all these assholes,” he gestured around. 

“Assholes?” James’ eyes narrowed.

“Alright, boys, that’s enough,” you said while crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows at James.

The two drivers shared a look. Turning to you, James asked “I have to get back, but you’ll stop by, yeah? I want to see you again.”

“Yeah I'll swing by in a bit,” you nod.

Niki watched the interaction with annoyance. Here he was thinking that he had met the one woman that didn’t swoon for Hunt. He had also never seen his rival so… soft when talking to a woman. You must be someone special to him. Instantly he felt the jealousy rise in his chest. 

Hunt left the two of you and headed back to the celebration. Niki was giving James a death glare. Now that your brother was gone you hoped to pick the conversation back up.

“How do you know Hunt?” Niki questioned abruptly. 

“Oh we um…. we’ve known each other for years. Our families are pretty… close...” You didn’t like the line of questioning into your family problems. You changed the subject, hoping that he will drop his own. “So you were saying something about visiting the garage?” you chewed your lip.

Niki glanced at you with surprise evident on his face. He hadn’t expected you to want to visit with him after the interaction with Hunt. If you were involved with him he did not want to put himself in that situation either. “I’m sure you would rather spend your time with him,” he gestured between you and the direction James had travelled in.

You visibly shuttered and nearly shouted out “oh god - no, NO.”

Maybe she isn’t fucking Hunt then, Niki hoped. He was pleased and amused with your response. “I have precision testing with Ferrari on Thursday in Maranello. Be there at 10. Tell them you’re with me and they won’t give you shit.”

Studying his face for a brief second, you decided to live a little, “yeah alright.” 

You smile at him and turn to go find James. “I’ll see you Thursday, Catherine,” Niki called after you.

“Have a good night, Niki,” you threw over your shoulder.

Tag list: @ay0nha @apparrio

[twdmusicboxmystery]

TWD 11x02: The Talking Dead

Okay, I DO have a details post, which will go up tomorrow. Because Emily was a guest on TTD this week, I thought it would be more important to post this first this week.

P.S. Apologies for the low quality of the pictures. I wasn’t able to get my usual screenshots this week, so I had to take pics of my TV. ;D

Right off the bat, let me say there weren’t any huge, smoking guns about Beth’s return in the episode. In other words, not much that the general audience (GA) would pick up on.

But we’re not the GA, are we? LOTS of suspicious dialogue and symbolism came out of this. Way more than we usually get from TTD. So, let’s dive right in.

The first thing was in the introduction. When Chris Hardwick was introducing his guests, as he always does, he used the phrase, “Beth is back!” That sort of thing always catches our attention and makes us side-eye.

@wdway​ observed that Emily’s outfit was a mixture of black and white/cream colors, Xs, and diamond patterns. In the past, I might not have been entirely swayed by that. (We’re assuming she chooses her own clothes, right?) But there have been too many times in the past when similar things have happened. Like for the S8 premiere when she wore that bright pink top that looked exactly like the pink bra ashtray in Still? Yeah, I’m no longer convinced Emily ISN’T dropping hints through her clothing.

It was also observed that her hair was very long. Whether extensions or not, it was very long (Beth length) and very blond. Might have been another hint.

One of the first questions Chris asked he was what she thought of Maggie’s SURVIVAL. That’s important both because it’s a question about someone who was left for dead surviving and also because Maggie crawling under the train was a direct parallel to Glenn, who was a direct parallel to Beth. So I was definitely side-eyeing that.

At one point, Chris referenced the Commonwealth interrogating people before letting them in, and he asked if Hershel had done that at the farm, would Rick’s group have made it past the screening process. Emily, overall, said yes. But Josh (McDermott who was on with her) said Shane wouldn’t have. They then started talking and making typical fandom jokes about Shane’s craziness.

The reason this made me smile is because Emily often deflects questions by saying she doesn’t remember, or doesn’t know, or that she no longer keeps up with the show. But here, she talked about specific characters and events in specific parts of a season 9 years ago as though she’s VERY familiar with it. It was like, “oh, but that character didn’t do that until minute 32 of episode 8 of season 2. But I don’t know. I don’t really keep up with things anymore.”

Okay, I’m totally exaggerating there. She wasn’t that specific. But that’s what it felt like. The little fibs she tells to keep people from suspecting Beth’s return are showing.

In talking about the significance of Maggie giving Negan a gun, Lauren said something kind of interesting and Beth-ish. She said, and I paraphrase, that Maggie is struggling to hold onto the person she was, rather than giving into who she might become. Just very reminiscent of Beth’s line to Daryl from still. “You gotta stay who you are, not who you were.”

Chris then asked what Beth would have thought of the current Maggie. And he asked specifically, “Would she even recognize her?” Now, of course he meant that in terms of recognizing who she’s become, because Maggie has changed so much as a person since Beth’s death.

But given the memory loss theories and all the surrounding evidence, we really think there’s a good chance Beth won’t recognize Maggie right away. So that was a huge hint to drop.

See what I mean? It’s not that they talked about Beth’s return in a huge, smoking gun sort of way. Rather, they just dropped a lot of hints through dialogue and the way they phrased questions.

The other thing I noticed is that Emily, in answer to the question, said that without Maggie, everyone seemed adrift and as if they didn’t know what to do because they no longer had a leader (until Maggie showed up again) to tell them what to do. Especially since it didn’t directly answer Chris’s question, I felt like maybe Emily was hinting at Beth’s leadership. New sheriff in town, and such.

Then Josh brought the shiv to everyone’s attention. I don’t think I mentioned this yesterday. If not, it will be in tomorrow’s Details post. But we saw Eugene wheedle a piece of wood into a sharp shive/spike and stick it into his sleeve. It was very reminiscent of Beth hiding the scissors in her cast in Coda. And Josh specifically called attention to that scene. He actually compared it to Terminus, rather than Coda, because we saw them trying to create makeshift weapons in the train car in 5x01. But still, it’s all season 5 and revolves around Beth’s arc.

Actually, as they went along through the episode, they did callbacks to various things in S5 a BUNCH of times. Kind of convenient given that Emily is sitting on the couch next to him, no? Both Lauren and Josh mentioned Terminus multiple times in various ways. Which works because Eugene’s group has been around a lot of train cars these past few episodes. But the thing is, they didn’t really equate Eugene’s storyline directly with Terminus. They were simply finding ways/reasons to randomly mention it.

They also brought up Noah’s death multiple times, comparing Gauge’s death to it, since in both cases, people watched them die horribly from behind a glass partition. Totally makes sense, but yet another tie to Beth by really talking about Noah a lot.

Lauren, talking about good vs evil and what people are capable of, a la Maggie’s disturbing cannibal story, said it wasn’t just about what outward choices people make. She pointed to her chest and said, “it’s what’s in here.” That just gave me huge Beth feels from Still, when she said, “…or it kills you. Here.” And pointed to her chest in the same way.

It just felt like they were invoking Beth a lot during this episode.

This next one was kind of the big kahuna. Chris, just out of left field, looked at Emily and asked, “Will Daryl prove Beth right? Will he be the last man standing?”

And that’s important because it has nothing to do with this discussion or this specific episode. Daryl wasn’t even in this episode.

And I have to acknowledge that there’s a good chance Emily was supposed to be on last week, and her appearance was pushed. We just don’t entirely know what happened there. So possibly, they would have asked this last week during a more Daryl-centric discussion. But still, Chris didn’t say that. It wasn’t like, “Oh you were supposed to be on last week and we wanted to ask this…” No. He just launched into it.

Furthermore, Emily knew exactly what he was talking about. Yes, it’s a well-known line of Beth dialogue from Still that she probably would have been familiar with either way, but even so. The “will Daryl prove her right” came directly from Daryl’s origins episode. So again, despite “not keeping up with the show,” she clearly watched the Origins episode and knew what Chris was talking about.

A couple of suspicious things in her answer:

She essential said yes, that she believes Daryl will be the last man standing. But she also said she didn’t think he would be the ONLY last man standing. Then Chris made a joke saying (and I paraphrase), “Yeah, it’s not like Beth could have said, ‘Daryl, you’re going to get a spinoff.’” And they all laughed and joked about it.

Let’s consider her statement first. She said he wouldn’t be the only one who was standing last, but how would she know that? If she doesn’t follow it anymore and is only associated with it as a previous, deceased character, how would she know that.

And yes, you could argue that this was conjecture on her part, but she said with such…I don’t know, authority? As though she knows something we don’t.

I think you can interpret this one of two ways. The first is what I’ve hinted at above: that she knows others besides Daryl will survive to the end of the show. And I totally agree with her on that. While most of us believe, I think, that Daryl will live until the end, I think plenty of others will, too. Rick and Michonne. Probably Carol and Zeke. Hopefully Maggie, though I’m a little more worried about her. You get the idea. But once again, why would Emily know anything about that?

The other way you could interpret it is that this is a statement about Daryl not being alone. He’ll be the last man standing, but he won’t be the ONLY one. He won’t be alone in that, because Beth will be by his side.

And here’s your friendly neighborhood reminder that in an interview with Larry King prior to S5 airing, Gimple confirmed that Daryl will find love in the apocalypse at some point.

Then there’s Chris’s statement about the spinoff. Now, that came from Chris rather than her, but it was still a really random reference. For me, what Chris does or doesn’t know is kind of irrelevant at this point. I personally believe he knows everything and is fully in on Beth’s storyline. But even if I’m wrong about that, these questions come from tptb. If Chris recognizes their significance, he’s being instructed to ask them and direct the conversation in a particular way.

And they way he threw in this mention made it seem like he was equating Beth with the spinoff in some way. Even the way he said, “there’s no way Beth could have known to say…” the thing about the spinoff struck me as interesting. Because back then, I truly don’t believe the writers knew anything about the spinoff. As I like to say, everything changed when Kirkman abruptly ended the comics and the writers decided to pick up all the characters and story lines and move them to a different vehicle: the spinoff. Probably for legal reasons. But they couldn’t have know that would happen back in S4.

There’s also the unspoken implication that, while Beth couldn’t have “known” about the spinoff, she didn’t know about other things. Like her return and Daryl’s fate.

Emily even told a story about how when they were getting ready to film the porch scene for Still, both she and Norman were hounding Angela Kang (not the show runner back then, but the writer of that episode) about the last man standing line. They both wondered if it was some kind of foreshadow. She implied they were both worried that Daryl would die soon because of it.

A few things about that. 1) I don’t think either of them actually believed Daryl was soon to die. I seriously doubt that. This is just one of those stories they tell to illustrate a point. Which leads me to my next point. 2) Clearly they are implying that this IS some sort of foreshadowing. They’re just not being specific about what it foreshadows. 3) Keep this in mind--that they were both asking about what a certain line of dialogue might foreshadow--the next the time actors try to claim they have no idea what anything means or what’s going to happen next. They’re VERY aware of how the writers put these symbols in and are constantly wanting to know where the show is going, just like we are. 

So yeah. I was definitely a fan of that whole discussion.

The Inside the Dead portion referenced some interesting Easter eggs, including Gorbelli foods (seen in Tara’s backstory in S4, which had lots of Beth parallels) and Duane Jones Whiskey (alcohol, Morgan, etc; we’ve compared that with Beth before). Kinda small potatoes, but still important.

I missed part of this next question, but they asked Emily something about whether she thought the Commonwealth is going to turn out to be a good thing and helpful to Alexandria. She said no. Again, maybe not a smoking gun but given that we think she’s most likely coming through Eugene’s story line, it might have been a hint.

They asked her about the Eugene/Stephanie story line, and she said she was excited for any love story in this world. *coughs Bethyl hint*. She also said she’s suspicious of ‘Stephanie’ (emphasis mine) *coughs plot hint*.

For the quiz, they talked about how many walkers Dog killed in the episode (1). Where Mercer said he went to school (Westpoint). What was interesting, is that they kinda gave something away there. After giving the answer, it said, “Mercer didn’t go to school there, but the actor that played him did.” So, they kind of hinted that Mercer SAID he went to Westpoint, but was lying. Just more evidence that Eugene’s group is being lied to and manipulated. Finally, they had a fill-in-the-blank of Eugene’s dialogue. It was when he asked how he was being processed. And one of the options was “as in bologna and other meant stuffs…” (again, I’m paraphrasing; forgive me if my wording is a little off). Anyway, it said at that moment, Eugene was thinking about Terminus. So, just another callback to that story line in S5.

Near the end, Chris asked Lauren and Emily what they miss most about working together. Lauren’s replay was, again, suspicious. She said Emily was “such a bright light,” which we equated to Norman’s famous description of Beth as Daryl’s light that “went out.” She also talked about how it was a testament to Emily’s goodness that she’s “being so missed.” Which made me think of, “you’re gonna miss me so bad when I’m gone, Daryl Dixon.”

Finally, even before the episode aired, @wdway had a theory about Emily being in the studio for the episode, rather than via satellite. Well, I guess it was more of a hope than an actual theory. Now that the episode has aired, it’s an actual theory. 

See, she had a hunch that maybe the Commonwealth story lines (what Josh should be filming right now) might be filmed in studio, rather than on location in Georgia. And there IS an AMC studio in L.A. What we saw--Josh in person on the show while Lauren was there via satellite because she’s in Georgia--does seem to back up this idea. Or at least the possibility. 

The fact that Emily was also there in person could be a coincidence. But it could also possibly mean that she’s filming in studio for the Commonwealth story line as well. @wdway​ thought of this because we think she’ll first come through Eugene’s arc, and none of the Commonwealth stuff is being filmed on the main Alexandria lots where people generally look for spoilers.

Not something that can be proven either way, of course. But a great theory that I’m 100% behind! 

Okay, that’s it for TTD (but that was a LOT) and it makes me super happy. Together with the screeners not being able to talk about episodes moving forward, I think we’ll see Beth very soon. Any references in TTD that I missed?

[the-chocoholic-writer]

Madripoor

Zemo and Sarah’s time in Madripoor

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR EP3, violence, flirting, ect.

Words: 3527

“He’s just through that corridor.” The security guard points to a door down the large hallway. Sarah stand between Sam and Bucky as the guard stops walking.

“Alright. Give us a sec.” Bucky turns to the two as the guard walks off. “I’m gonna go in alone.” Sam and Sarah look at Bucky like he has lost the plot.

“Why?”

“Cause you’re Avengers. You know how he feels about that.”

“Buck it’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together.” Sam gestures to where Zemo is.

“This is dangerous Bucky... HE is dangerous.” Sarah states, looking at Bucky, concerned.

“He was obsessed with Hydra... We have a history together. Trust me...” He looks at them. “I got it.” He walks off before they can say anything.

“I hope he’s alright in there...” Sarah says to Sam, after Bucky leaves the pair alone.

“He will be... He’s Bucky.” Sam places his hand on Sarah’s shoulder and gives her a soft smile.

~Later~

“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail? Where the hell are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?” Sam shines a torch around the large empty room.

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing.”

“What we have is one of the most dangerous men in the world behind bars.”

“And we also have eight Super Soldiers that are loose.” Sam covers his eyes as Bucky shines the light at his face.

“Sarah how do you feel about this?” Sam turn to Sarah. Sarah quickly turns to Sam.

“I don’t think it’s safe to break Zemo out... remember what happened last time we dealt with him?” The pair look at Bucky.

“Exactly. Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds. Especially yours. No offence.” Bucky flips a switch and these large lights begin turning on. The three switch their flashlights off.

“Offense.” Bucky glares at Sam. “Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in. He is crazy, but he still has a code.” Bucky walks away from Sam and Sarah.

“I’ve been on the wrong side of that code, Buck, and so have you and Sarah. He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question. They didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but c’mon it’s pushing you off the deep end.” Sam takes a step forward as Bucky opens his arms.

“Sam, we don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are.” He sighs softly.

“This is a little too crazy Bucky... we will figure it out okay? We don’t need Zemo.” Sarah steps forward and gives him a soft smile and she rests her hand on his arm.

“Look, let me run you through a hypothetical. Can I run you through a hypothetical?”

“Bucky...” Sarah’s smile turns into a frown, as Sam turns to look at him.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t... do anything...” Bucky loos to the left, refusing to make eye contact.

“The weakest point in the system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards, and if two prisoners start fighting then the protocol says four guards have to respond.”

“So why would two prisoners start randomly fighting at that moment?”

“Who knows? There could be many reasons...”

“What I’m hearing is that you started it.” Sarah crosses her arms.

“The point is, these things escalate.  Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated, and with all those bodies flying around left and right, it wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two.” Sarah shakes her head and facepalms, exasperated. Bucky starts up again. “And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated... someone could use the chair to their advantage.” Bucky does a small shrug.

“I don’t like how causal you’re being about this. This is unnatural. Are you... And where are we, man?” Suddenly, a door loudly opens.

“Bucky, you didn’t...” Sarah gasps at him.

The three look over at a plastic curtain, seeing the silhouette of a man grow smaller the closer he gets, until HE emerges.

“Whoa. Whoa, whoa. hey! What are you doin’ here?”

“No, listen. I didn’t tell you ‘cause I knew neither of you would let this happen.” Bucky looks at Sarah, who is staring at Zemo, eyes wide, knowing memories of what he had done were running through her mind.

“What did you do?!” Sam gets in Bucky’s face.

“We need him, Sam... Sarah.”

“No, Bucky, this is crazy. Even for you!” Sarah growls, a glare plastered to her face.

“You’re going back to prison!” Sam points at Zemo.

“If I may...” The man in question begins.

“NO!” The three yell at him. He looks a little startled by the sudden synchronisation but nods softly and whispers out a small “Apologies.” Bucky turns to Sarah and Sam.

“When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you both backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your necks out for me. I’m asking you both to do it again.”

“I really think I’m invaluable...” Zemo once again interrupts. Sarah groans softly as Sam turns to him, with a glare.

“Shut up.” Zemo squints at him. Sam looks at Bucky and sighs, shaking his head.

“Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.”

Zemo makes a face for a second and nods.

“Fair.”

“I don’t like this...” Sarah looks at Bucky and Sam. The pair shrug and turn back to Zemo.

“Okay, Zemo. Where do we start?” The three look at him as he smiles.

“So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam looks at the large number of cars.

“These are mine. Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum.” Sarah, Sam and Bucky look around at all of his cars. “Because once it’s out there, someone can crate an army of people... Like the Avengers.” Zemo looks at Sam, his eyes flickering over to Sarah who stands beside Sam. “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” He grabs a large coat from the top of his car. “To do this we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.” He begins walking away from the trio and the car.

“Well, join the party. We’ve already started.”

“First still is a woman named Selby. Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.” Sarah looks at Sam and begins to follow Zemo, Bucky and Sam right behind her.

The four walk towards the door of a private jet where an older man stands, waiting.

“So all this time you’ve been rich?”the look of confusion on Sam’s face made Sarah giggle softly, to herself.

“I’m a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.” Sarah watches as Zemo and the older man talk in Russian, happiness and comfort evident on the Baron’s face. “Please.” Zemo gestures and leads the three up the stairs of the jet.

Once the four are in the jet, Sarah sitting across from Zemo. The older man explains the fridge is out.

“If it doesn’t pass the smell test... give it to them. But not the beautiful woman.” Zemo smiles as the older man laughs and leaves. Sarah zoned out of the conversation for some time, translating Zemo’s words and tries to figure out if he had actually meant to say beautiful or not. She is only snapped back to reality when she sees Bucky with his hand around Zemo’s throat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” Sam looks at Bucky expectantly.

“I like ‘40s music, so...” Bucky shrugs.

“You didn’t like it?”

“I liked it..”

“Trouble Man is amazing.” Sarah states.

“It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-America experience.” Sam and Sarah look at Zemo confused for a second before they turn back to Bucky.

“He does have a point.” Sarah agrees with the Baron.

“He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I liked Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” Sarah shakes her head softly, takes out her phone and headphones out and puts on some ‘calming’ music by Pan!c at the Disco, trying to delve into her own little world as she looks out the window of the jet.

~~In Madripoor~~

“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” Sam complains.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake names Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Zemo shows Sam a picture of the man he is impersonating on his phone as the four continue walking.

“He even has a bad nickname. Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“Well you aren’t the only one who hates this plan, Sam...” Sarah walks in between Bucky and the Baron, in a small black dress and black heels that Zemo had bought for her to wear. “Do I really have to wear this? And who the fuck am I supposed to be?” She looks at Zemo, an annoyed glare pointed at him.

“Yes, darling. And you are my fiancée, it would be too suspicious for a new face to show up without a specific reason. No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error.” Zemo states as a black car pulls up in front of them. He reached forward and opens the door for Sarah, who nods at him as she climbs into the middle seat, between Sam and Bucky. During the car ride, Zemo’s eyes flicker up to the mirror, watching Sarah. She notices his staring and she looks down, a soft blush covering her face. Suddenly, a group of motorbikes come out of nowhere, surrounding the car.

The car pulls up and Sam, Bucky and Zemo climb out of the car. Sarah turns to climb out after Bucky but an outstretched hand stops her. Specifically Zemo’s hand, waiting for her to take it. She reaches out and places her small hand in his and he helps her out of the car, wrapping his arm around her waist. Sarah tenses and he leans down, lips millimeters away from her ear.

“You’re my girl here, that’s your character.” He whispers huskily. The hand on her waist gives her a soft squeeze. She takes a small breath and leans against him, as the four of them walk along the walk above the large crowd of people.

As the four of them walk into the Princess Bar, Zemo’s grip on her tightens, pressing her close to him. The fur on his coat tickles her cheek and neck. “Here we are... Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?” Zemo asks as he leads Sarah, Sam and Bucky to the bar, still holding the woman’s waist. As the four make it to the bar, the bartender walks over, surprise written all over his face.

“Hello Miss, Gentlemen. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” The bartender looks at Zemo with suspicion, then looks at the Sam.

“The usual?” Sam nods.

“Ah... Smiling Tiger, your favourite.” Zemo says, watching the bartender cut open a snake, using it to make the Smiling Tigers usual drink.

“I love these..” Sam says with slight hesitation. Zemo lifts his drink.

“Cheers Conrad.” Zemo drinks his own as Sarah sips on her drink, watching the two. Sam hesitates, then takes the drink like a shot, giving the bartender a thumbs up.

A man walks up behind Zemo and as he turns, moves Sarah out of the way of any possible harm.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me...” Zemo gestures to Bucky.

“New haircut?” The man questions Bucky.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo watches the man. He looks at Zemo, then at Bucky, then Sam and lastly towards Sarah who is peeking out from behind Zemo’s protective stance.

“A Power Broker? Really?” Bucky looks at Zemo, obviously done with this situation.

“Every kingdom needs its king.” Zemo slides his arm back around Sarah, softly and sneakily massaging the small area on her waist. “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam questions.

“Only by reputation.”

“That doesn’t sound to good.” Sarah mumbles, taking another sip of her drink.

“It’s not. In Madripoor, he is judge, jury and executioner.” Zemo looks around the room and then turns back to the bar. “Winter Soldier. Attack.” The moment the man roughly placed his hand on Zemo, Bucky’s metal arm shot out, grabbing his wrist and twisting, pushing the man to the middle of the floor.

Sam, Sarah and Zemo watch as Bucky kicks ass left and right, causing not only damage to the people but to the furniture around him. Zemo leans close to Sarah and Sam.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo states. Bucky slams a man down onto the bar, then the sound of guns cocking. Sam and Zemo look around the bar at everyone and Zemo grabs Sarah, pulling her close, trying to protect her. Sam places a hand on Bucky’s arm.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo whispers to Sam, then he turns to Bucky. “Well done, Soldier.” The bartender watches as Bucky doesn’t let go of the man.

“Selby will see you now.” Bucky let’s go of the man, slowly.

“Thank you.” Zemo nods and gives Sarah’s waist a squeeze. Sam turns to Bucky.

“You good?” He says softly. Bucky looks at Sam quickly before following Zemo and Sarah. Sam following shortly after.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” The woman, Selby, state as the four enter the room.

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo sits down, Sarah sitting down on his lap.

“A lot has changed since you were here last.” Sarah decides at that moment to play the character she was given and rests her head on Zemo’s shoulder, playing with the ends of his hair, sneakily paying attention to the entire conversation. Sarah then slides off the Baron’s lap, he gestures for her to sit back where he was sitting and he walks over to Bucky.

“And I give you him.” He walks around, behind Bucky, who looks like a statue. “Along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.” Zemo runs his fingers over Bucky’s chin, softly grabbing and wiggling the end.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. However, I want something else to go along with him.” She smirks at the two men, slowly turning to look at Sarah, who is still sitting on the chair opposite her. “I want that pretty little thing as well.” Zemo walks away from the soldier and Sarah scoots out of the chair for him to sit, taking her original place in his lap.

“Not this one, she’s mine.” His hand cups Sarah’s butt and squeezes, as a way of staking his claim in front of Selby. Sarah, deciding she didn’t like the way the woman talked about her as though she’s an object, steps in.

“I belong to my Baron.” She runs her fingers through the back of his hair. Selby looks disappointed by gives Zemo the information about the Super Soldier Serum and a man called Dr. Wilfred Nagel.

“You can’t find Nagel without me.” Sam’s phone vibrates suddenly.

“Sam? Who’s Sam? Kill them!” Suddenly Selby is on the floor dead with a bullet wound and then chaos ensues. Bucky and Sam take out two of her bodyguards as Sarah pulls a knife out from under her dress and stabs another in between the eyes. She lets the body fall and hit the ground, turns to look at the three men who came with her, staring at her in shock.

“Did you three REALLY think I was coming HERE, defenceless??” Sarah rolls her eyes. The four move towards the exit.

“They’re gonna pin this on us.” Sam states, leaning against the door. Zemo sighs, as Sarah sheaths her knife, the three men’s eyes lingering on her exposed thigh.

“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.”

Bucky, Sam, Sarah and Zemo quickly leave the area, the sound of phones receiving messages going off all around them. Zemo’s arm is once again around Sarah’s waist.

“This is not good...” suddenly the light above them go out and multiple gun shots are heard. The four duck and Zemo turns and drags Sarah off down an alley, leaving Bucky and Sam.

“Zemo wait! I can’t run in the-“

Sarah trips, her eyes closed as she waits for the rough impact but instead feels the soft fur from Zemo’s coat. He caught me... the two stare at each other for a moment before Zemo picks Sarah up and continues running down the alleyway.

Finally they got to the end of the alley and turn the corner to see Sam and Bucky standing there, as a body falls.

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” He points out.

“Well this is too perfect.” The last person the four expected to see was Sharon Carter to walk out of the shadow. “Let go of Sarah and drop it, Zemo.” Zemo puts the gun down and lets of Sarah reluctantly.

“Sharon?” Bucky takes a step forward.

~~~~ skip forward to the party at Sharon’s~~~~

Sarah stands off to the side of the crowd still wearing the dress Zemo bought her. Bucky and Sam are talking as she looks around at the dancing crowd only to see Zemo...

Sarah let’s put a tiny laugh, shaking her head at the sight. When she looks back up at him, he is gesturing for her to come dance with him. Sarah thinks for a second before a goofy smile appears and she pushes off the bar and joins Zemo in the crowd.

“Those are so great moves!” She calls out to him over the crowd, he grabs her hands and continues dancing.

“Then dance with me!” He calls back, a large goofy smile on his face. The pair end up dancing and looking at some of the artwork together until they meet up with Sam and Bucky, waiting for Sharon.

“Hey, guys. I found him.” Sharon motions for the four to follow her. Sam turns to Bucky.

“Here we go.”

“Alright, he’s in there. Container four-two-six-one. Sarah and I will keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.” Sharon holds out her palm with five ear pieces for everyone. Sarah, Sam, Bucky and Zemo take theirs and Sharon leads Sarah away from the group, noticing how Zemo watches as the two disappear.

Minutes later, Sharon turns to Sarah.

“So, Zemo seems to have taken a liking to you?” She smirks.

“No he doesn’t.” Sarah shakes her head as she looks around, guarding the shipping container. “It was Allan act. I had to pretend to be his fiancée to get into the club.”

“It’s pretty obvious it wasn’t an act, when I showed up pointing that gun at him, he was being protective.” Sarah rolls her eyes as Sharon nudges her.

The pair are oblivious to the fact that their earpieces were still on and Zemo, Sam and Bucky could hear everything. Sam and Bucky turn slowly to glare at Zemo and if looks could kill, he would have been dead already. However he isn’t paying attention to the two, instead distracted by the voices in his ear and the burnin blush covering his cheeks.

~~~ After the explosion and Zemo’s scene of him kicking ass ~~~

Zemo pulls up in front of the group and shrugs.

“Supercharged.”

Bucky climbs in the passenger seat and Sam climbs in behind him, Sarah walking around the front of the car. Before she opens the passenger door behind Zemo, he opens his door.

“Come here for a second.” Sarah looks at him inquisitively but complies, standing in front of him. Zemo reaches up, grabs her waist and pulls her onto his lap, passionately kissing her for a minute, Sam complaining in the back. He pulls away and smirks, giving her a small wink. She blushes and he pats her ass, for her to climb into her seat. She does so in a daze and once she is buckled in, Zemo takes off.

[jaeminzie]

worth it | l.dh

↳ lee haechan x gender nuetral!reader

synopsis: having a turtoring session with fratboy!hyuck that you were bribed into turned into a cuddle session, but he definitely didn’t mind at all

genre: fluffff

word count: 2,123

you rubbed your head in frustration as the memory kept replaying in your head, making you regret your past decision. earlier in the day, lee donghyuck was practically begging you to tutor him for his upcoming exam. you were so set on saying ‘no’ because you very much disliked the guy but he began to wave fifty dollars in your face. and you, a broke college student, completely forgot about all the unfavorable feelings towards the boy and gave in.

but as hours passed by, you began to reconsider if spending time with donghyuck was worth fifty dollars. maybe if it were doubled then you wouldn’t be second-guessing your past decision. you looked at your phone to check the time, just to see if it was too late to back out now. and unfortunately for you, it was.

you let out a loud groan in the middle of the student café lounge area that you and your best friend, renjun, were relaxing in. “nice to see you doing well, y/n.” renjun took a pause from drawing on his sketchbook and looked up smiling mockingly at you to which you didn’t respond to in any way shape or form. the smile dropped and a wave of annoyance took over his facial expressions. “okay, what is it. are you hungry? you should’ve just aske-”

“i’m not always hungry.” you rolled your eyes at him and lowered yourself in your seat. “it’s donghyuck-”

“oh god. then whatever it is, that obnoxiously loud groan was valid.” he groaned with you. renjun never had a good impression on donghyuck because he didn’t brake his car for renjun when he was trying to walk across the pedestrian crosswalk, and donghyuck never said sorry nor look apologetic. instead, he just gave renjun trauma. he’s the reason why renjun always wait ten seconds minimum before crossing the street. although it gets annoying, his lost face before crossing reminds you of a cute kitten which makes up for the long wait. “what did he do this time?”

“he’s paying me to tutor him at his frat.” his face was evident in disgust and empathy. “i’m regretting saying yes because i’m too exhausted to deal with him.” you whined and put your face in your hands, rubbing it harshly in an attempt to wake yourself up.

“y/n, you are so strong.” he grabbed your hand away from your face and rubbed your hand awkwardly as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. “no but seriously, text me when he starts acting up. i’ll have jaemin with me for backup because i mean.” he lifted up his arms and tried to flex his arm muscles. key word: tried. “you know.”

you let out a chuckle, closed your eyes, and let your head fall back. “i’ll definitely be live texting you whenever he says and does something stupid.”

“so basically, what you’re saying is that you’ll be texting me every second. might as well have me on facetime.” 

you looked back at your best friend who was showing a toothy grin. “basically.” you checked your phone again and saw that if you didn’t leave now then you’d be late to the session. “fuck, i gotta get going. please wish me luck.” you lazily got up, got your bag and stood still in front of renjun with a face that was screaming ‘help me.’

“c’mon at least you’re getting paid, right?”

“you’re right, i need to stop being such a child.” you sighed and tried to erase every negative thought and feeling inside of you.

“kick his ass if he acts up though.” he raised an eyebrow at you.

you scoffed, “of course of course.” you sighed once again and pet renjun’s hair as you walked emotionless out of the student café and made your way to the bus stop.

donghyuck’s fraternity was only a couple blocks away and it honestly wouldn’t take long to walk there but you were too tired to even try.

the commute was quick but you wish it wasn’t. there you were, standing outside the door of regret. the outside was fairly clean but you knew that the inside would be a completely different story. you knocked a few times on the white door before a smiling donghyuck greeted you. “oh wow, you actually came.”

you fought back the urge to roll your eyes. “you’re welcome.” you both stood there awkwardly while he stared you down and you tried avoiding eye contact.

“oh sorry, come in.” he turned his body to make way for yours to enter his place. “i made sure we’re alone because it’s usually loud when the others are here. they’ll be back in a couple hours, though.” he scratched his neck and yawned while you examined the place. you were right, the inside was messy but to your surprise, it wasn’t too bad.

“yeah sounds good. it shouldn’t take too long” you turned to face him and gawked at his appearance. okay there’s no denying donghyuck is pretty decent looking, but he looks extra good today. he stood there awkwardly with his hands rested in the pockets of his oversized black jacket. his hair was slightly ruffled up, you can tell he just woke up from a nap. “you really thought i’d flake on you?” you raised an eyebrow.

his eyes wondered your facial features and marks. “i mean, you kinda hate me so.”

“i don’t hate you.” you corrected him. you may have a strong disfavor of him but you don’t hate him.

he smirked, his body seemed to relax a lot more. “then, let’s get started.” he walked past me and lead the way up the spiral staircase and into his room, which was surprisingly clean and well decorated with a tidy computer gaming set at the corner.

you set your bag right by the bed which you sat on. “so specifically, what are you struggling on?” you asked him looking at his figure that was leaned against his dresser a couple feet across from you.

“uh everything?” he let out a shy laugh and crossed his arms in front of him.

you decided not to scold him for always partying because truth is, you don’t know anything that’s going on in his life so you swallowed the upcoming insults that were climbing up your throat. “oh, well, we should get started asap then so we don’t finish too late.” you cleared your throat.

his eyes widened in surprise like he was expecting your usual witty remarks that he secretly loved, but you weren’t aware of his fondness for your attitude. “yeah for sure, let me get my stuff.” he hurriedly gathered his materials and set them on the bed next to me since he didn’t have a desk in his room. well, he did have his computer desk but there was definitely no room for books there.

he climbed on the bed and rested on his stomach and flipped the pages of the textbook, trying to find the first section he needed assistance on.

you kicked off your shoes and laid down next to him, but keeping your distance from him. he smirked slightly while still keeping his focus on the page. “you can scoot closer so you can see the book clearer.” he looked at you with innocent eyes.

in instinct, you rolled your eyes and scooted a bit closer to him. close enough to smell his cologne and close enough to see his moles randomly placed on his face and neck clearly. you took your attention away from his face when he suddenly made eye contact with you, catching you off-guard. 

his warm, soft bedsheets did no help in keeping you awake. you tried to focus on the words he was spitting out but every word entered one ear and went out the other as your eyelids began to feel heavier, and your vision slowly began to black out.

—

“dude what the fuck happened?” an unfamiliar whisper woke you up from your sleep but you ignored it, just trying to go back to your dreamland.

until you felt something absurd, someone’s warm embrace wrapped around you, your head was now resting on a pillow and an arm, and your cheek was rubbing against a wet patch of what you assumed was your drool on a white t-shirt fabric. “bro shut the fuck up, you’re gonna wake y/n up.” now, that was a familiar whisper to you. your heartbeat raced faster and faster as you made the conclusion that you were cuddling with the lee donghyuck. you internally groaned knowing that renjun will never shut up about this once you tell him. this will be his winning comeback for your future arguments. i mean, you could not tell him but what kind of best friend would you be if you didn’t inform him of the time you magically started cuddling with a man you disliked—but still enjoyed it.

“you better tell me everything later.” the whisper was a lot harsher than the first one, then silence followed after the unknown boy closed the door. you assumed he was gone but you waited to lift your head up to make it not obvious that you were awake to listen to their conversation.

“i know you’re awake.” donghyuck laughed above you, his chest rumbled against your cheek. “you stopped snoring a while ago.”

you groaned in annoyance and also in embarrassment. you slowly lifted your head up to look up at him and you were not ready to see the sight of him looking down at you with a soft smile and even messier hair, causing your heart to skip a beat. both your arms were still wrapped around each other, leaving no space between you both. “what the fuck.” you blurted out, not knowing what else to say.

donghyuck’s tired smile widened. “i should be the one asking you that. sweetheart, you’re the one who cuddled up to me first.” he enjoyed watching your face flush red in embarrassment, anger, and also by the way he looked at you so attentively. “you know, its quite rude.” he tightened his grip around you. “i’m supposed to be paying for a tutoring lesson.” he pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows, not breaking eye contact with you.

you remained looking at him with shaky eyes, not believing the situation you were in. your mouth opened, then it closed, then it opened to say something but donghyuck cut you off. “but this is so much better, my money well spent.” he sighed contently and closed his eyes, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head.

you could’ve protested or done anything to get out of his grip but your body stayed the way it is. “i didn’t even get to teach you one lesson, i’m sorry.” you were sincere with your apology, you wasted his time and now he’s probably gonna fail his exam if you two keep cuddling.

“i don’t care about that. i prefer this much more.” his eyes were still closed. you continued to admire his face and tried to memorize every single detail and placement of each mark. “hmmm, why don’t you take a picture?” he hummed, still keeping his eyes closed.

your hands made their way up his ear and pinched it. he let out a whine and finally opened his eyes which immediately landed directly on yours. “quit it.” you warned him.

“as you wish, darling.” his voice became lower and it almost sounded like a whisper. a soft smirk appeared on his face and his eyes were sparkling under the moonlight that shined through his window. “i love talking to you but i think i finally found something i love even more—sleeping with you.”

you opened your mouth to say something but his finger pressed against your lips to keep you quiet. he shushes you softly while he shuffled slightly to find a comfortable position, still keeping his embrace secure around you and his eyelids began to slowly drop. you admired his face once more before closing your eyes as well.

the question you asked yourself earlier today lingered in your mind before drifting off to your sleep again. is spending time with donghyuck worth fifty dollars? considering how warm he felt against you, and how you loved to hear his breathing and soft snores above you, and how perfect your body naturally molded into his embrace. you could finally answer the question confidently, yes.

[1111jenx]

When I read your power PAC readings, which is the fourth one of yours that I read today , I was like okay this needs to be addressed because it’s so scary accurate ( I basically just reblogged 5,6 of your posts on a different account ) . Did you learn tarot by yourself or are you in on some secret knowledge from generations because I am in AWE right now . I picked pile 3 , and my reactions were deadass like this : “ Hmm ok my heart DID beat faster and I may get a bit too excited when I see this PAC title , okay I spend many late nights lying on my bed and working with my laptop ( which is placed on a folded-up wooden table ) , when my back hurts then I indeed sprawled across my desk to work . Sure I wear glasses . Okay I’m a Capricorn Sun and air is dominant in my birth chart . And wow need for and fear of intimacy does not ring a bell at all lol . You said you see a group of 3 or 4 friends and that they exude power , and I have a group of 3 closest friends ( one is a Cancer whose territory is fashion and drama , one is a Neptunian who rules emotional interactions and all things artistic , one is a Scorpio who I still believe to this day is secretly a mafia leader . So yes , power) and that’s not including my very best friend who is a Plutonian who used to be in the group but now only hang out with me. 22 is significant to me because it’s the birthday of someone I care about and keep dreaming about even though we don’t see each other anymore”. This is basically a personal info dump and I hope it’s not too uncomfortable for you to read . I’m just very impressed and I want to express how much I admire your skills and enjoy your work, so I provide evidence lol ❤❤❤❤❤️Wonderful job as always and I wish you all the best ! ✨✨✨

Hiiii💗

Thank you for helping me end my insomnia with this sweetest review. Like literally I was in SUCH A RAGING MOOD before this and grumbly scrolled to my asks and saw this and now I'm literally joyfully chilling in my bed HAHAH (i think i just invented a phrase sksksk)

Anywaysssss to answer your question, I wish I was in a secret coven/organization bro like literally. but no I'm a self-taugh tarot reader❕😀 ❕HAAHAH and please don't worry at all about oversharing thats literally first name bae if anything I'm hella thankful to b confided in as a matter of fact 🤣🤣

Its always so nice to have readers leaving reviews saying how they resonate and further explain the meanings behind the small clues or signs that I'm receiving during the read!! Cus I'm not gonna lie sometimes I just randomly see a random bird or something of such and I then have to decode like what am i supposed to do with this info am i going crazy💀 LOL so I'm always grateful for detailed feedback and I hope y'all know that I read everyone of them and I (energetically) reply to them bc I can b v lazy and drained:D

Once again lemme just end this by saying that it is these reviews that push me forward and make me do better by my supporters LMAO, I'll pick my lazy ass up by the end of this week and work on a new PAC post for yall <3

Ilyyy,

saint jenx🪐

[magicalmarauder]

The Trouble with Love Notes

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3.9k+

Summary: You love showing your boyfriend that you love him by leaving him sweet, little notes for him to find in various places. However, when you overhear him talking to his friends about how clingy and obnoxious they are, how will he respond when those notes suddenly stop? Fluff/angst!

Grabbing the lunch bag on the seat beside you, you clambered out of your car, closing and locking the door behind you before turning to make your way into the studio where your boyfriend was currently working on his latest album. You and Shawn had been dating for about three years now and the two of you couldn’t be happier with where your relationship was at currently. The two of you had overcome a lot in the past few years and although you hadn’t necessarily enjoyed the trials that your love had to undergo, you were grateful that those things had strengthened and molded your relationship into something so beautiful and solid. Your mom had constantly reminded you growing up that when the person is right, those trials and hardships that you encounter suddenly don’t seem so earth-shattering. And that was advice that you had found to be absolutely true. Despite all the distance, rumors, outside opinions from fans, and so many other things, Shawn was the one for you. He loved you, challenged you, protected you, and encouraged you so well. Being his and being loved by him made up for all the bad days. He was your perfect counterpart and you were his.

However, as much as you loved that incredible man, one thing you decidedly did not love was his forgetful nature. You swore that boy would forget his own head if it wasn’t physically attached to his body. Hence, the reason why you were rolling up in front of the studio on your lunch break to deliver the lunch he had forgotten at home earlier that morning.

Shaking your head softly as you considered your boyfriends forgetful habits, you couldn’t help but be grateful for this particular instance. Because although you had to drive down here to deliver Shawn’s food so he wouldn’t go starving when trying to create another incredible album, you relished any extra opportunity to see him. With his crazy schedule that often took him to the opposite ends of the planet, you were thankful for the times he was close and you could pop in and see him, even if it was just for a short visit.

Opening the door, you smiled as you heard the sound of soft piano music playing and laughter as Shawn sat with his friends and co-creators of this album, attempting to envision lyrics to match this awesome melody they had created the other day.

Standing in the doorway, not wishing to interrupt, you merely watched your boyfriend, loving how passionate he was about his music. It was incredible to see him perform his songs and interact with his fans, but you secretly preferred this aspect of Shawn’s job even more. For one, it meant he was usually close to you, the studio he wrote in being only a few short blocks from your shared apartment. But mostly, you loved seeing him create. He possessed so much talent, for sure, but you just loved seeing him pour his heart into his songs and to see the smile on his face when he would nail a melody or put together lyrics that perfectly portrayed what was in his heart. You couldn’t really describe the feeling you got when watching him in his element, you just knew that your heart never failed to swell with love and pride at seeing him like this.

Your admiration was cut short however when Brian, who had been lying on the couch and throwing a tennis ball up and down in the air while listening to Shawn softly sing various different lyrics in search of the perfect one, noticed you standing there and greeted you. “Y/N! Welcome to Studio a la Shawn! What brings you here today?”

“Someone forgot their lunch,” you explained, holding up the bag with you as evidence.

“Aww,” Brian hummed in understanding. “Wouldn’t want our favorite rock star going hungry, now would we?” He grinned.

You returned the sentiment, chuckling softly. “No, of course not,” you teased, looking over to Shawn who had stopped playing and turned around to face you at the first mention of your presence.

“Ok, ok, enough you two,” he rolled his eyes, standing up and crossing the room to greet you.

You grinned up at him as he reached you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to himself. “Thank you for bringing me my food again, baby. What would I do without you?” He questioned, soft brown eyes boring into your own eyes.

“Starve, probably,” you teased, smiling innocently up at him.

He rolled his eyes as Brian barked out a laugh behind you two before pressing a quick peck to your lips and grabbing the bag out of your hands. “Are you going to stay and eat with us?” He questioned, going to place the bag down on a nearby table before returning to your side.

“No, I can’t,” you responded, heart melting at the pout he gave you in response. “I have to get back to work. I’m swamped today and have to get back soon if I want to get out at a decent hour tonight.”

Shawn sighed, disappointed, but understanding that your job was just as important as his and that it needed to come first sometimes.

“Ok,” he nodded. “Next time.”

“Definitely,” you agreed, lifting up onto your tip toes to press another kiss to his lips, smiling as he deepened the kiss, ignoring the groans and protests from the boys behind you.

“I’ll see you tonight, ok?”

“Ok,” you grinned, reaching up to press one last kiss to his cheek before stepping out of his grip.

Before walking out, you called out a goodbye to the team in the studio, receiving a mixture of responses in return. Smiling to yourself, you made your way back toward the front of the building where your car was parked, now re-energized to finish your work and get home to the love of your life. However, right as you were about to climb into your car, you remembered that you had forgotten to ask Shawn what he wanted you to pick up for dinner on your way home tonight. Contemplating whether you should go back in or simply shoot him a text, you re-locked your car, opting to go in and ask, hoping to maybe sneak in one more quick kiss before heading out.

As you made your way back into the studio, you were stopped dead in your tracks when you heard one of the recording artists you didn’t know quite as well mention your name, followed by several snorts of laughter. Unable to help yourself, you stopped in the hallway, trying to hear what was said of you that had garnished such a reaction.

“Does wittle Shawn need love notes from his mommy?” You heard one of the boys mock, making kissy noises.

Peeking your head around the corner, remaining careful to keep out of sight, you saw Shawn sitting at the table with his lunch opened in front of him and the boys gathered around him as one waved a piece of paper around, a scrap of paper that you had placed in Shawn’s lunch for him to find that morning.

One of your top love languages had always been words of affirmation and giving gifts, so you had combined those traits into one, loving to give encouraging notes to friends and family. It was something you had always done for as long as you could remember. Meeting and dating Shawn had only given you your favorite recipient in which to bequeath these little notes to. It was something you had done randomly when you had first started dating. Shawn had gotten home that day and kissed you silly, claiming that your note had given him the perfect pick-me-up in the midst of his very busy, stressful day and you had been leaving notes for him to find ever since.

“Shut up, man,” Shawn grumbled, ripping the paper from the guys hands and placing it in the front pocket of his skinny jeans, safety out of reach of any of the other men in the room.

Shawn’s flushed cheeks only seemed to encourage the group; however, as their teasing only picked up.

“Enough!” Shawn finally shouted. “It’s not like it’s my fault. I didn’t ask for her to leave these annoying little notes! She’s just clingy and can’t get it through her head that I don’t need her to constantly be up in my business all the time!” He scowled. “I didn’t ask for her to do this, man. But how am I supposed to tell her that she’s being obnoxious? That’s just not something you say to your girl!”

You were frozen in shock, unable to believe the words you were hearing from your boyfriend’s mouth. Shawn had never given you any reason to believe that he found your notes annoying. In fact, you had thought he quite liked them. Given his reaction after receiving the first one, you thought he found it cute? When did that change? Insecurity began to fill your heart and mind as you thought back to every note you had left Shawn and how he had responded. When he thanked you and insisted on how adorable you were for reminding him of your love through surprise, written notes, had he been lying? Did he really think you were clingy and obnoxious?

Unwilling to stick around any longer to find out more of his thoughts on this subject, you turned on your heel and strode out of the room. If he didn’t like your notes, you wouldn’t write them anymore. It was as simple as that.

. . .

The following day, Shawn was once again in the studio, him and his team still trying to nail down the lyrics to one of the final songs on the album. They had made such incredible progress, but had seemed to hit a road block this week. After an intense morning of writing and re-writing different lyrics in an attempt to find the perfect verses, the team had decided that taking a much-needed lunch break and reconvening in an hour would be best.

Opening the lunch that his beautiful girlfriend had packed him that morning, a small smile formed on his lips, knowing that you usually left him a cute little note to find. It had been a tough morning of constant frustration and disappointment as the spark was lacking from the song. A note from you was just what he needed. However, guilt tugged at his heart as he remembered the conversation from yesterday. Matt had seen the paper fall out of his lunch bag yesterday and had been quick to snatch it up, reading it aloud and proceeding to mock him along with the other guys. In embarrassment, Shawn had lashed out and said words that were completely false. He made it sound like he hated your sweet notes, when in fact they filled his heart with so much joy, knowing that his girl loved him enough to take the time and write about how much she loved him and how proud she was of him and to remind him that she believed in him, always.

Digging through the bag, Shawn frowned when he came up empty. No note. That was odd, he thought.

Although, the more he thought about it, the more he remembered how rushed you were this morning. Rationalizing in his mind that you were probably just busy this morning and didn’t have time, he pushed away the thoughts of worry and dug into his food, joining in with the conversation around him.

. . .

About a week later, Shawn was sitting in your living room, leg anxiously bouncing up and down as he waited for you to get home from work. It had been a week now of no notes in his lunch. No notes left for him to find on the fridge in the mornings. No sweet “I Love You” messages scrawled on the bathroom mirror in red lipstick. And it wasn’t only that. You had been quieter. You weren’t as easily affectionate as you had once been with him. You were more reserved. Distant. And it scared the living hell out of him. You were the love of his life. He didn’t think he could live without you. Had your feelings for him changed? Had his crazy lifestyle finally caught up with you? He didn’t think he could handle that if it had.

At first, he had simply written these subtle changed in your behavior off, but he couldn’t do that anymore. He knew something was wrong and he was determined to find out what so he could fix it.

His head snapped in the direction of the door as he heard your key turn in the lock.

He stood up as you stepped through the door, hanging your coat up on the hook and placing your purse and keys on the table by the entryway. He bit his lip as he watched you, silently running through the words that he wanted to say to you.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured.

You looked up, slightly surprised to see him home already and standing poised in the living room waiting for you.

“Hi,” you responded cautiously. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” he reassured. “I just wanted to talk,” he murmured, wringing his hands together nervously. “Can you come here and sit with me?”

Your own anxiety spiked up at that statement. Uh-oh. That didn’t sound too good.

Slowly, you made your way over to him, taking a seat and angling your body so that you were facing him.

Shawn reached out and took one of your hands in both of his and taking a deep breath. “Baby, before I say anything else, I just want you to know how much I love you, okay? You know that, right? That I love you.”

You nodded. “Of course, Shawn. I know that. I love you too.”

Shawn let out a breath, nerves easing slightly at the reassurance of your love for him.

“And you would tell me if anything was wrong, right?” He questioned earnestly, eyes seeking yours for something you weren’t aware of.

You nodded hesitantly, still unsure as to where this conversation was going.

“Then honey,” Shawn began. “What happened to my notes?”

You blinked, completely caught off guard. “Your what?”

“My notes!” Shawn exclaimed, voice raising slightly in panic as he let his confusion, frustration, and hurt slip into his tone. “The ones you leave me everywhere! In my lunch, on the fridge, in the bathroom, everywhere! They’ve stopped! And that’s not all,” Shawn continued, now on a roll. “You’ve been distant! You’ve been quiet at night. You don’t cuddle me in bed like you used to. Sweetheart, what did I do?” He begged. “Tell me, honey. Tell me and I’ll fix it right now. I love you! I’d do anything for you, you know that! Just . . . just, come back to me!” He begged, voice breaking and breaths coming hard as all his fears came tumbling out of his mouth like an uncontrolled waterfall.

You stared at your boyfriend, mouth slightly agape. Whatever you had been expecting, that certainly wasn’t it.

“You - you miss my notes?” You questioned, trying to gather your thoughts.

“Yes!” Shawn breathed. “Of course, I miss your notes, honey! Why would you ever doubt that?” He pleaded, squeezing your hand and inching closer to you so that your legs were brushing against one another.

You looked down, mind racing as you tried to discern what was true. Did Shawn mean what he was saying? Or was he simply worried you were pulling away and just using the lack of love notes as an example?

“I heard you,” you whispered, glancing up quickly before looking back down, not really wanting to let Shawn know you had been eavesdropping on his conversation last week, but seeing no way around it.

“Heard me when, sweetheart?” Shawn questioned, lifting a hand under your chin and gently tilting your face up, searching your eyes for answers.

You blew out a long, slow breath. “Last week,” you finally admitted. “When you forgot your lunch and I came to drop it off at the studio. After I left, I remembered that I needed to ask what you wanted for dinner that night. So, I came back in, but before I could, I overheard apart of your conversation.”

Shawn paled as realization sunk in and he recalled exactly what conversation it was that you had overheard and what words had been said. “Honey . . .” he trailed off, words failing him as he didn’t even know what to say. God, he was such a jerk. How could he say such blasphemous lies about you? His sweet, perfect angel. And now to know that you had overheard him saying such false things about you. It broke his heart, but he had no one to blame but himself.

Mistaking his silence for something else, you began to ramble. “It’s ok if you do think that,” you began. “You’re entitled to your own opinion and if you think that something I do is clingy and obnoxious, just tell me. Don’t make fun of me behind my back with your friends. I can take it, I promise.”

Shawn shook his head, becoming increasingly more angry with himself as he realized that his senseless words had caused you to doubt not only yourself, but his love and appreciation for you. “Sweetheart, stop,” he interrupted. “I love your notes. I love knowing how much you care. Those notes make my entire day.”

You looked down, unsure as to whether he was telling the truth or simply guilty at the fact that he had been caught.

Shawn, seeming to sense your hesitation, again lifted your chin so that he could look you in the eye. “Baby, I’m telling you the truth, I promise. The guys started ragging on me and I got embarrassed. And in my embarrassment, I lashed out and said some really stupid, untrue things,” he explained, shifting even closer to you on the small couch and moving his hands so that they were now cupping your cheeks, forcing you to keep your attention on him. “But I never should have let their teasing get to me,” he continued. “I am so unbelievably proud to have you as a girlfriend and so lucky to be so freely and openly loved by you. You have to believe me, baby. Say you believe me, please.”

Searching his eyes, you saw nothing but sincerely. But still, you hesitated. The hurt from that conversation still lingering in your mind and in your heart. You wanted to believe him so badly, but the sadness of this last week wouldn’t just wash away so easily.

Tears welled up in Shawn’s eyes as he took notice of the internal battle going on in your mind, heartbroken that he had caused you to doubt him and his affection for you. Wracking his brain for some way to get you to believe him, his eyes lit up as he remembered something he had secretly been collecting since the beginning of your relationship and something that followed him on tour always to help him in those tough moments of missing you.

“Wait right here, I’ll be right back!” He exclaimed, as he jumped up from the couch and raced up the stairs, sprinting into your bedroom and pulling out the small scrapbook that he had stored in his suitcase underneath the bed.

Running back down the stairs, he returned to the living room and sat back down next to you on the couch, placing the small book in your lap.

“What’s this?” You questioned, looking up at him in confusion.

“If you have any doubts that I love receiving your cute, little notes, this should reassure you,” he smiled softly. “I take it with me whenever I leave for tour, anytime I’m going to be away from you for any period of time. To reassure myself that you’re here and you love me and that you’re always in my heart, even when I may be physically distant from you.”

Giving him a look, you hesitantly opened the book and gasped when you saw the first note you had ever written to Shawn staring back up at you. You raised your head, gazing at your boyfriend in disbelief. He smiled and nodded at the book, silently encouraging you to keep exploring its contents.

Flipping through the pages, you found more of your notes. They ranged from simple I love you’s to long paragraphs explaining why you loved him as well as quick encouragements cheering him on before important shows or award ceremonies. Reaching the end of the book, you found the note that you had given him just last week, the last one you had written, and the one that had spurred on the fateful conversation that had ended those very notes.

“I’ve saved every single note you’ve given me,” Shawn murmured, grabbing the book and placing it on the table so that he could grab onto your hands. “I love stumbling upon your words of love and encouragement to me throughout the day, whether that be in my lunch, my jacket pocket, or any of the other creative locations you’ve managed to stash them,” he chuckled.

You cracked a smile at that, cheeks warming under his gaze.

“So, believe me, honey, when I tell you that I am so sorry that I ever made you doubt that. I’m an idiot. A complete and utter idiot and I am so, so sorry. Can you forgive me, sweetheart?” He begged, eyes earnestly boring into your own.

Smiling at your sweet boyfriend, you nodded, overcome by emotion as you leaned forward and passionately pressed your lips to his own, hands coming up to embed themselves in his curly hair and tugging, eliciting a groan from him as his own hands wrapped themselves around your waist, tugging you into his lap, causing you to break away in giggles. Shawn laughed as well, relieved that you were back in his arms. Relieved that the light and love was back in your eyes. He pressed a series of kisses to your face, your eyelids, forehead, temple, nose, anywhere his lips could reach.

“Shawn!” You squealed.  “Stop!” You laughed.

“Not a chance,” Shawn growled through kisses. “I’ve missed out on a whole week of affection from you, we have a lot of making up to do!” He explained, standing up and throwing you over his shoulder as he ran to the bedroom, hellbent on showing you exactly how much he loved you.

[sparklyaxolotlstudent]

Alternative to Ladybug.

Lila thinks Bustier is too much of a pushover and decides to frame Marinette with Mendeleiev instead. She made a huge mistake. 

(This is sort of a rewrite of my “Lila Gets Exposed” fic)

-

Lila smiled smugly. Everything was going according to her plan. That bitch Marinette would get her just desserts and Gabriel Agreste would give her Adrien in a silver plate.

Her plan was a rather simple, really. She knew Marinette was a goody-two-shoe and would get a good grade on their latest test, so she stole the answer sheet and put it in her backpack. She then placed an anonymous note on Miss Mendeleiev desk about Marinette cheating and Mendeleiev would take care of the rest. Of course her first idea was to use Miss Bustier, but she was such a pushover that Marinette probably would be able to convince her of her innocence, or worse, she wouldn’t and her punishment would be just to apologize. Lila rolled her eyes at the thought. But with Mendeleiev? She was merciless, and once her plan got in motion, she was as good as expelled.

Just to be on the safe side, she had answered all her own answers wrong, so Marinette couldn’t accuse her of being the mastermind. And of course she also had hidden her fake fox tail miraculous necklace on Marinette’s locker, to accuse her of stealing a precious family heirloom.

Lila took a seat smugly as ever in Bustier’s class, as the class had returned to their regular classroom.

It had barely been 10 minutes of the teacher talking about something Lila was not paying attention, when someone knocked at the door. It was that pigtailed blonde girl from the other class… Aura?  

“Miss Bustier? Hello. Miss Mendeleiev asked me to come for Marinette Dupain Cheng. If you gave her your permission”

Aurore gave Miss Bustier an envelope, which Miss Bustier carefully opened and read. “Yes, of course. Marinette?” The blue haired girl stood up. “Miss Mendeleiev wants to talk to you.” Marinette started to get out of her seat. “With your things”

Marinette stopped in her tracks, shrugged and grabbed her backpack. Once she and Aurore were out of the classroom, Bustier continued with her lecture. Lila was speechless, and a bit pissed. She expected that Mendeleiev would expose Marinette as a cheater, Marinette claim for her innocence and accusing her of being a cheater, an epic battle of wits… and she got nothing. The others weren’t even talking about it, or found it odd that Marinette had been called away.

Less than 15 minutes later, another knock on the door. This time it was Miss Mendeleiev, with Marinette in front of her.

“Excuse me for all the interruptions Caline” She greeted her colleague. “But I needed to talk to Marinette about something really important.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about” Miss Mendeleiev looked uncharacteristically nice. Lila expected her to be furious, and Marinette to be a sobbing mess, but instead they looked rather calm and mellow. “Can you lend me Lila for a moment?”

“Of course! Lila?”

Lila felt as if she had done the ice bucket challenge again… well, she actually hadn’t done it, but she said she did and managed to get thousands of dollars for… whatever the cause was.

“I didn’t cheat!” She said automatically, before she could process what she was saying. She immediately covered her mouth. Everyone looked at her. Miss Mendeleiev raised an eyebrow.

“That was not what I was going to discuss with you, but it is evident you know about that false accusation”

“It was not false! Marinette cheated on your test!” everyone gasped. Finally Lila was going to get the drama she deserved.

Marinette looked at her… with a bored expression. That was not what Lila was expecting.

Miss Mendeleiev crossed her arms in annoyance. She stared at Lila who was getting very nervous of the intensity of the glare.

“Demeter?” said Bustier, calling her colleague’s name in clear confusion. 

“Well, if Lila wants this to be a public matter instead of a private affair… Miss Rossi tried to frame Marinette for cheating on my latest test”

Everyone gasped in surprise, and they started to talk. A look from Miss Mendeleiev made everyone go quiet.

“That’s impossible! Lila wouldn’t do something like that!”

“Marinette got full marks on yesterday’s test, nothing out of the ordinary for her.” They could swear Miss Mendeleiev smiled for a fraction of a second, but it could never be proved. “And today I receive an anonymous note on my desk about Marinette stealing the answer sheet.”

Caline Bustier covered her mouth in a dramatic fashion and looked at Marinette, who wasn’t reacting at all at the news. “Marinette?”

“Relax, she didn’t do anything wrong. I called her because the note also said that she still had the answer sheet. And she had it in her backpack”

“See? She cheated! She’s a cheater and a thief!” yelled Lila. She shut up when Miss Mendeleiev looked at her.

“She did?” asked Caline, still not understanding. Demeter Mendeleiev had to use all her willpower to not roll her eyes.

“The sheet was just shoved in her backpack. It makes no sense for her to have that on top of her things, a day after the test. Clearly, someone just shoved it in her backpack.”

Lila was fuming. This was not supposed to happen! The sheet on Marinette’s backpack should have been enough proof that she was a cheater!

“I wasn’t going to accuse a student for such a flimsy reason, and I had no proof of who could have sent that note, so I was going to forget about the whole thing… but Miss Rossi has incriminated herself, as I hadn’t mentioned the note to anyone until right now”

“Then why you wanted to talk to her?”

“I was feeling generous and was going to give her more time for her essay”

"It couldn’t have been me! I got all the answers wrong!”

The class gasped in surprise again. It was clearly this was the work of someone else. Miss Mendeleiev was even more annoyed now.

“It was a multiple choice test Lila. Even if you answered the test randomly, pure statistics say you should have gotten some answers right. The only way you got all answers wrong is if you knew the right answers and avoided them on purpose. Right Kante?”  Mendeleiev asked Max, which caught him by surprise. The boy looked between Lila and his teacher.

“Yes… the possibilities of getting all the answers wrong in a multiple choice test by choosing randomly is practically 0”

Some of the other students glared at Max, especially Lila and Alya. Kim grabbed his smaller friend and glared back at them.

“Very well, Lila, come with me, I guess we’ll have to talk with the principal and with your mother about your punishment for cheating and trying to frame a fellow student”

“I… Marinette also has been bullying me! She stole my grandma’s necklace!”

Marinette turned around to glare at Lila, but before she could say anything, Miss Mendeleiev spoke for her.

“Really?” was everything she said, clearly not believing Lila. Miss Bustier, on the other hand, was shocked about the revelation.

“Yes. I know where it is. I’ll show you to prove I’m telling the truth”

Miss Mendeleiev pinched the bridge of her nose, more annoyed than ever. “We have already reached the conclusion that you got into her backpack Lila”

“What? No, not her backpack! She has it in her locker!”

Miss Mendeleiev stared at Lila for a few seconds. Everyone remained silent. “That’s it. You’re coming with me with the Principal”

“What? You’re not going to check her locker?”

“The locker that literally anyone can open?” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not stupid, Lila. If you got into her backpack, getting into her locker would be even easier. You’ll recover whatever you put in Marinette’s locker later. And unless you’re apologizing to Marinette, I don’t want to hear anything from you until your mom arrives. Grab your things, we’re going. ”

[marksloan]

woah, can you tell us what happened with your dad and aunt? and how buzzfeed wanted to help? i am so curious

oh lord this is a story and a half. i can't believe i've actually never spoken about this before??

if you want a story about a messy family, buzzfeed unsolved being like aight yeah this is sus we want to help out, and my dwindling sanity, this is all going to be under the cut~

also side note, i have receipts of most things because we were terrified that my dad was going to gaslight about everything which, eventually, he did. we also knew that a lot of things were going to be deleted off of the internet for reasons we didn't know, so this is why i have a lot of shit just lying around omg. i literally sat here and watched every piece of evidence get deleted as i refreshed the page so this is the best i can do

TD;LR: we found out that my dad had a secret twin sister and he did everything he could to hide her from us alongside her mysterious death.

a few years ago, i started doing ancestry so i could find my family history and one thing lead to another and i found out that my aunt on my dad's side had also made a tree. while going through the birth records for births in the same area/time frame as my dad's birth, i found that there was a second kid listed under a mother with the same last name AND maiden name (because they list both the father and the mother's last name) alongside the same area code. this was super weird because neither name is super common and it was just a little too weird.

(name blocked out because ohhh boy this is supposed to be a sensitive family issue LMAO)

(here's some receipts of me messaging a friend on facebook because this whole situation is insane and i feel like i need to back myself up bc not even i'd believe myself omg)

flash forward to me going onto my aunt's family tree and finding out that she'd listed this random woman as my dad's twin sister. beyond sketch. we have never heard of this random woman and, when i mentioned it to my mother a few weeks later, she had no idea about it either, although, after a few days, she did recall a conversation she'd had with my uncle (my dad's older sister's husband) when my parents had just started dating. she said that he'd made a comment about my dad and just jokingly said 'oh, it's like a twin thing' and, very confused, my mum had played along. she hadn't thought much about it until i was sat there showing her screenshots of some random woman on my aunt's family tree. basically, she was fairly sure that it was right just from the genuine vibe of that side of the family, they're ex-military and very secretive and we've always got the feeling that something was a bit off.

she told me not to mention it to my dad and like a dumbass i did. i told him about the random woman on this family tree and he was PISSED. he told me that it was wrong and that 'it was easy to get lost and find the wrong people', despite being an account that was actively linked to his older sister's facebook account, and i decided to drop it. my dad can make your life hell when he wants to and i just left it alone.

but then my sister got involved oml. she picked right where i left off during quarantine in the summer and immediately dove right into this twin sister mystery. she discovered that this woman had died in the 90's, right before my parents got together, right in the vicinity that my dad's family moved (which, if you remember, they're military so they basically moved around the uk a lot. for someone who was originally was born in the north of the uk to randomly turn up and die in the most specific, random southern town was more than a coincidence.) however, my sisters ability to investigate extended a lot more than I did; she actually messaged my aunt over facebook and asked about this mystery woman that.

it didn't go well.

at the same time, she started tweeting about it on twitter and jokingly started saying 'oh maybe buzzfeed unsolved would be interested?'. this all happened around a week after aria uploaded his first(?) video investigating his father's best friend disappearing. i'm not sure what drove my sister to message aria but she eventually sent him a message on instagram and he (somehow???) responded and was very interested in helping us with our little family mystery.

this is what he sent my sister in response to her DMS.:

basically, this woman was impossible to trace. she only had a birth certificate and a death certificate, which in itself is very weird because in the uk you can at least follow people around the country with the regular census.

when my sister messaged my aunt we noticed that my dad was getting a lot of text messages constantly while he was out in the garden. we were deadass sat there listening to his phone just ping over and over. so my sister (like a stan twitter psychopath) decided to reset her twitter password, of which was linked to my dads phone and ended up actually going through his text messages.

i can't find the sc (my sister got a new insta account and it's what she sent me all the scs through) but if i remember rightly she sent him a message that was like: they're asking about [insert nickname for the twin sister] what should i say? and my dad I SHIT YOU NOT answered with i'll handle it. like I'm sorry sir is this an action movie? ur a taxi driver not james bond sit the fuck down.

(EDIT I FOUND IT IN A FACEBOOK CONVO)

f(he also, notably, lied to us and said that his sister had all of the family photos ~~~ imagine the way my ass fell out of my stomach when i read these text messages.)

we mentioned aria to my mum and explained how he might be able to help but she was very against it. instead, she took me and my sister out for dinner when quarantine eased (cmon eat to help out) and sent my dad a thick ass paragraph. i can't remember what it said for sure but there was something like 'do you want to be remembered as a liar by your kids because they're either going to find out the truth now or after your dead? its your choice xoxo'. god I'm so excited for the therapy I'm going to need in twenty years about my trust issues.

basically he admitted that it was true, but only over text message. he didn't give us any information, nor will he admit it in person or even speak about it. we know nothing other than the fact that this woman caused a lot of family drama and probably trauma and that they refuse to talk about her due to something she did to my grandmother (who as you can tell from the ancestry sc above, is long deceased.) basically this whole thing was a shit show and eventually aria agreed that there were too many messy factors, mental health and privacy etc.

there's a lot more involved surprisingly that i had to condense into this post but hopefully that explains it a bit. like i said, i'm beyond excited for this to cripple my ability to trust my family and men in particular and i'm just so excited for the therapy I'm going to need!

[paladin-lynx]

Go Godot, Yeah!

Author’s Notes: This was inspired by Certified Weirdo’s Ace Attorney mod for Friday Night Funkin’ and a comment about it from a friend of mine that was something akin to, “The thing about the mod is that I can totally imagine Godot going into back alleys and rap battling against other lawyers because he’s just Like That.” And I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, so here we are. Go show Friday Night Funkin’ and Certified Weirdo some love, too! I banged this out when I had some free time during work, lol. I can continue this or other FNF-inspired pieces if people show interest. But for now, enjoy!

Ships Involved: Phoenix Wright x Miles Edgeworth (WrightWorth/NaruMitsu) if you squint

Setting: Non-specific, but I had it in my head that it’s during Trials and Tribulations (AA3) with Miles coming back to America early.

Trigger/Content Warnings: None

CONTAINS VARIOUS SPOILERS FOR ORIGINAL ACE ATTORNEY TRILOGY!

“It’s good to have you back, Miles.”

Miles blinked before hurriedly averting his gaze, clearing his throat. “Yes, well...I suppose it is nice to be back, in some ways.”

Phoenix smiled, able to spot the tinge of pink in Miles’s cheeks. Miles could take praise about his prosecuting skills just fine – he’d even gloat when someone commented on how talented he was – but when it came to something softer and more sentimental like this, he without a doubt found himself lost for words. Phoenix couldn’t help finding it kind of adorable, which of course led to him taking any opportunity he could to get Miles to blush.

It had been a while since they’d gotten to simply spend time together, but they both felt too antsy to just sit around and talk. And so they’d agreed to take a walk together and catch up. It had been a while since Miles had mulled around the L.A. streets, but not much had changed. And while their city wasn’t the prettiest or the safest by any means, it was still home. Phoenix knew that Miles felt more at ease overseas with his new responsibilities and with not having to deal with the bullshittery that came with being a lawyer in America, but Phoenix also knew that this would always be home for them. Miles would always have a place – and people – to come back to.

They walked rather aimlessly, having no specific destination in mind, although they’d have to get back to their respective homes eventually. But they soon found themselves at the train station and Phoenix smiled a bit to himself. He had barely left L.A. before becoming a lawyer, but this station was awfully familiar to him now with how often he had to travel to Kurain Village. He remembered when Maya had first left and he’d raced here to catch her before she was gone, making her promise that they’d see each other again. Of course, their reunion after that wasn’t the most ideal with Maya once again ending up behind bars, but now years later Phoenix couldn’t bring himself to be too upset with how things had gone. It just seemed par for the course at this point, and he wasn’t sure which was more concerning: the fact that events like that were so commonplace or the fact that he’d become numb to such things.

“Feeling nostalgic, Wright?”

Phoenix was snapped out of his reverie by Miles’s voice and he blinked at the other man. Miles was giving him a knowing half-smile, quirking an eyebrow, and now it was Phoenix’s turn to blush and look away, out at the tracks. “Maybe a bit. I’ve been coming here a lot lately. If you told me a few years ago that I’d be making regular pilgrimages to a village of spirit mediums, I’d call you crazy.”

Miles huffed out a chuckle, pushing his hands into his pants pockets. “I think if anyone told us even the smallest detail of what we’ve been up to since first entering the courtroom, we’d call them crazy. You see why I felt such the urgent need to flee the country.”

Phoenix broke into a little grin, nudging Miles with his elbow. “Including having to fake your own death?”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope. I mourned you, Miles! You’ve gotta see it from my perspective. You didn’t even give an explanation. You didn’t even say goodbye!”

“Perhaps you should try seeing it from my perspective. I was going through quite a lot. I...wasn’t thinking clearly. I know now that the way I departed hurt people, but it wasn’t exactly on my mind then.”

“I know, I know,” Phoenix replied softly. Despite still being sore at Miles’s rather callous method of running away, Phoenix didn’t want to actually upset him or bring back bad memories. He knew that had been a rough time for Miles.

And so they stood there, on the platform, just watching the tracks in comfortable silence. Phoenix knew there’d be a train zooming by soon enough, but for now it was peacefully quiet.

“Trite!”

Phoenix barely even noticed how his shoulders seemed to instantly stiffen at that familiar voice and infuriating nickname. Furrowing his brow, he slowly turned and sure enough, by one of the shelters on the platform, was Godot with his usual grin, his visor glowing bright red in the low light of the station. Phoenix wouldn’t have questioned running into him in the city considering Godot most likely lived here, too, but he definitely had questions when he noticed the large speakers behind Godot and the microphone in the prosecutor’s hand. And of course, as always, his other hand was occupied by a cup of coffee. It was a miracle this man wasn’t dead yet with the obscene amount of caffeine he consumed.

“Who is that?” Miles asked, squinting slightly at Godot. “He seems familiar somehow...”

“Prosecutor Godot,” Phoenix greeted carefully, also to answer Miles’s question. “What, uh...What are you doing here?”

Godot just continued to grin at them. “I was waiting for you to show up, in fact. A little kitten told me you were heading out this way.”

“I don’t believe that’s how the phrase goes,” Miles commented whilst Phoenix just pulled a face at the choice of words.

“Don’t bother, Edgeworth. He’s just like this.” Phoenix took in a breath and looked to Godot again. Did that mean Godot had just been waiting here for him like some kind of creep? Who could have told Godot where he and Miles were going? Actually, there was one person. “...Maya?”

Godot chuckled, pausing to take a sip of his coffee. “I see you’re just as slow on the uptake outside the courtroom as you are inside it, Trite. Like a toddler seeing a magic trick for the first time.”

“He’s not wrong,” Miles muttered, causing Phoenix to give him a rather harsh nudge with his elbow.

“Whose side are you on?!”

“Well, you did mention he’s a prosecutor, so technically—”

“Oh, can it, Miles,” Phoenix huffed, ignoring the little amused smirk on Miles’s face, even if it made his heart skip a beat or two. He looked back at Godot with a scowl. “Alright, so I’m here. What of it?”

“Think fast,” Godot snickered, tossing something to Phoenix. The defense attorney definitely wasn’t prepared and fumbled for a moment before managing to clamp his hands around the object, frowning down at it.

Miles peeked at it over his shoulder. “A...microphone?” He looked over at Godot – who was still holding his own microphone – seemingly trying to figure out what was happening. Meanwhile, Phoenix was also trying to figure out what the absolute fuck was going on.

“What’s this for?” he asked cautiously, narrowing his eyes over at Godot.

The other man’s grin never wavered and he brandished his microphone. “What do you say to a little competition? A genuine battle between men to see who’s best.”

“Don’t we do that enough during trials?”

“There are countless angles to every person, Trite. Just like how you can spend every day of your life experimenting with brews in your attempts to find perfection. You may be a half-decent lawman, but that’s just one side of you.” Godot tilted his head in amusement. “I’m curious if you can hold your own on a different kind of battlefield. One that requires a bit more coordination than how you have a lucky streak of stumbling into conclusions in the courtroom.”

Phoenix was still lost, mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. He finally just turned to Miles helplessly. Miles thought for a long moment – Phoenix could practically see the gears turning in his head – before he looked to Phoenix. “I believe...he’s asking you to have a singing contest.”

“Oh no no no,” Godot cut in before Phoenix could even fathom what his companion had said. “Close but no cigar, kid. Not singing. Any poor excuse of a soul can cobble together a tune and kindergarten-level lyrics.” He pointed his microphone at Phoenix. “I want you to rap battle me.”

Phoenix just stared, blinking several times, before looking at Miles again. “Am I dreaming? Or high?”

“No, you’re very much awake and the amount of sane you usually are,” Miles replied, crossing his arms. Phoenix hated how intrigued his friend looked.

Muttering a few choice words under his breath, Phoenix turned back to Godot. “So you came here, set up a speaker and mics, and have just been waiting for me to randomly come here just so you can ask me to rap against you? What’ll that prove? And how the hell is rapping more complicated than singing? It’s just talking to a beat. Anyone can do that.”

“Ha!” Godot shook his head. “So simple-minded, Trite. It’s like you’re still a boy instead of a man, seeing the world through your little keyhole. Rapping requires you to think on your feet. The pace is more urgent. Singing is going through your evidence piece by piece and praying to whatever god you follow that something sticks out to you. Rapping is like having the ultimate penalty hanging over your head the entire time, the guillotine blade waiting to slam down on your sorry neck. So I’ve been curious, Trite...” Godot grinned again. “You think you can keep up with me?”

Something about the way Godot said it, how he still had his microphone pointed at Phoenix like a sword, and that goddamn smug expression on his face lit a fire in Phoenix that he’d never felt before. He had never been the most musically inclined, but someone had to put Godot in his place. And here they were.

So he gritted his teeth and stepped forward, tightening the grip on his microphone. “It’ll be you who’s struggling to keep up with me, stoplight.”

“Ha! That’s the spirit,” Godot cackled, slamming his hand onto a button on the speakers so that they crackled to life.

Miles hummed thoughtfully from where he stood watching. “Ridiculous...But I can’t say this won’t be interesting.”

[ginmo]

How do you think the Bran and Jaime’s meeting will go in the books? I’ve read theories guessing he might end up as King Bran’s Hand, meta where the writers want him to become a mentor or father figure to the Starks in a full circle of his redemption arc, while others don’t want or think he should be involved with the Starks long-term either because of his and his family’s sins against the Starks or because they view his arc as reclamation rather than redemption or atonement. 1/2

This is what GRRM said about Bran and exploring time. 

“It's an obscenity to go into somebody's mind. So Bran may be responsible for Hodor's simplicity, due to going into his mind so powerfully that it rippled back through time. The explanation of Bran's powers, the whole questions of time and causality - can we affect the past? Is time a river you can only sail one way or an ocean that can be affected wherever you drop into it? These are issues I want to explore in the book, but it's harder to explain in a show.” - Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon

Hodor’s name reveal is neat and all, but Bran’s power to manipulate the past doesn't exist just so we can randomly learn Hodor’s pointless name origin. That would be ridiculous unless the scene was used to introduce that ability. Hodor’s name reveal is important to the narrative, and I believe its purpose is to set up a much bigger event/reveal involved around Bran interfering with the past, not just observing it. I’m pretty sure GRRM was hint-hinting to D&D about this, which is why he told them about the random ass Hodor scene that was already written, thinking it would be obvious what that means for the overall plot and letting them run with it but………………..

Because of this, I think it’s possible Bran brought himself to where he is. 

IF Bran isn’t involved in The Push, then he could have been involved with Jaime killing the Mad King. I kinda like the idea of Bran playing into Aerys’ madness, causing him to stock up on wildfire around the city, because then the wildfire would be an essential future plot element for a bigger purpose towards the end of the series and it would be a question of time, “a river you can only sail one way, or an ocean that can be affected wherever you drop it,” but for the entire series. (And, as someone with a passion in astrophysics, I’m a sucker for discussions around time. BUTTHAT’SJUSTME) 

Do I totally subscribe to this theory? Eh. I’m still not convinced Bran is King of All of Westeros for reasons, but I’m open-minded. I DO think Jaime is surviving the series, for reasonsssss, so I’m putting that disclaimer out there right now. I will never claim with absolute confidence that he is surviving though because, I mean, nobody fucking knows, and there’s an argument for death. I’m just going off of narrative clues that I perceive to be clues, and taking other character arcs into consideration. After literally drawing up a table because I’m weird, the column for Survive has more evidence and justification than the column for Dies, so that’s why I lean the way I lean. SO with that being said, I think it’s possible he has more of a political future.

IF this is what GRRM is writing, Jaime would still be responsible for pushing him, of course, but future Bran would want to be pushed. He'd be setting everything in motion to create the butterfly effect that makes it happen. 

Even if that isn’t what GRRM had intended with exploring time, it’s highly likely Bran’s character development is taking him down a path of apathy over it, meaning he wouldn’t be needing Jaime to do something for the purpose of redemption for him. 

Speaking of Redemption…

-deep breath-

I’m going to go off on this a bit because it IS relevant, I swear. 

“Limits of redemption” is probably the biggest wtf interpretation fandom has when it comes to what GRRM actually said. I’ll try not to go off on it too much here but -

Interviewer: Both Jaime and Cersei are clearly despicable in those moments. Later, though, we see a more humane side of Jaime when he rescues a woman, who had been an enemy, from rape. All of a sudden we don’t know what to feel about Jaime.

GRRM: One of the things I wanted to explore with Jaime, and with so many of the characters, is the whole issue of redemption. When can we be redeemed? Is redemption even possible? I don’t have an answer. But when do we forgive people? [...]  I want there to be a possibility of redemption for us, because we all do terrible things. We should be able to be forgiven. Because if there is no possibility of redemption, what’s the answer then?  [x]

I bolded “we” from the interviewer, because it gives context to GRRM’s answer with “we” being the readers, not the characters or Jaime himself. (I think there’s another interview where he says “limits of redemption” but it’s in the same context. I could be wrong but I SWEAR I heard it. Anyway…) 

“I kind of tried to ask, ‘do you think he’s changed?’ to get him to talk about Jaime’s redemption arc, so he said something like he wanted to explore the concept of forgiveness and whether it’s possible to be forgiven for doing such horrible things, and that his goal was to ask the question, not give an answer.” [x]

Fandom thinks this is the characters giving Jaime forgiveness, and maybe there will be a small element of that in the books, but the question is for the readers. No, Jaime is not actively seeking redemption from people. His redemption is for himself, through living his best life, by rediscovering the person he used to be. Yes He Will Be Redeemed and No He Will Fail assume redemption is some arbitrary checklist determined by One Big Act, and they’re answers to a question GRRM doesn’t want to give an answer to. 

The purpose of Jaime’s POVs is to ask the readers, and the most obvious moment of this was the bath scene. GRRM smacks us over the head with the Aerys confession, and then as we’re introduced to more and more of his POV chapters, he slowly chips away at the Jaime illusion that was intentionally established the moment he pushed one of the perceived child protagonists out of a window. It’s brilliant, and I’m sorry GRRM that a large chunk of your fandom is too dense to get it. How frustrating lol. I’ll be insulted for him. (I’m legit wondering if his recent angsty tweets about grey and redemption about real life stem from a concern that his fandom won’t understand the point of the series.) 

To give you an idea of where these people are coming from, at least one BNF idiot on Twitter believes redemption hasn’t been explored with Jaime yet. 

But uh… 

GRRM mentioned his intent is to “explore redemption” after delivering Jaime POVs, because... it’s... not a spoiler… he’s already exploring redemption, because the question is being asked TO US. We were supposed to have an “oh shit” moment, realizing this is more complex than the surface level, biased perspective we were delivered at the beginning of the story. “Maybe Westeros and my protagonist have it wrong.” -cough- the people in the village in BatB -cough- 

No matter how much fandom likes to pretend they love GRRM for pushing the boundaries of fantasy, they secretly fucking hate it. They love to be comfortable, dude. That’s why they read this series as if it’s a clear cut Good vs. Evil, because a) ego and b) that’s easy. If GRRM was writing Jaime as doing everything with ill intent then…. his… question isn’t being asked. They think everything he does right now is selfish and Bad, so they’re waiting. They want it spoon fed to them. They want classic fantasy. They want Starks = Good, Lannisters = Bad. 

But… if the author sees Jaime’s actions as grey and complex, enough to ask the question to the readers if he’s redeemed in their eyes or not, then he’s not going to write an endgame that punishes the character for narrative payoff, because he doesn’t see his actions as “sins” or “crimes” in the same way that these people are. Once upon a time, a person on tumblr reblogged one of my posts and said that Jaime will rape Cersei before he kills himself and that will be his endgame. But GRRM doesn’t view Jaime as a rapist, so he’s not going to write Jaime as a rapist. I’m bringing that up, because it’s the same phenomenon. People can ignore authorial intent all they want, but NOT when it comes to predicting narrative trajectory. The general fandom is terrible at that lol. 

The exploration of redemption for Jaime comes in the form of confronting his disillusioned self and everything attached to it. Before someone thinks, “lolllll he isn’t disillusioned” 

 “he actually was a very idealistic young man who was disillusioned by life” [x]

Jaime’s redemption is the path of returning to that idealistic man for himself. It’s by feeling ashamed of the things he’s done to hide his love for Cersei. It’s by gaining independence and detaching from the toxic relationship that caused a mess outside of them. It’s by wanting to be like the knights he admired in his youth, and like the woman warrior that inspired him. 

So when I think about narrative payoff for Jaime, I don’t see it framed as him being “punished” for actions viewed as “crimes,” when GRRM clearly established those “crimes” as complicated and grey with a character already going through some positive development, and especially when the characters judging are written to be flawed as well.

On the other side, having him be “punished” by succumbing to hatred and anger is for sure giving an answer (this just… -sits on hands- don’t even get me started on THIS fucking hot take). That answer would be a clear, solid, “No, no matter how hard he tries to turn his life around, he can’t be redeemed, because he’s a hateful, angry, fucked up person.” I’ve legit seen people think “limits of redemption” is a boundary of redemption drawn in the sand that Jaime is walking towards but he won’t be able to cross it. I-......................... 

And what’s even the point of his handchop if scenario number 2 happens?  

“And Jaime, losing a hand, losing the very thing he defined himself on is crucial to where I think I want to go with the character. And he questions what do you make of yourself if you’ve lost that.” - GRRM [x]

(I’m going to put this quote in every post sorry not sorry) 

So he’s going to take Jaime on this big identity journey just for him to be like “lol nah he isn’t that” …?? That makes the loss of his hand meaningless, not “crucial.” Is it really crucial for him to lose his hand if he’s bringing him back to the beginning? Is it really crucial for him to lose his hand to make himself realize he’s hateful and a failure and murder Cersei and then himself? No. He could have still met Brienne and been inspired by her knightly ways, attempted to live a better life, found out about Cersei’s affairs, etc. He doesn’t need to lose his hand to reach a point of fucking murder/suicide lmao fuck (not saying he’ll do that but I KNOW people are thinking it). 

The loss of his hand is “crucial,” because GRRM has bigger endgame plans for him in the form of politics, and the journey to believably get there requires the forced loss of his warrior identity and everything that the hand symbolized. 

AS FOR THE ACTUAL HAND THEORY...

Even though I’m undecided on it, I CAN see it IF Bran is King. I get it. Jaime’s missing his right Hand, he becomes the Hand to the kid he pushed out the window. Hardy har har. I understand how that would be pleasing.

And we all know GRRM said something about how the best ones for power are the ones who don’t want it…  

And… this suspicious scene at the very beginning of the series… 

“You should be the Hand.” 

“Gods forbid,” a man’s voice replied lazily. “It’s not an honor I’d want. There’s far too much work involved.” 

Bran hung, listening, suddenly afraid to go on. -AGOT

BUT IF that happens, it wouldn’t be there as some sort of #atonement #forredemption. It would be there because of Jaime’s growth as a character after developing into a political player, after asking himself, “what do you make of yourself if you’ve lost [the swordhand]?” He’s no longer the warrior he once was. He dislikes any sort of political position, because he feels most alive with a sword in his hand. But that was Warrior Jaime, and the point of “what do you make of yourself after you’ve lost that” is Jaime going down a different path after discovering that Warrior Jaime has died. I mean, he’d never be actively seeking power and thinking it’s the best career ever, like he’d probably be all -sighhhhhhh- about it, but he’d be doing the responsible thing and what’s necessary. He’d make himself useful in a new way. 

“The Warrior had been Jaime’s god since he was old enough to hold a sword. Other men might be fathers, sons, husbands, but never Jaime Lannister, whose sword was as golden as his hair. He was a warrior, and that was all he would ever be.” - AFFC (Do I really need to make a post about how GRRM foreshadows? Mr. Bran: “I never fall”...?)

Jaime losing his hand was the narrative consequence for The Push, making all of his development post handchop -ALL OF HIS POVS- the redemption theme. It was the hand that pushed Bran, fucked his twin, killed his king, swung the sword against fandom’s Precious Protagonists… 

“You ought to be pleased. I’ve lost the hand I killed the king with. The hand that flung the Stark boy from that tower. The hand I’d slide between my sister’s thighs to make her wet.” - AFFC

So if Jaime becomes his Hand, it would be the two characters meeting in the middle, not Jaime groveling at his feet, begging for forgiveness, framed as a punishment for sins - “sins” that fandom views as “sins” that need narrative payoff, because they don’t understand intent. 

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Are you going to finish the Tiny Virgil AU? Cause the last chapter ended on a cliffhanger. If you don't feel like finishing the whole thing, you could maybe give us bullet points of what was supposed to happen?

Ahaha whoops, I kinda forgot that fic. at the rate I'm going, it'll take like ten years for that or any of my other fics to get finished. Tbh, I actually have a whole outline for that one? Acantha (@theeternalspace) and I brainstormed the rest ages ago and then I took our thoughts and bullet-outlined it out.

The thing is? Like, emotionally I want to hold onto my thoughts and finish it, but if I am to be completely honest, realistically it probably won't happen. Because I wanna prioritize Gibbous over it and all.

so tldr: I'd like to write more installments, but in the case I never finish it and/or you don't care about spoilers, check the read more for what happens.

warnings: hurt/comfort, crying, morally grey sides (all sides are present so beware idk its been awhile im not up to date with how the fandom handles this sorta thing)

Chapter 5

Anx cant believe he forgot about Thomas!

He was so caught up in Creativity wanting to play with him, he's forgotten about his whole purpose

He goes to the real world, worried about all the things that could've befallen his host without his guidance

Anx is confused to be faced with adult Morality and another...side?

"Thomas?"

Thomas is big, Anx is not

This can't be real, can it? How can he protect Thomas like this?

Roman shows up, but the damage is dealt (Ro and Pat converse a bit)

Virge starts panicking and panics even more when he sees Thomas affected by it

Ro & Pat try to comfort Virge but no use

It's Thomas who gets to him. Who is...helping? Why?

"Wh-why are you so nice? I'm bad, I hurt you--I do bad things."

Thomas looks sad at that. He tries to explaining that he doesnt think Virge is bad, he can be good

Virge doesnt really understand but at the same time...Thomas loves him??

Thomas offers him a hug and he accepts it. Still so confused but at least his host loves him.

Chapter 6

Virgil ends up tuckered up in Thomas' arms

"Crying is exhausting, don't like it" He complains to Roman.

"I know. You've been very brave, little prince."

It's not that late but Thomas seems nervous. "I should go to bed." (Basically feels like if he doesnt adhere to his childhood bedtime, he'll get in trouble aka lil Virgil's influence)

Patton asks if he'd like for him to accompany him and Thomas nods

Roman and Virgil end up back in the mindscape with Patton promising to follow soon after

Roman tucks him into bed

Patton comes back, looking tired, and both Roman and Patton agree to talk with Logan in the morning about things

in the morning with Virgil still asleep, Lo, Pat and Ro talk briefly

Logan shares some theories (Age regression maybe?)

Patton tells them what's up with Thomas

Roman decides to bother the Dark Sides. "If this happened before in the past, they would know, wouldn't they? And if they're behind it this time then I can get them to stop it"

They decide to have Patton look out for Thomas again and for Logan to watch over Virgil while Roman ventures out to the Dark Sides

Chapter 7

Logan mulls over what is happening

Grateful that Thomas is going to bed early at least

He is not worried, he is Logic

Tries focusing hard on his book

Virgil wakes up, disappointed to see Logan and not Roman

Roman ventures through the dark mindscape

infodump detail on how it differs vs. the regular mindscape, quiet, silence nobody is around

"HELLO" Roman screams as his brother pops up

"What do I owe brother dear for this visit?"

Virgil is worried about Roman, but Logan placates him a bit

The two end up doing a puzzle

During which Virgil randomly hugs Logan

When Logan asks why, Virgil explains "You're scared. Hugs make me feel less scared"

Logan thanks him for the sentiment but insists he is not scared

"You're scared, I can feel it. It's okay, I get scared lots of times so you don't have to." Virgil says

And then Logan's fear dissipates

He stares at Virgil, shocked, because did tiny virge take his fear away??

And if so, if tiny virge knows how to do this, has adult Virgil been doing it without them knowing??

Chapter 8

"I know you did it" Roman growls. It makes sense really. Remus did random things for sh*t and giggles

Remus blinked "Oh! You found out about ____, didn't you?"

"What no!" Roman says, disgusted. "I'm talking about Virgil."

"Wait, you think I did it with Virgil? Mr. Emo?"

"NO!" Roman snaps. "Stop playing dumb!"

The two have a scuffle, ending up with Remus having a sword at Ro's throat (who is stuck in green goop)

"I really don't know what you mean." Remus says, "What is it exactly do you think I did again?"

Logic must hate him, Anx thinks, otherwise why would he be looking strangely at him?

but its okay, even if it really really really hurts, Anx has done it before and would do it again to keep from any of them feeling pain

He asks if Anx took his fear away and he nods

surely this must be a happy thing but Logic seems even more upset

the fear grappling tiny virge is foreign. It's so different than fears he's taken before. He finds himself drowning in it. he doesnt quite understand most of it. But there's fears about himself, Logic being scared for him, not of him. (basically oh boy adult fears are much harder to process for a child Anxiety)

Logic grips his hand and asks for his fears back

"I can't" Tiny Virge says, shaking like a leaf

Logan asks it again. Virge shakes his head "I can't, I--I don't know how!"

He really doesnt know how. Usually he just holds it all in until it explodes.

Logic echoes some of what the fear is telling him, that Logic cares for him. And weirdly, it means a lot for him to hear that Logic actually cares.

But noooo he must only care because of Thomas, right?

Anyways this is resolved somehow idk lmao and then Logan is called to help with Thomas

Virgil promises Lo he'll be okay, not wanting to stop him from being able to help their host

Logan promises he'll back momentarily

Virgil squeezes Zola and tries his best to stay calm

Previously on Rem and Ro

Roman spills the beans on whats up

Deadbeat silence

Remus then babbles about how he has no clue what Roman is talking about, but is super intrigued and wants to check this out for himself

He sinks out as Roman grabs onto his ankle, but isn't enough to stop him from sinking out.

Chapter 9

"Hiya!"

Little Anx squeaks, shadows gathering at his feet, ready to strike at....

A Green-Dressed Creativity? He dresses fancily like him.

"Princey?"

Green laughs. "No, I'm The Duke! Princey's my brother!"

And Lil Virge is kinda confused but rolls with it because Creativity pretending to be someone else/splitting himself into two is a very Creativity thing to do and isn't too worried about it.

Roman shows up, fuming

However, because of Virgil, he has to play nice

They end up having a pretend tea party

Roman finds himself shocked that Remus is decent with kids? Or at least a Kid Anxiety??

He still says outrageous things but Virge giggles at them (Basically kids really have no baseline for moral right-or-wrong, they find talk of murder funny)

Roman feels a bit guilty/regretful realizing he never played much with Remus growing up

Eventually, Logan pops up slightly frazzled

He's relieved to see the twins there looking after Virgil

Explains the situation w/ Thomas to Roman while Remus and Virgil play

Patton pops up, looking slightly weary, leading Roman and Logan to insist he take a day off from watching Thomas

Upon seeing Logan & Patton, Virgil runs up to hug Logan, but shies away from Patton

Patton tries to hide his disappointment about this

Remus tries to leave upon seeing Lo and Pat are here

but Virge clings to him, insisting he stays

The Others agree, and Remus perks up a bit.

Somewhere, there's a discussion about Virge again, late at night?

Logan reveals Virgil taking fears from him

At some point it's decided to leave Janus out of it as it's unknown how little Virge would react to him and the fact that Janus most likely knows what's up and has chosen to stay out of it

It's decided that Remus and Roman will traverse the Imagination to see if there's a solution there

Logan will be with Thomas

Meanwhile Patton will look after Virgil

Chapter 10

Patton's POV

Little Virge is upset about both Remus and Roman leaving

they try to placate him but it does little. (Telling him how they'll stay safe and they don't want him going because they want to keep him safe)

Patton's heart breaks but he has to holds back Virge.

Eventually the two have heart-to-heart

Apparently the two had a classic childhood spat, that means a lot to Virge even tho poor Pat doesnt remember the spat at all.

Pat tells them they're the best of friends now, even shows him evidence

Virge feels a little better

Sees a snake stuffy in Pat's room, asks about Dee

Patton deflects

The two end up making cookies together

The Imagination is a bust, although the twins return squabbling in a good mood

And Remus has a "present" for Virgil, who delights in it.

They chat, when suddenly Virgil screams

Chapter 11

Virgil's POV

He's been trying his best to stay calm, to hold back the anxiety gained from Logan and also the other fears swelling inside of him

But it's too much, and push comes to shove. A burning sensation occurs

And it explodes

He has a panic attack and realizes it extends into the real world

Overwhelmed and upset, he runs off.

He runs off to his hideaway and sits there

Getting bombarded with fears

He's there for what feels like hours when--

"Oh my dear Anxiety" A crooning, unfamiliar yet familiar voice says

Virgil looks, surprised, to see Deceit!! There's a lot more scales and he's wearing a funny outfit but it's him

He is happy to see him albeit sobbing into his capelet because of what happened.

Dee holds onto him going, “Shhhh everything’s alright. Shhh it’s not your fault. It’s my fault, I’m sorry—“ and Virgil interrupts shrieking it can’t be his fault, because in his mind Dee would never do anything bad and it hurts Dee to know that young Virge has so much faith in him.

"You'll hate me" But Little Virge refuses to accept that. "You're lying, you don't mean that"

"Okay, you caught me. "We stay best friends forever" OR something along those lines

Dee convinces him to bring back to the others, that they don't hate him

When they return, the others "freaking out" is a mild understatement.

Dee slowly produces tiny Virge out of his capelet.

Hisses at them to keep their distance because crowding Virge will only freak him out

Apologies and misunderstandings are made clear

Thomas summons all of them and they all have a sleepover

Virgil falls asleep snuggled between Remus and Dee

Chapter 12

Maybe Roman's POV?

Along with Thomas, they have a discussion

Dee waits a bit, before revealing that he's behind the reason for Virge's current state.

As his role Deceit, he has access to both truth and lies. One lie is that Virgil believes his kid self died and is no longer a part of him--attempting to actively repress those memories

He then points out the childish aspects of each side's function. (Maybe Logan input something about growing up and stuff)

P: "But why would Virgil think this?" J: "oh gee, I wonder why. It isn't like he was made to feel like an outcast from a very young age or anything"

Instant Guilt for all

Anyways Dee explains some mishap occurred, thus reverting Virgil back to this state

You get the sense Janus isn't telling the whole truth.

Janus says he has a way to fix things, and that's when there's a noise

"Anx?"

Virge is there, standing incredibly still, slightly heavy breathing

"Anx, it's okay, we're not upset"

Little Virge heard everything and is upset but he understands

He knows Thomas needs big him, and the others reassure him that they'll be there for him, each having a small moment with him

Then he starts glowing brightly, causing them all to be alarmed, Janus included

Chapter 13

Virgil is back and boiiiiiii is he freaked the heck out

The Others including Thomas are all there, F*CK how can he ever recover after they saw him like that?

He's both embarrassed and mortified

Not to mention it hurts to have two sets of childhood memories rattling inside his head. One that was lonely and painful, and the other that was happy but fake

He snaps at Janus and ends up fleeing in his room

He doesn't duck out

He cant do that

He just doesnt....go out. He doesn't want to hear the jokes start. He doesnt want the babying or the pitying to start.

He does his job and that is that.

(inwardly he knew this would happen, but not like this)

They try summoning him (Thomas included) but he wont come out. His door is locked.

Patton slips a note under the door but Virge refuses to look at it.

Blares MCR

Somehow Zola appears in his room, and he'd like to tear it apart or something, but he can't help but squeeze the stuffed bat tight and cry for the childhood that never was.

A week passes, and there's a very sad prince at his door

Virgil ends up letting him in because look, he's not a monster

it's very...awkward at first

but they eventually have a heart-to-heart and some snarky banter

and Virgil is very confused when Princey feels the need to apologize to him

They also discuss Janus and Virgil very reluctantly agrees to talk to him

Virgil ends up talking with Janus over tea

Janus doesn't really look at him, staring at his teacup as he explains himself

and dammit, Janus has hurt him (but then again so has Virgil hurt Janus)

But a part of him really misses him. A part of him that has always missed him.

Janus explains he just wanted to know where he went wrong in their friendship, that he went the round-about way because knew Virgil wouldn't talk to him but messed with things he shouldnt and accidentally caused Virgil to revert to the age before their friendship started fraying by accident.

He admits that he almost wanted to leave Virgil that age, to take advantage of it as a way to start again, but ultimately couldnt let himself take advantage of virgil in that way

He also apologizes, telling Virgil "Showing weakness isn't bad. I told you once that you had to stay strong and not let anyone see it, but I was wrong" and that he understands if Virgil doesnt accept his apology right away or if ever

And Virgil doesnt completely accept, not yet, but he's willing to try

It ends happily with them going down to dinner with the others. (possibly Virgil having moments with the others??)

the end

BONUS, Written Scene from Chapter 11 w/ Virge's and Janus's reunion because I was self-indulgent and wrote ahead

“Oh my dear Anxiety,” A silky voice croons, so achingly familiar.

He sniffles, raising his head to meet eyes with the much older face of his best friend; Deceit. It has to be, there is no other side whose left side of face is reptilian in nature. He’s crouching beside Virgil, only one set of arms present at the moment. He’s wearing a funny outfit, but then Deceit has always dressed funny, just like Creativity. Neither of them have ever been worried about standing out.

“Dee!” Anxiety cries out, all but flinging himself onto the older side. The velocity of it flattens the two onto the ground, with Deceit letting a small grunt from the impact. He’d be more worried about possibly hurting Deceit if he wasn’t too busy bawling his eyes out into the strange cape Deceit is wearing.

Deceit strokes his hair, so soft and gentle. Then two sets of arms hoist Anxiety upwards, settling him onto Deceit’s lap. Deceit hugs Anxiety, cocooning him in a warm embrace. For a moment, everything feels normal again. As if they’re all kids still and Anxiety had sought Deceit for comfort after a bad nightmare.

Then Deceit speaks, saying words meant to be comforting. They are comforting at first, until Deceit says things that don’t make sense. And Anxiety knows Deceit is a liar, that he says things that aren’t true. But he knows when Deceit isn’t lying. They’re best friends after all.

“Shhh, it’ll be alright. Shhh, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I hurt you and I’m--”

“No!”

“No?” Deceit repeats.

“No, it--it--you didn’t do anything bad, you wouldn’t!” Anxiety says, nearly shrieking, “You’d never, ever, hurt me. We’re best friends and best friends don’t do that.”

A strange, choking noise erupts from Deceit. Anxiety looks to see Deceit’s human eye glistening. His best friend’s lips quiver, like Anxiety gets when he gets too scared to speak. Except Deceit is never scared. He always knows what to say in a situation, confident in ways Anxiety could never be.

“Oh, I’ve forgotten what you were like at this age,” Deceit whispers, so low that Anxiety thinks he wasn’t meant to hear it. Then Deceit shakes his head, a weird laugh escaping him. “You’re going to hate me, Anx. Or rather, you’re going to hate me more after this is all over.”

“You’re lying,” Anxiety accuses, his fingers tightening around the fabric of Deceit’s cloak, “You don’t mean that. I love you, Dee, you’re my best friend and--and...Big Me is still best friends with you, right?!”

Deceit inhales sharply, as if there’s something stuck in his throat. Before Anxiety can even grow concerned for his well being, he breaths out a long dramatic sigh.

He rolls his eyes, smirking, “Alright, you caught me.”

“I did?”

“Yes. I was only lying to scare you out of crying,” Deceit assures him, “I didn’t mean to scare you into thinking we weren’t best friends still. Of course we are.”

“G-good,” Anxiety huffs, “don’t scare me like that, Dee, I don’t like it!”

“I won’t do it again, I promise,” Deceit says, his smirk fading a bit as he takes on a somber expression, “it still isn’t your fault for what happened, Virg--Anxiety. Neither I or any of the others think it is. They certainly despise you for it.”

“Despise?” Anxiety’s heart jumps a bit, “Oh! You mean...you’re saying...they don’t despise me?”

“I don’t know,” Deceit raises an eyebrow, “Why don’t you try reaching out? See what their fears tell you.”

Anxiety closes his eyes, sticking his tongue out in concentration. If he thinks super hard, he can envision everyone's fears like spider webs, branching all over the mindscape, interconnected in some ways and in others, completely disconnected in each side's little corner.

And he is the itsy bitsy spider, that scuttles about and maintains the webs to some degree. Because a little bit of fear is good, it helps keep Thomas alive. So he traces the webs and searching for what Dee suggested. There is one thread present, in every nook and cranny of the web, he searches, even in the splinter-offs. One fear that repeats and loops through the whole network that he has never seen before.

"Oh." Anxiety breathes, eyes widening. They're not afraid of him. They're afraid for him, worried about his safety and wellbeing. Anxiety doesn't know what to think of that.

[skygirl5]

12 Prompts of Christmas - #12 Candy Cane

Twelve - Candy Cane

Returning to her desk with a fresh mug of coffee in her hand, Detective Kate Beckett’s mind was preoccupied with thoughts of her current homicide investigation. She’d had a thought about the security camera footage they received and wanted to go back through it to double check something. The last thing she wanted was to miss an obvious clue.

Her mind was so focused on pulling up the video footage that Kate failed to see the present that had been left on her desk until she nearly placed her coffee mug on top of it. “Oh!” she gasped upon realizing that there were two candy canes atop her desk. They hadn’t just been randomly placed, either. Someone had put the canes down with their hooks facing each other, and each end pressed together so that they formed the shape of an elongated heart. Knowing only one person could have been responsible, Kate glanced around the immediate area, but didn’t see him anywhere in sight. She had only been away from her desk for three or four minutes; he couldn’t have gone too far!

Now curious, she placed her mug to one side of her keyboard and stood slowly, surveying the bullpen more carefully that time. Her fiancé wasn’t even supposed to be in town; he was on a book tour and not supposed to be back until the following day. Evidently his plans had changed—or he’d sent elves to deliver his candy cane heart message. She would have believed either from him.

After two minutes of searching, she spotted him hiding out in a side hallway, just barely peeking around the corner. Wondering what he was up to, Kate strolled confidently down the hall until she rounded the corner and found him casually leaning up against the wall. He greeted her with a nonchalant, “Hey.”

“Hey??” she laughed, still wondering why he was being so weird.

“Did you get my gift?”

“I did. What are you up to?”

He shrugged. “The last tour stop was canceled; the book shop had a major pipe leak and they’ll be closed for weeks.”

“Oh,” she said in a sad tone.

“I know—it’s a real shame for them, especially this close to Christmas, but it meant I got to come home and see you a day early.”

Love shone in his eyes as he reached out and cupped her elbow gingerly. He was extremely respectful of her “no PDA’s in the bullpen” rule but seeing as she hadn’t seen him for three weeks, Kate simply couldn’t resist. She threw her arms around his shoulders, pulled him in close, and sighed out, “I’ve missed you,” into the open collar of his shirt.

His arms wound around her as he sighed out, “Me too. Me too.”

“Hey! Hey! What is this? The make out corner?”

Grumbling at the fact that she’d been caught, Kate pulled out of Rick’s embrace and glowered at her coworker, Detective Esposito. “Don’t you have financial records to go through?”

“Yeah, and I found something interesting. Wanna take a look?”

“I’ll be right there; thanks, Espo.” Turning back to Rick, she sighed, “Duty calls, but I’m very glad you’re back. I’ll try to make it home at a reasonable hour.”

“Woah, woah, woah—I’m not leaving,” he said in an isn’t-it-obvious way. “Not after I haven’t seen you in so long. Besides, you need my help.”

She let out a laugh. “We need your help? How do you figure that?”

“Espo said.”

“I…don’t think he did.”

“It was implied.”

She fought to keep her expression straight but failed and ended up grinning anyway. “Okay, okay—I guess you can listen in on what Epso has to say.”

He scoffed. “You say that like it won’t be helpful. Remember, Kate? I’ve been helping you solve cases for years now. I’m an instrumental part of your team.”

“Is that so?” she asked, trying to keep her tone skeptical.

When he’d showed up at her precinct four years earlier, Kate had been shocked to say the least. After their Christmas Eve dinner together half a decade prior, she’d honestly never expected to see him again. Yet, there he was, asking her to have coffee with him, and subsequently requesting to shadow her and her team. At that point, she once again figured she’d never seen him again after he completed his three-day shadow, but the thing of it was: he never actually left.

For over a year they’d been nothing more than partners—colleagues. Then, the dynamic between them began to shift and, once she finally let herself, Kate realized the real reason why she’d felt such a connection to him that first evening they’d shared dinner together: he was, without question, the person she was meant to spend her life with. Once she stopped denying it, she was as happy as she’d ever been; they both were.

“Yep, definitely.” Bringing his face closer to hers, he wiggled his eyebrows and said, “You’d be lost without me.”

Teasing him she said, “Maybe.”

He grumbled, but then surprised her by quickly moving his face towards hers and stealing a kiss. She scolded him with his first name, but he merely grinned. “Hey, Espo is the one who called this the make out corner. I just had to make sure it lived up to its name.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

Despite herself, she laughed and agreed. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

~

Thank you all so much for reading my 12 Prompts of Christmas stories. I hope you enjoyed them! Merry Christmas!!

[daretosnoop]

Chapter 3: The Secret Room

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Once outside, Nancy gave Renee her chocolate and returned her key. She then walked around the small garden towards the gates that led to the cemetery. Following Henry’s instructions, Nancy eventually spotted the top of the mausoleum. She approached the mausoleum door but they were locked. Looking around the front, she saw the same crow engraving from the paper on the lower left. Along the bottom of the mausoleum were four different designs, a crow, bones, a worm, and a coffin. Odd. Then again, everything that happened so far had been eerie. Nancy placed her paper over each engraving and rubbed the image onto it. She quickly placed the papers back into her coat and hurried back towards the Bolet manor.

Once inside and back at the model mausoleum, Nancy put the engravings into each slot. She heard a click and the mausoleum roof opened to reveal a key. Now where do you go? Then she understood. This was clearly the key for the mausoleum. Pocketing the key, she hurried back towards the study. As she left through the doors, she noticed Henry was not at his desk.

As Nancy approached the mausoleum she could hear muffled sobs. It was Henry! He was, sobbing? Henry was down on his knees and letting out a torrent of tears. Nancy tried to mask her presence but it was too late. Henry heard her boots approaching. He snapped his head towards her direction. They locked eyes. His stunned expression mirrored Nancy’s, but before she could call out to him, Henry jolted up and ran away, the rain quickly masking his figure.

Nancy never knew how to comfort people. She understood grief, but others always found her advice to be too hard to swallow. Henry was clearly hurting more about his uncle’s death then he let on, but Nancy didn’t know what to say to comfort him. Move on? That’s what she did when her mother died. At least, her father never mentioned Nancy having any issues moving on from her mother’s death. Life went on, and she moved with it. Considering Henry’s testy nature, Nancy thought it was best to carry on like she never saw him.

She eagerly unlocked the mausoleum door, anticipating what she would find inside. Silence greeted her. Leaving the door open, Nancy walked through the small interior. She noticed every coffin had a stone marker with the name Bolet. So, this is the Bolet family’s private burial ground. She looked towards the more recent deaths, but Bruno Bolet was not there. There were, however, two other names with the same death date. Henry mentioned his parents died in a car crash. Marianne and Claude Bolet. Now it made sense why Henry was crying out here, alone. Not knowing what else to do, Nancy simply placed her hand on the stone markers and listened to the rain.

From her periphery, Nancy noticed a rolled parchment on the right-hand side of the mausoleum. She picked it up and unrolled it. Two figures stared back at her. A woman with lush brown hair gazed forward. Her eyes stared down at the beholder and a Cheshire smile laced her lips, as if she knew something they didn’t. Her arms were wrapped around a man. He was shorter than her and looked rather plain were it not for the smile on his face and his eyes which were affixed upon his wife. Charming couple, must be Henry’s parents. Then Nancy noticed that Marianne was holding an umbrella in her hand. She smiled. Of course. The kookiness of this family was quickly growing on her.

Nancy tucked the painting within her trench coat and headed back towards the manor. Upon entering she saw that Henry was back at his desk with a dry shirt. He very pointedly refused to acknowledge Nancy and she moved towards the living room. She took down the empty frame, attached the painting of Henry’s parent’s, and placed it back on the wall. Now what? Since each Bolet was holding an object, Nancy was sure that they were clues to something. She sighed. She would have to ask Henry, if he knew anything, and if he was even willing to talk to her.

Bracing herself, Nancy slowly slinked back into the study room. If Henry heard her, he did not give any indication. She moved closer towards the bookcases, thinking of something to say that would allow her to ask Henry about his family. Good god, Nancy, just ask him outright! The worst he can say is no! Or he could throw her out of the house. She leaned against a book shelf and was about to address him when she heard noises coming from the bookshelf. Looking up, she noticed that the stuffed iguana had moved!

The not-stuffed iguana leaped away from the bookshelf, knocking over a crate of books and scurried quickly out of sight. Henry swiveled around from the commotion but Nancy saw that he was not mad. In fact, there was a glint of humour in his eyes and he looked like he was suppressing a chuckle.

“What was that?” Nancy asked.

“That was uncle Bruno’s pet iguana, Iggy. He’s always in here stealing paper. Must be using it to build a nest or something”.

“An iguana! Keen!”

Henry shrugged as his face fell back into a scowl. “Hey, look. I had all those books arranged so they fit perfectly. Could you put them back please? I don’t have time”.

Nancy looked up and saw that Henry had his cell in one hand.

“Sure”.

“Groovy”.

Henry turned around and initiated a call with someone. Nancy eavesdropped for a bit, but there was nothing important. She turned towards the books and started to place them back. Once done, she noticed that one of the books was written by an old acquaintance. Beatrice Hotchkiss, professor of French history. She wrote a famous book on Marie Antoinette based the journal Nancy uncovered when she vacationed in Wisconsin. Looks like she wrote another book. The Crystal Skull: Fact of Fable? Strange, not related to French history. It must have been the result of professor Hotchkiss’s side research. The woman was a genius and always had some side project going on. Nancy opened it and saw a number near Hotchkiss’s name.

Flipping through the book she read about the theory and histories behind the legendary crystal skulls. They came from the Mayans and were made of a single pure crystal quartz. However, the skull’s histories enveloped a vast array of cultures. Some Indigenous communities claimed there to be 13 skulls total, and when united, they would reveal all the secrets of the universe to mankind. Some argued that the skulls came from Atlantis, and others believed the skulls contained some power and would give its owner anything from telekinesis to invisibility. One skull in particular, “The Whisperer” was reputed to give its owner immortality. It had a history of belonging only to owners who did not die of natural causes. Nancy sighed. There was being eccentric, and then there was poppycock. Still, she knew professor Hotchkiss would not write on something that did not have some irrefutable evidence.

As she closed the book, a piece of paper fell out. It had letters randomly spaced out on it. Three letters at the top and four at the bottom. Nancy recognized that the position of the letters matched the position of the photo frames. Perhaps the letters tell me where to place the photos! She hurried back to the living room and was pleased to see that her theory was correct. Each object a family member held corroborated with a letter. Arranging the pictures like the letters, Nancy heard the noise of a door unlocking behind her. She turned and noticed that a portion of the wall opened up. A secret passage way!

Nancy eagerly walked into the secret room and up the stairs. There was a door and it was locked. Rats. She looked at the lock, hoping that maybe she could use a paperclip. Instead there was a metal etching of a spider web with dashes coming out in various locations. I’m guessing that this Bruno Bolet foul proofed the door from blindly breaking in. It was another dead end, for now. Nancy pulled out her phone and took a picture of the lock. Walking back down slowly, Nancy heard noises coming from Bruno’s study. Leaning closer to the wall, she could hear Henry’s voice. He was arguing with someone.

“Aw c’mon Summer! Give me a break! You never said anything about that!” Henry paused listening to Summer’s response. “Well, how was I supposed to know? I mean, what am I? Telepathic? No. No. C’mon Summer. Don’t get upset! Look, I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

There was a silence as Henry listened to Summer’s reply.

“What do you mean ‘something else’? You gotta be kidding me, Summer. I don’t have that kind of money!”

Summer must have said something harsh because Henry quickly changed his tone.

“No. No. I meant, I don’t have it now, but I will soon. Okay? Bye”.

Conversation over, Nancy heard Henry toss his cell onto the table and groan.

Yikes, Nancy thought. On top of a dead uncle, Henry seemed to be having major issues with this Summer person. Has this guy ever been able to catch a break? No wonder why he was grumpy all the time.

As she reached the wall-door, Nancy noticed a spyglass built into the wall. Curious she peered through and saw the study again. Or rather, a specific shelf within the study. There was a zoom button and moving the cursor, Nancy caught the sight of a book, The Eye of the Beholder. Keeping it in the back of her mind, Nancy went out to talk to Henry.

 When she entered the study, Nancy saw Henry looking towards the double doors that marked the entrance to the garden. He had a hand on his cheek and a vacant expression on his face.

“Want me to open the door for some fresh air?”

“No,” came a quiet response. Henry didn’t turn towards her.

Nancy tried again.

“I need to ask you some questions”.

Slowly Henry unfolded from his position and turned to face her. He looked exhausted.

“And what is it you need?” Henry asked in a tone that implied Nancy’s request was not something he wanted.

“I need to ask you about your uncle Bruno”.

Henry made a gesture with his hand for Nancy to continue.

“Okay, look, I know this is going to sound like nonsense, but I’m not losing my mind when I say what I’m about to say, okay?”

Henry gave her a puzzled look, then nodded softly.

“What can you tell me about your uncle?”

Henry shrugged. “Not much more than what I told you”.

“Well, you mentioned he was eccentric”.

“Yep”.

“And this manor isn’t exactly what you would call normal”.

Henry rolled his eyes and gave a small smile.

“Tell me about it. But that’s just your perspective”.

This was interesting to hear. Nancy titled her head and asked, “You find the manor normal?”

“Look at me,” Henry said gesturing to himself. “I fit right in.”

“Well, you are a Bolet”.

Henry stiffened at Nancy’s response. “Doesn’t really mean much. The family name and its meaning left me the day my parent’s died. Now Bolet just means something else”.

Nancy wanted to ask what it meant to Henry, but Henry, despite his firm appearance, looked like he wanted to cry.

“Right sorry, getting off topic. Well, you see, your uncle’s eccentric behaviour, well,” Nancy hesitated. She didn’t really know how to explain it to Henry. It wasn’t unusual in her line of work to stumble across locks and odd clues, but it was rare to see them so intentionally placed.

“I think your uncle is hiding something”.

“What?” Henry asked.

“I don’t know what or why, but your uncle’s eccentricities have a pattern. There are all sorts of wacky locks around the house and they each lead to a clue and another lock. I think your uncle was hiding something from someone”.

“My uncle?” Henry asked.

“Yep”

“Hiding something?”

“Oh ya”.

“And you’re sure your head’s not hurting right now? Cause I think you’ve got a concussion coming on”.

Nancy rolled her eyes.

“I know it sounds mad, but I’m telling you the truth. I can even show you”.

“Look, it’s getting late. Why don’t you just let this go? Whatever my uncle was hiding is not important now. He’s dead, so whatever he’s hiding is not worth anything anymore. Just go on back home and enjoy your vacation”.

Annoyance flared through Nancy.

“It does matter! It does matter Henry Bolet! I don’t know anything about your uncle or the Bolet family but there is clearly something important being kept secret here! Something someone wants desperately. I did not make up that skeleton figure, and if they were willing to attack me for whatever your uncle has, think of what they will do to you, to Renee! You cannot just ignore it!”

“Oh I can ignore it, just like my uncle ignored me”.

“This isn’t about you or your uncle. This is about something bigger. I don’t know what, but if you ignore it… I don’t know, but something’s just not right and in my experience that usually means trouble”.

Henry sighed and Nancy tried to again.

“Please. Just let me show you what I know. If you don’t find any of it intriguing, I’ll go”.

Henry got up and walked over to Nancy.

“Alright, lead the way”.

Nancy led him to the living room, explaining all her work and deductions up till now. She pointed to the mausoleum and pulled out the key it hid from her trench coat. She then pointed to the portrait of Henry’s parents and explained the order that unlocked the secret passage door. She led him up the stairs and pointed to the lock.

“I don’t suppose you know how to unlock this?” she asked. She was about to say more, about to delve deeper into her theories on what might be going on and further steps, but when she looked back at Henry, the man looked pale. He stumbled out of the passageway and melted onto a living room sofa.

 They were endless in their onslaught. While the whispers didn’t give Henry any pain, they were distracting, making it difficult to do anything but listen. They repeated so many phrases to Henry as he tried to work. It didn’t help that there was now another person in the house. While Nancy ran about chasing some skull man, the whispers chased Henry with words.

Garden…skull…man…garden…bury…garden…look…her…spider.

At one point he gave into the voice and went out to the garden. They grew eager and urged him here and there till he found himself at the vulture shrine again. Bury…bury…bury.

“I can’t,” Henry exclaimed to the air, then realized what he had just done. Mad as he seemed to be, the words had their effect and the whispers quieted down. Enjoying the silence, he walked towards the cemetery gates, entered, and wandered around. Even after seventeen years, the paths were familiar. Henry remembered roaming around as an eight-year old. Uncle Bruno gave him free run of the place, for the most part, and a despondent, lonely Henry sought friends in the afterlife. He knew exactly where his legs were heading, the same legs that stumbled upon a solitary mausoleum as a boy. The door was open and when little Henry stepped inside, he saw his uncle yelling at the Bolet engravings, before collapsing in a sobbing heap. Now at twenty-five, the mausoleum stood tall and alone. Henry tried the door, but it was locked. Of course it was locked. When eight-year-old Henry ran away from his crying uncle, the Bolet mausoleum shut Henry out. The ominous building with its locked doors made its message clear, you do not belong here.

“So then where do I belong?” Henry cried out, stupidly to the rain. He collapsed onto the ground and felt warm rain run down his cheeks. No one responded. Even the rain became muffled. So Henry sobbed a thousand apologies though the recipients were long gone and forgotten. He didn’t know how long he sat there, but soon the pitter patter of the rain turned into the clicking of boots and Henry shot his head up to see a woman in a trench coat—Nancy Drew. Sound returned and Henry realized where he was and how he must have looked. The whispers came back.

Skull…man…skull…find…woman…garden…woman…spider.

Henry scrambled to his feet and dashed away. When he got back into the house, he changed his clothes and did his best to ignore Nancy. She, thankfully, didn’t bring up what she saw. But the whispers continued, and when Nancy returned, when she explained her convoluted theories, when she ushered Henry towards the living room and explained her madness, when Henry saw the door to the secret passage way open, when he saw the spider on the lock, he knew deep down that she was right. Bruno Bolet knew something and these whispers were determined he faced his uncle head on.

  “Like I said, I’m pretty sure your uncle was hiding something. Trust me, in my experience people don’t make secret rooms if there wasn’t something to keep secret”.

Nancy continued to pace back and forth, lost in thought as theories spilled out of her. Initially, Henry just pressed his fingers to his nose and listened to her ramble. When he had the energy, he looked up and noticed that Nancy was soaking wet. The rugs are going to need cleaning now. Thankfully, most of the house was hardwood flooring. Henry glanced at his phone. 9:45 p.m. He looked back at Nancy, but she did not seem to be stopping any time soon.

“Henry, I think I need to call professor Hotchkiss. Your uncle seemed to have her number, at least, I think it’s her number. But she might know what’s going on”.

Nancy whirled towards him, eyes bright.

“So, what can you tell me about your family?”

“I already told you, I don’t know anything.”

“No,” Nancy countered. “You said you knew nothing about your uncle. You didn’t mention your family”.

“What’s the difference? I really know nothing”.

“Nothing at all?” Nancy’s voiced dropped as despair creeped in. Her eyes dimmed as she slowly slipped back into thought. Watching her, Henry felt his stomach clench. He searched the recesses of his mind for any scrap of memory, anything that might be of use for her.

“All I know from my parents is that the Bolet’s are an old family, synonymous with New Orleans”.

Nancy did not react and Henry dug further into his memories. It was hard to remember the things you did with your parents when you were young. The world mainly revolved around you. But memories had the ability to preserve expressions. Faces and reactions that you can only explore as an adult.

“My father, he always became sober when he had to return to the family manor. We didn’t live here, so you can imagine my surprise at hearing manor and seeing a bungalow when I came here at eight. My father was a very happy man, especially when my mother was around. He would,” Henry cracked a smile. “He would just light up and the whole room turned bright. Everyone felt the warmth. He usually went to the manor by himself. Mom was busy in the lab, so dad had to go by himself”.

Henry looked up and saw Nancy stare at him pensively. Unable to stand her fixed attention on him, he looked towards his phone.

“It’s getting late,” he started.

“So let me get this straight,” Nancy cut in. “Your uncle dies and it seems he’s designed some locks around the house. Your dad always comes here alone. Your family is wrapped up in the history of New Orleans and no one questions this or tries to change it. And now, a skeleton man appears. Henry,” she suddenly said and her voice dropped. “Is your family running a cult?”

“What,” Henry exclaimed. He jolted up from the sofa and placed his hands on his hips.

“Of all the— “

“I know it sounds weird, but think about it. All I know is that something is being hidden here and everyone respects the Bolets. What other conclusions would you come to?”

“Well,” Henry ran his fingers through his hair. “I wouldn’t immediately jump to cult. What would make you think that?”

Nancy looked away, a little bashful.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been a houseith a secret”.

The stood together in silence for a while until Nancy asked him whether he believed her.

“Frankly, the cult theory sounds rubbish”. His eyes darted towards Nancy but she just gave him a small smile, prompting him to continue. “But, there might be something uncle Bruno was hiding”.

“So,” Nancy began, a smile growing on her face. “Want to help me find out what it might be?”

Henry was taken aback by her smile. He was reluctant to admit that the idea of searching through Bruno’s junk for some treasure was appealing. It didn’t help that Nancy’s smile seemed so mischievous, as is she knew he would find her offer more appealing than the piles of paper that sat on Bruno’s desk. At the thought of the work that awaited him, Henry scowled and shook his head.

“No. I already have enough to do”. He took a deep breath. “It’s getting late,” he started again.

This time Nancy got the hint. She didn’t want to go and was quite ready to stay up the whole night figuring out this case, but she couldn’t well do that in someone else’s house. Darn social politeness! But, if she left now, who knows what would happen tomorrow, or whether even Henry would let her investigate.

“The rain and power outage have most taxi services out of order. I don’t know if you’ll get a cab. You’re going to have to spend the night here”.

Nancy looked at Henry, appalled.

“Don’t worry,” Henry rushed to assure her. “We’ve got plenty of food, blankets, and room. So, it might put a damper on your vacation plans, but you can go back in the morning. I would drop you myself but”.

Henry didn’t finish his sentence and his throat clenched.

“Thank you Henry!” Nancy exclaimed. “You’re a great friend”.

Friend? They barely knew each other.

“Oh we’re going to have so much fun! I tell the best stories, all my friends say so,” Nancy rambled again and Henry looked at her confused.

“We’re not kids. This isn’t a sleepover”.

“Come on Henry, live a little. It’ll be fun”.

Henry just sighed.

“Groovy”.