#he alluded to this being his 'last few months' in the interview i am not ready

[bluespring864]

Sarcastic smile.

More sarcastic smiles.

Winning smirk.

Winning smile.

[ronnie-wood]

posting a 2008 ronnie interview here bc why not viva la information

full article under the cut! this was around 2008 when he was 61 and had an art exhibition, based on artworks he made in his studio in ireland

it's a REALLY interesting interview, and i'm glad i saved it a long time ago :D

a warning for discussions of alcoholism though! u__u i sort of understand bc some of his drinking was motivated by grief when he was young, his girlfriend got killed when he was traveling to a gig

Originally from the Financial Times: Lunch with FT: Ronnie Wood July 19, 2008 1:45 am by Rob Blackhurst Keith Richards once said, “If you are going to get wasted, then get wasted elegantly.” At 61, his fellow Stones guitarist, Ronnie Wood, embodies this louche creed. As he arrives in the reception of Dublin’s elegant Shelbourne Hotel for lunch, cutting a path through huddles of overly nourished politicians and businessmen, he’s dressed in the same size of super-skinny jeans, 28 waist, that he’s been wearing for the past 30 years, a pair of space boots that may once have belonged on an alligator’s back and a tight black shirt undone to the chest: the fruits of a trip to Prada before his daughter Leah’s wedding last month. But, even from 50 paces, it’s the luxuriant crow-black head of hair, flecked with only the tiniest hint of grey, that really marks him out as a Rolling Stone. As he greets me with a warm handshake and naughty, liquorice eyes, he says: “I don’t dye it either.” Alluding to his equally thin bandmates, he adds: “We’re all the same build, as well. It’s a good thing I didn’t join Fleetwood Mac.” We take our place in a booth in the newly refurbished Saddle Room, which is all mirrors and velvet and upholstered in a garish shade that might be described as boudoir gold. Wood squints uncomfortably. “Christ, it looks like Rod Stewart’s trousers,” he says.

The Shelbourne is Wood’s favourite Dublin haunt. “I’ve a good old affiliation with this hotel,” he says. “When we played the Point Depot five years ago we were based here. It was like the Stones coming home to my town.” Wood has lived in Dublin on and off since the early 1990s, when he bought a second home in the southern suburb of Sandymount, searching for a sanctuary for his art and music, and shelter from the British exchequer. He transformed the cow byre into recording studios and the stables into a personal pub called “Yer Father’s Yacht”. It seems a dangerous place for a fitfully recovering alcoholic like Wood; there are 20 more pubs within a square mile of his front door. He looks at the menu reluctantly: “I’m not really hungry at all,” he says. Eventually we opt for 12 oysters from County Clare followed by the seafood platter to share. Nothing stronger than caffeine is ordered, though Wood is going through another well-publicised bout of heavy drinking. “A friend came over last night – I hadn’t seen him for years. We had a few drinks. It ended up being seven in the morning.”

Though he has been woken up for the interview only an hour earlier, Wood is lucid and charming, especially when an espresso arrives to kick-start the conversation. I mention his latest art exhibition, Ireland Studio, a six-week show at his Scream gallery in Mayfair. The exhibition features paintings and pen-and-inks produced – mostly through the night – at his Irish pile over the past 10 years. Free of tour commitments – this year the Stones are on sabbatical after two and a half years on the road – he has been able to spend more time in Ireland with his two Great Danes.

Wood’s interest in art dates back to the early 1960s, when he was a student at Ealing Art College, but he took it up commercially for “grocery money” in the mid-1980s when he had blown a considerable portion of his Stones money on a cocktail of drugs and comically disastrous managers. He flicks through a pile of prints of the front garden of the Priory Clinic, where he has been a regular in-patient; moonscapes from the west of Ireland at night; and horses racing on the Irish turf. Sir Peter Blake and Lucian Freud are among fans of his art: “He [Freud] told Mick [Jagger] that he loves my landscapes. That’s a compliment, from the greatest living artist.” Tracey Emin is a friend: “She’s like my aunt. She rings me up every day to ask how I’m doing.” He pauses and confides mischievously: “Tracey thinks she can draw.”

Most of his collectors are Stones fans in the US: “The leading cancer-curing doctor in Florida – much to his wife’s chagrin – spends most of his money on my paintings. She says: ‘Oh, please don’t sell the house and buy another Ronnie painting!’ Though his portrait of the Stones in a Jacobean interior, “Beggars’ Banquet”, sold in 2005 to a private collector for $1m, he is pricing his Irish landscapes at between £10,000 and £50,000. Deals, he makes clear, can be struck.

Wood has become a kind of official portraitist to the court of celebrity over the past decade – ever since Andrew Lloyd Webber commissioned him to paint the famous patrons of the restaurant The Ivy in the early noughties. Now a Ronnie Wood sitting has become as much a signifier of the upper reaches of stardom as a Hello! wedding deal. His waiting list includes the Stones-mad French president, Nicolas Sarkozy: “I met him and Gordon Brown and he was desperately trying to put me on the phone with Carla Bruni. There are all these people like Scorsese, Clinton, Beckham...” but he trails off, as if bored of the fame whirligig: “I’m trying to get away from the commissions so that I can do what I want,” he says. “This new exhibition is more the stuff that I want to do – landscapes, dogs, horses.” The plate of oysters arrives. Wood is a fan of their nutritional properties. “They’ve got everything you need – all the vitamins and minerals. They keep the zinc up,” he says with a mock leer. Discussion moves to his other day job. I ask whether age has calmed Richards who, Wood recalled in his autobiography, used to hold an arsenal of guns and knives that would be drawn during band frictions. “It’s still on the verge, you know,” he deadpans. “Murder is still quite an easy option. You have to be on your toes all the time.” Nevertheless, Wood is more appreciated now by his fellow Stones than he was when he left the Faces to join them in 1975. For years, as a latecomer who joined when the band had already made their fortune, he had to negotiate his fee on a rising scale for every tour and album. “There was a 17-year apprenticeship,” he says. “Charlie and Bill stood up for me. Nice of them to do that, because they could have carried on looking the other way. I’m part of the empire, finally.” In spite of the Strolling Bones jibes, he thinks the Stones have never sounded better in their 45-year history than they did on the final dates of their tour at the O2 arena last August. He says there’s “talk in the air” of another tour next year.

It must feel odd, I say, to go from playing in front of a crowd of a million in Rio to sitting at home. He becomes melancholic. “I’m more lost when I’m not on tour. I’m in a bit of a muddle at nine o’clock – ‘Where’s the stage?’ On tour there are people directing and supervising you. And then when you finish it’s like, ‘Sit down and watch TV.’ Sometimes I get so bored I think I’ll have a drink. I don’t mean any harm but I just go off the rails.” He points out, however, that he did manage to catch himself last month when he checked in for treatment ahead of his daughter Leah’s wedding so that he didn’t miss the big day. A torrent of alcohol runs through Wood’s life. His account of his upbringing in a council house in Middlesex, the third son of “water gypsies” who had left their barges for dry land, sounds like a preparatory school for a career in rock ‘n’ roll. His father, Archie, played in a 24-piece harmonica band that toured the racetracks of England. At home, there were weekend singalongs around the piano that got so boisterous that a crack appeared in the middle of the house. When the family lawn was dug up 1,700 Guinness bottles were discovered. This may sound impossibly romantic, but his relationship with drink turned darker when, while he was still a teenager, his girlfriend was killed travelling to one of his first gigs: “When Stephanie got killed I sort of drowned my sorrows,” he tells me, “and I suppose I’ve never looked back since.” Does he worry about his own health? He’s dismissive: “Here I am at 61 and I’ve never felt better. I’ve never had a cleaner bill of health. I was just in the Mayr Clinic in Austria. They said, ‘We want to use you as an example of how we want people to end up.’ They said I had the body of a 40-year-old.”

As our seafood platter arrives, Wood dips straight into the crab claws. “These are really cool. I don’t know which sauce you put on them.” As he plumps for the shallots and vinegar, the conversation turns to Jimi Hendrix, with whom he shared a flat for six months in the late 1960s. “He didn’t think he was any good as a singer. I used to say, ‘Don’t worry about that voice.’ He used to obliterate real life by being stoned all the time – and he couldn’t handle it. He didn’t realise how good he was.” His last memory of seeing Hendrix alive, the night before he died in 1970, is haunting. “He was leaving Ronnie Scott’s [jazz club]. He had his arm around a girl and he looked really sad. I went out after him and said, ‘Jimi, you didn’t say goodnight.’”

I try to lighten the mood by asking about the Wood clan – who all seem to have found jobs in the family business. He married Jo, a former model, 23 years ago after splitting with his first wife Krissie, another model. Jo is on the Stones payroll as his dresser and assistant on tour, in between running her organic beauty products business. His stepson Jamie is his manager, and his youngest son Tyrone is curating Wood’s latest exhibition at Scream.

The “Little Red Rooster” ringtone on Wood’s phone sounds. He seems agitated. The call brings news, he says, of The Sun door-stepping his home in Kingston, south-west London. A few days after our lunch I realise that he had been given news that the paper was about to write a story about how during the week of our meeting, he was holed up with a young Russian waitress. Whatever domestic earthquakes are going on in the background, he returns quickly to conviviality, suggesting we finish lunch with a drink elsewhere. Though he is great company, it’s something of a relief when his PR appears to steer him to his next engagement and saves me from making the decision. As we leave the hotel, the kitchen staff lift their ladles and knives in salute, out on the street car horns honk, and Wood poses for an endless round of photos with passers-by, loving every second of it. “That’s always been a big problem with me,” he says with a grin that fades to exasperation: “I find it hard to get old and hard to say no.”

‘Ireland Studio’ is at Scream, 34 Bruton Street, London W1 until August 17; www.screamlondon.com The Saddle Room The Shelbourne Hotel, St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2 12 x Clare Atlantic oysters €33.00 1 x Seafood platter €44.00 3 x Espresso 13.50 Total €90.50

[leossmoonn]

mind games [part eleven]

masterlist | part ten | part twelve

zuko x fem!reader fluff, angst smau (it has the social media elements, but not as much as the last series)

avatar: the last airbender

summary - being zuko’s best friend is the easiest thing in the world. until he gets a girlfriend and you realize you’re in love with him

warnings / includes  (this counts for any/all chapters) - fighting, suggestive, language, crying, alcohol, cheating, talk about injuries, making out, alluding to sex, talks about sex. you are sokka and katara’s older sister. you, mai, and zuko are seniors in college, sokka and suki are juniors, katara, aang, and toph are sophomores.

note - so for this one im gonna be switching pov’s. so for the first half it’ll be 2nd point of view with y/n and the second half it'll be like 2nd point of view but with jet (hope this made sense lol)

————

“so, how has living with jet been?” aang asked. 

“really good,” you smiled. “he’s a really good housemate. he cooks, actually cleans. doesn’t mind that i had to take up a little more closet space.”

“wow, sounds like you have the perfect man,” suki smirked. “i do,” you sighed dreamily. 

you and jet had been dating now for a little more than 4 1/2 months. you two decided that it was time to move in together. you two had already practically been living together so it seemed right to start the next phase of your relationship. you weren’t at jet’s, though. you were at an ice cream shop downtown with your friends. 

living with jet was amazing, as stated, but you rarely saw your friends. college was coming to an end, too. with you and between that and looking for jobs and picking up extra shifts at the JD, it had been very busy. but you had just finished all your finals and was now ready to graduate in the next week, so you were able to relax, finally. 

“how about you guys, how have you been?” you asked. 

“really good! i can’t believe you won’t be at school with us,” katara frowned. 

“yeah, i hate to admit it, but i’m gonna miss you,” sokka said. 

you chuckled, “thanks, sokka. well, i’m not planning one really going anywhere. i’ll just be out of school, which thank the spirits for that.”

“must be nice knowing you don’t have to deal with finals anymore,” toph suck her tongue out in disgust. 

“yeah, i definitely won’t miss that,” you snorted, taking a bite of your ice cream cone. 

“have you found a job yet?” toph asked. ”i’ve found a few. i have yet get interviews, though. i’m waiting until the july to so i can enjoy there summer,” you explained. 

“makes sense. we’ll miss you at the JD,” katara said. 

“yeah, you’re the only one who makes good frappuccinos,” aang chortled. 

“i know. zuko and katara just can’t grasp the recipe,” you teased. 

“i can! i just prefer to make the tea. it’s a lot easier,” katara deafened. 

“don’t worry. i agree,” you smiled. your phone vibrated on the table. 

you turned it over, seeing that there as a text from zuko. 

“is that zuko?” aang asked. “yeah, how did you know?” i asked. 

“he’s been missing you lately,” sokka explained. 

“oh, really? we hung out a couple weeks ago, though,” you said. “exactly. he knows you been busy so he hasn’t asked you to hang out yet, but we told him you’re less busy now,” aang said. 

“oh,” you frowned. “well, he asked if we could hang out today. you guys okay if i go?”

“yeah, of course! we’ve been here for hours, anyways,” suki said. 

“great. still on for the sleepover tonight?” you asked, getting up and grabbing your purse.

“you know it! have fun,” katara smiled. 

“will do,” you smiled back, waving goodbye at them. 

you walked to your car, getting in and driving to your friend’s and sibling’s house. you parked in the garage, going in and seeing zuko on the couch. 

“hey, stranger,” you smiled, taking off your shoes. 

“hey, long time no see,” zuko smiled, getting up. you hummed in reply, opening your arms out and hugging him. 

“i’ve missed you,” zuko whispered. 

“i’ve missed you, too. i’m sorry i haven’t reached out,” you sighed, pulling away. 

“no worries. we aren’t kids anymore. we have our own life,” zuko smiled reassuringly. 

“right. so, you said you wanted to talk about our plan?” you asked, walking over with zuko to the couch. 

“yeah. so, how do i approach her?” zuko ask. “well, i wouldn’t suggest doing it over a date. do it at night so you can go somewhere else and sleep immediately. you two are living together, right?” you asked. 

“yeah,” zuko nodded. “great, well, just tell her you need to talk to her. don’t hint at anything, be neutral about it all and break the news to her,” you explained.

“easier said than done,” zuko chuckled. 

you furrowed your brows and studied his face, seeing the guilt and confusion in his eyes. you leaned against the couch and put your hand on his forearm comfortingly.

“are you sure you want to do this?” you asked. “i am,” zuko nodded. 

“are you sure? like 100% positive?” you checked with him.

zuko chuckled, “yes, i am. plus, i…i like someone else.”

your eyes widened, “o-oh. this is new info. who is it?” your heart started to race and you began to feel very nervous thinking about who he could like.

“i’d rather not say just yet,” he said, averting his gaze from you. 

“alright. well, no pressure,” you smiled softly. your phone then started to vibrate in your back pocket. you pulled it out, seeing that jet was calling you. 

you answered it quickly. “hey, babe, what’s up?”

“hey, when’re you coming home?” jet asked. 

“oh, um…” your voice trailed off as you looked at the clock. “tomorrow? i’m hanging out with zuko right now, and you know i’m having a little sleepover with the girls.”

“oh, right,” jet muttered. you furrowed your brows as he sounded annoyed and sad. you stood up off the couch, holding your first finger up to zuko to let him know you’ll be back in a minute. 

you walked into the kitchen and leaned against the island counter. “hey, you sound sad. everything okay?”

“yeah, i just miss you,” jet sighed. you smiled, “i miss you, too, but i haven't seen zuko or my friends in a while.” “i know, i know. i wasn’t going to make you come home, don’t worry,” jet said. 

“i didn’t think you were. i know you’re understanding.”

you and jet sat on the phone in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before you spoke up. you did a little awkward cough before speaking. 

“so, um, i better go,” you said. 

“oh, yeah, yeah, of course. i’ll see you tomorrow,” jet said. 

“see you tomorrow. i love you.” “i love you, too,” jet smiled, hanging up the phone. 

he sighed and gently threw his phone on the bed. he laid down, running his hands through his hair and down his face. he felt so jealous. so jealous of you and zuko. he knew it was silly since you have been nothing but loyal to him, but the unwanted thoughts of you and zuko still crept into his mind every so often. he was thankful you two didn’t live together anymore and that you lived with him now, but jet was beginning to think that wasn’t enough. 

even though you and zuko weren’t living together and didn’t hang out as often, you two were constantly texting and calling. jet often found you downstairs late at night texting zuko, smiling and laughing at whatever he said. it made jet’s blood boil to see another guy making you happy, especially since it was a known fact - not between you and zuko, though - that you had a thing for zuko a while back. jet was positive that you still had a thing for him, no matter how much you denied it. 

he sat up on his bed and grabbed his phone, getting up and going to the only person he knew would understand; mai. 

he drove to her house, going up and knocking on the door. mai answered the door almost immediately, a surprised but pleasant smile on her face. 

“hey, jet. what’re you doing here?” she asked. 

“i was just seeing if you were free. y/n and zuko are hanging out, and we haven’t hung out in a while,” jet shrugged. 

“right, right. well, come in,” mai held the door open for him. jet stepped in with a smile, walking into the living room. 

“i like what you did with the place,” jet noted, looking around at the new furniture and decorations. there were a lot more brighter colours than he remembered.

“thanks. ty lee said i should make the place more lively,” mai chuckled. 

“glad you took her advice,” jet smiled. 

mai nodded, “are you hungry? i was just about to eat some leftover pizza.”

“yeah, sure. you got any beers?” jet asked. 

“yep,” mai said, going over to the kitchen. “make yourself comfortable!”

“thanks,” jet said and sat down on the couch. 

mai came in with a pizza both and a six pack bottle of beer. mai and jet watched tv for a while, getting drunk on the beer. after a while of silence, mai decided to ask jet about what he thought about you and zuko. 

“so, you jealous of zuko and y/n, too?” zuko asked. 

jet’s brows raised, “w-what?”

mai smirked and turned fully to him. “that’s the reason why you came here, because of zuko and y/n.”

jet sighed, turning to her. “yeah. you caught me.”

“they act like they’re dating each other,” mai rolled her eyes. “zuko is always like “y/n this”, “y/n that”, “look what y/n said”, “sorry, i’m talking to y/n”. god, it’s all so annoying.” “and they always stay up late talking to each other! like, i understand they’re each other’s best friends, but we’re here, too.” “right!” mai nodded. “i wouldn’t be surprised if they were making out right now.” jet frowned and looked down. “you think they are?”

“mmm, i wouldn’t doubt it,” mai shrugged. 

jet looked up at mai, his eyes meeting her’s. he studied her face for a few moments, his eyes roaming her face and stopping at her lips. mai noticed his gaze and smirked, scooting closer to him. she put her hand on his thigh, her fingers snaking up his leg. 

“m-mai, what’re you doing?” jet stammered. his heart was racing a million beats per second. 

“c’mon, we both know zuko and y/n are in love with each other. plus, i’m pretty sure zuko is going to break up with me soon. let’s just have some fun, okay?” mai gave jet a flirtatious look, biting her lip and batting her lashes. 

jet sighed, looking into mai’s eyes. he knew in his heart that you weren’t cheating on him with zuko, or anyone, but the just thought of you with zuko, kissing him, running your fingernails all over his back, moaning his name, it clouded jet’s mind with anger and fear. without thinking rationally, jet smashed his lips onto mai’s. 

both melted into the kiss immediately, grabbing at each other and pressing themselves closer to each other. after a few moments of kissing, jet pulled away, looking a mai with wide, shocked eyes. the kiss with mai honestly felt amazing.

mai smiled at him, taking his hand into her’s. “wanna go upstairs?”

jet nodded furiously, getting up off the couch, mai leading him up to her bedroom. 

————

Like and Reblog!

note - hey guys, sorry for not posting this series for a while, but im back now so :)

taglist is open, just lmk if you wanna be on it for this series by messaging me, commenting, and/or send me a message!

@theblueslytherin @thatarthistorynerd @coldlilheart @akiris @serenitytomothings

[notebooknebula]

Jeremy Knauff - His Inspiring Story of Surviving A Health Crisis

https://www.jayconner.com/jeremy-knauff-his-inspiring-story-of-surviving-a-health-crisis/

If you are interested in hearing and learning the most inspiring story that Jay Conner heard this year, stay tuned and watch this video.

Jay is in the Mastermind group with a gentleman who is phenomenal. His special guest today has experienced a health crisis and survived it.

In today’s episode, they are going to dive deep into the inspiring story of Jeremy Knauff.

Jeremy has become successful not because of brilliance, charm, or a superpower, but rather because he’s always learning and refuses to give up. He is a speaker, author, and founder of the digital marketing agency Spartan Media.

He is an entrepreneur, digital marketer, author, proud father, husband, and a US Marine Corps veteran. Today, he runs Spartan Media, a digital marketing agency where they provide web design, SEO, social media, and PPC marketing services.

“A lot of the people I work with come to me because they have a website but they aren’t getting enough new business out of it. Other people come to me because they’re losing business to competitors, or because they don’t think their website presents their company to potential customers very well, or even because they’re starting a company from scratch and they don’t want to screw it up and waste a ton of money. If that describes you or sounds like anyone you know, let’s connect.” – Jeremy Knauff – https://www.linkedin.com/in/jeremyknauff

If you want to learn how to get funding for your deals using private money, get on over www.JayConner.com/trial  for 30 days of free access to Private Money Academy.

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https://www.jayconner.com/learnreales...

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http://bit.ly/jaymoneypodcast

Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

#RealEstate

#PrivateMoney

#FlipYourHouse

What is Real Estate Investing? Live Cashflow Conference

https://youtu.be/QyeBbDOF4wo

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

Jay Conner (00:04):

If you are interested in learning and hearing one of the most inspiring stories that I've heard this year, I want you to stay tuned. I'm in a Mastermind group where the gentleman that is just phenomenal, he has taken his filter off totally. And he has made it through and survive on the other side, just a very serious health crisis. And so if you are going through a health crisis or, you know someone that is going through a health crisis, stay tuned right now, you're about to be inspired.

Jay Conner (00:45):

Well, welcome to another episode of Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner. I'm Jay Conner also known as the Private Money Authority. And on today's show, we're going to take a little bit of a detour. We're not going to dive deep into real estate per se, but we are going to dive deep into a very inspiring story that can change your life and make a difference. But before we get to my guest, I have got a gift for you. And that is if you're interested in getting funding for your real estate deals, without relying on banks, mortgage companies, any kind of institutional lenders, then here's my gift. I launched earlier this year, it's called the Private Money Academy membership. And twice a month, I go live on a private Zoom coaching call, and I interview successful students. We taught deals. Talk about how we're finding real estate deals, how we're getting them funded with private money.

Jay Conner (01:43):

Again, without relying on banks and institutional lenders. We talk about all kinds of real estate, but I want to give you a free gift. Come join us and check us out at www.JayConner.com/Trial, after the show, get right on over to www.JayConner.com/Trial, And again, if you're on a YouTube or iTunes or Google play, we really appreciate it for you to like share subscribe, rate, and review and on YouTube, be sure and tap that little bell. So you'll be notified. So you don't miss out on any of these fantastic shows and guests that I have on here. Well, as I mentioned or alluded to a moment ago, I'm so excited to have a friend, and fellow mastermind brother, come on here to the show to tell his story and make a difference in your life. So let's bring out of the green room or right on here up front. Mr. Jeremy, Jeremy, are you there?

Jeremy (02:48):

I am here. How are you doing today, man?

Jay Conner (02:49):

Scott, I lost connection. So I'm going to sign out real quick and hop right back in. I'll be right back.

Jay Conner (03:00):

There we are. Jeremy, can you hear me?

Jeremy (03:02):

I can hear you.

Jay Conner (03:03):

All right. Well, welcome to the show, Jeremy. I appreciate so much. You've taken the time to come on and join me.

Jeremy (03:10):

Thank you. It's my pleasure.

Jay Conner (03:11):

You bet you. Well, as I mentioned to everybody here in the opening you and I are in a Mastermind together and a few weeks ago, I heard you speak on stage and I just really appreciated your authenticity and et cetera. But before we jump into your story of breaking through and living through the health crisis tell her about your background story and how you gotten to where you are today and tell a little bit about Spartan Media.

Jeremy Knauff (03:44):

Yeah, so I've had kind of a, an interesting ride. You know, I finished high school joined the Marine Corps, bounced all over the world there for a while. And then started my first business, which was a colossal failure. Pretty much lost everything went into massive debt from there. Spent a few years kind of rebuilding started my second company an agency, and ran that successfully for many years until the episode that you had briefly hinted at in the beginning here, when I had a health crisis that almost killed me. And then, you know, racked up hundreds of thousands of dollars of medical expenses and bills and burn through all of our savings. Basically had to start over from zero, well from less than zero, really because we had racked up debt and, you know, then I had the additional challenge of starting over, which in the marketing world, you know, at that point, I was pretty much on my death bed for about two years. So there was no case studies, there was no examples, there was no clients. So I had to start over from less than zero at that point. And now here I am today.

Jay Conner (04:52):

Wow. So I want us to get into your health crisis story and lessons. We can learn from that, but before we do tell everybody about Spartan Media and what your company does.

Jeremy Knauff (05:04):

So Spartan media is a, basically it's a full service digital marketing agency, but what we've been focusing on lately is taking people and turning them into an authority within their industry. Right now the website doesn't really reflect that because the cobbler's kids always gets shoes last, but what we've been doing lately is taking people and turning them into an authority within their industry. So there's a particular example that I like to use. And that's this example was kind of the pivot point for me. At one point in time, me and a good friend of mine, I ran my marketing agency, he ran a printing company, a particular client together. You know, he did all the printing stuff, we did all the marketing design and all of that. Well, at some point in that relationship, he decided to sell his printing business and go work for client.

Jeremy Knauff (05:58):

And he quickly moved up to become the Chief operating officer. But then because of some things that happened with the founder the company was kind of in turmoil. And they got to a point where I think it was 19 franchisees were walking away from the organization. They were trying to organize a class action lawsuit. They had all kinds of online reputation management problems to deal with. It was just, it was a complete toxic mess from top to bottom, but what happened was because of all the things we were doing for them with the search engine optimization, the social media, the PR, all of the various marketing components. He went from basically having no experience, being nobody in the industry. I left out a piece. He, the founder had to step down and he had to step up and become the CEO because at that point, the relationships were just destroyed.

Jeremy Knauff (06:49):

So as a result of all of the things that we were doing for them, he ended up becoming so recognized. And so authoritative within his industry that last year, before all this COVID stuff happened, I was actually in DC with him. He was lobbying Congress on behalf of his industry. So he went from basically being nobody in that industry to now he's up here talking with congressmen and senators about the laws that affect that industry. So we develop that into a front end service where we basically take someone and turn them into an authority within their industry so that they can get more media coverage, get in front of more people charge more money and you know, make more profit.

Jay Conner (07:31):

So what is your like ideal client? Like what type of industries does your service work well for?

Jeremy Knauff (07:38):

Generally, it comes down to somebody in a, like a professional business services, right? So it wouldn't be necessarily good for a restaurant owner. I mean, although it, theoretically it could help them in some ways it's not going to have the same impact that it might for somebody like you, where you want to be recognized as the person to talk to when it comes to this kind of stuff, private money, hard money lending, stuff like that. So generally somebody that's in a professional business service is going to see the most impact from this.

Jay Conner (08:06):

Okay. That makes sense. Well, let's let's dive into your personal experience and your personal story.

Jeremy (08:13):

Yeah.

Jay Conner (08:13):

So I'm going to turn it over to you to tell that story, Jeremy, and I'll interrupt you when I think I need to.

Jeremy Knauff (08:19):

Okay. All right. So this one was a, this was an interesting ride. I touched briefly on the crisis itself, but basically what happened was I was kind of on top of the world, had plenty of clients had plenty of money. Everything was going great. And then out of the blue, I get hit with this, with this health crisis. And, you know, I went to every doctor under the sun. I was going to the emergency room three to five times a week. I was trying to figure this out. Nobody had any answers and it just kept getting worse and worse and worse. So, I was pretty much on my bed for the first two years of this. You know, we did all kinds of things from a pharmaceutical perspective, from a diet perspective, I was seeing all kinds of specialists. I was seeing, you know, things I would have never considered like, you know, energy healers and acupuncturists and all kinds of non-traditional approaches.

Jeremy Knauff (09:13):

And throughout the beginning of this, it was incredibly frustrating because the doctors didn't know what it was. So they just dismissed it. It was, Oh, well, you're having a, you're having a panic attack. You're having an anxiety attack. Well, I knew that wasn't the case, right? Because I had this pain from basically head to toe from the skin down to the bone and it was constant. It was 24 seven. And it was a level of pain that I have never felt in my life. It was a 10 on my chart. And to put that in perspective, I took a tattoo off with a drum sander once. All right. So I have an abnormally high pain tolerance. So I've got this excruciating pain in basically every cell of my body, no doctors have any answers. There's no idea as to when it's going to end.

Jeremy Knauff (09:58):

And there was a point where I'm walking around my house, as you know, as this stuff is going on. And I didn't mention this on stage, but I have a lot of weapons in my house. A lot of firearms I'm Marine, this shouldn't surprise anybody, but I remember walking around and I would see these weapons in various rooms. And I would be feeling this incredible pain. And I knew that there was no answer. There was no idea as to when it was going to end, how it was going to be solved? And I got to a point where I actually understood how people got to a point where they chose to take their life.

Jeremy Knauff (10:39):

And it got to the point where I actually took everything, disassembled, everything tossed in a duffel bags. And I called a friend and I was like, look, I, we don't really have anything to worry about yet, but I'm just letting you know that I may ask you to come pick these up and store them at your house for a little while. Right. So I've got all these thoughts that are just like, absolutely outrageous. Like I've never had these kinds of thoughts before. And then right around that time, one of the toughest guys I've ever met, a guy I served with, his name was Todd Grant ended up taking his life.

Jeremy Knauff (11:18):

And as Terrible as that situation was, I also feel like it was a sign, right? Like I'm going through this, this happens. And I figured at that point, this is going to be, it's a sign. And we're going to find a silver lining in this situation. And where I saw from that was, this is an opportunity to help fellow veterans. I don't know if you're aware of this, but within the veteran community, we're losing 22 roughly per day to suicide. So from that point, I made it my mission to, despite going through this insane health crisis, despite being in massive pain with no idea what the hell is causing it, or when it's going to end, or if it, if we even could fix it. I'm going to get out there. I'm going to get back on top. I'm going to serve as an example to the other veterans, to the other people who are struggling. Even non-veterans everybody, people who are struggling, people who don't know what they're going to do, they don't see a solution to their problem.

Jeremy Knauff (12:22):

And, you know, I began being very vocal about the challenges I was going through. I was very vocal about what's going on, what you know, how to overcome these things. I was just completely transparent in all of this. And at the same time, I started reaching out to people who I knew were struggling, fellow veterans, as well as civilians. And it got to a point where my number was just freely passed around. And pretty much everybody knew that if somebody was struggling, they could give out my number freely to anybody. And as a result of that, I, there are several people that I've talked to. I've probably counseled hundreds of veterans over the several years that this health crisis has gone on. I remember one particular one that was really moving for me. And that was a buddy of mine from high school, reached out to me one night and he's like, Hey, we've got this guy.

Jeremy Knauff (13:20):

You know, he just got back from Iraq. He's going through all these issues. We've sent him everywhere. He's gone to all the counselors. He's gone to all the, you know, the doctors he's done everything and nothing's working. And he's like, do you mind if I give him your phone number? I was like, absolutely, have him call me. So the kid called me we were out of town visiting a friend of my wife's. And so I take the call. I go outside and I'm talking to this kid for, I don't know, probably two, three hours, get him to a point where I think he's in a good spot. Come back in the house now because of my health crisis, I've got my phone set to where at a certain time in the evening, it goes into do not disturb mode. So it's not going to ring things will still show up on the screen, but it's not going to make any noise.

Jeremy Knauff (14:06):

So, I come back in the house just a few minutes after he and I had talked and I got this little thing that dings up on the phone, no noise, just notification on the screen, it's a voicemail. So I pick it up and listen to it. Cause it was, it was him. And I'm like, well, maybe, maybe something went wrong. Maybe he's still got a problem, whatever. I listened to the voicemail and he's just sobbing uncontrollably. And he's like, I just, like, I don't know what to say. I've talked to all these counselors, nobody's had any answers. And like, I talked to you and you just, you get it. And now I'm like, I'm in a place where I see a light at the end of the tunnel and I see what's possible. And like I'm in a, such a different place than I was even before I was in the military.

Jeremy Knauff (14:45):

And he's like, you know, just thank you. And it was just such an emotional message. And that's the kind of thing that I took out of this whole experience is the silver lining here is had I not gone through this? Had I not had this pain, had this health crisis, had all this stuff happened to me, lose everything, start over and get to a point where I understood how people could take their lives. I may not have ended up on this path where I started helping other veterans and helping other people who are struggling. So that was something that I think I took out of that whole experience, just, you know, to be able to give back into the world in that way and, you know, save people who are struggling in that regard.

Jay Conner (15:28):

Wow. That's amazing. So I know you can't summarize a three hour conversation in three minutes, but what I mean? So you've council just, you know, a lot of people that have had suicidal thoughts and, you know, really, I mean, one of my best friends in the world is I mean, he actually speaks at my live events and a few years ago he took his filter off. And I mean, he had actually gotten to the point of, you know, Googling, you know, how to commit suicide. He'd actually figured out how he was gonna do it. And so he's got his story, but for people that are out there and you know, when the times are going on now, average suicide rates are just out the ceiling before, you know, as compared to historically. But what are some strategies or some therapies that you could share that maybe you have as a common thread when you're talking to people?

Jeremy Knauff (16:42):

From what perspective, as far as like somebody, for somebody who's trying to,

Jay Conner (16:47):

Yeah. Obviously you listened to them in every story is different because every person is different. But is there a way you can share, what are some ways that you get into think about to get into a better place as you?

Jeremy Knauff (17:02):

Yeah. So ultimately you have to look at the situation as an opportunity because every situation is an opportunity provided that you can allow yourself to see it that way. You know, and this was what I went through in the beginning of mine. It was like, well, why me? Why this, this is. Why should this, why should I have to deal with this? But the reality is things happen. The why doesn't really matter. It's up to us to figure out what value we can take from a situation. So what value I took from this, you know, I'm going through this particular thing. And then on top of it, a guy that I served with took his life. Well, I had to find some kind of value in that. And that was how I was able to get through this because now, I mean, think about it, what the hell happens if I decide to take my life? All these hundreds or thousands of people who have been looking up and I've got this thing, I call it the cookie jar, and this is something we'll actually touch on here shortly. Cause this is another way that can help get through these. But like, I've got various messages that I got from people over the years of, you know, how my posts have inspired them or motivated them to push through this particular challenge or that challenge or whatever. So that's a good way to do that is, is having that, what we call it cookie jar, but, had I not done this, had I not found that value in it.

Jeremy Knauff (18:22):

I would not have gone down this path. And I know I don't have the exact count in my head, but I know there's a certain number of people who would not be here today. So, let's say that I didn't, let's say that I got to a point where I took my life. What the hell is that going to show to those people? So now that that meeting is there. That's something to carry me through no matter how bad things get. So as long as we have a strong, why we're going to be able to get through anything, that's why you see, you know, the military doing things that ordinary people can't do. It's because they have a mission and it's not just the mission on paper. It's not, Hey, go kill these guys or blow that up or whatever. It's their mission is the guy to their left and their right in combat.

Jeremy Knauff (19:04):

It's their brothers and their sisters. So when we have a strong, why we have a powerful mission behind what we're doing, that allows us to go through something. And that's why people in general don't accomplish their goals because they want to do it. If it's convenient, they don't want to do it no matter what, they just want to do it when it's nice and simple. So that's, that's one aspect is having a really strong why. The second aspect is the cookie jar thing that I talked about, where you basically take things that you've overcome in your life, right? Like we've all had some pretty terrible things happen to us. So if you can go back and look at those significant challenges, those difficult times and use those as motivation. It's like, Hey, I got through this, I got through that, I got through this.

Jeremy Knauff (19:51):

Then you can use that as fuel. Well, that's just another case of this, right? So now you just, you have that, it's like, I've already done this. Let's just do it again. And the cookie jar, you can look at it in a number of ways. You can have it be something in your head. You could have it be something tangible, like the collection of messages that I've got from various people. It could be, you know, maybe you've got a what a buddy of mine in the military used to call his, I love me wall, all the awards and the recognition and the things he had accomplished. When we have this kind of thing that shows us that what we've done has prepared us for what we're going through now. And I mean, you can even purely look at that from a physical perspective, right?

Jeremy Knauff (20:32):

You know, you look at what we do in the military, or you look at what an elite athlete does, and they're not, let's say you're going to go run a three mile race. You're not going to go run three miles. Your training is going to consist of you running, you know, six, nine, maybe twelve miles. You might do a series of sprints. You might do all these different things that are larger than what you're actually trying to accomplish. So when we look back at the things that we've actually done to prepare for what we're doing in the totality, we've already overcome the thing that we're facing. We just haven't put all the pieces together to realize that.

Jay Conner (21:06):

That is wonderful. Now, you mentioned a moment ago that people you get feedback from people really being inspired and helped with your post. Where could people see your posts and, you know, the types of things that you're posting?

Jeremy Knauff (21:23):

I mean, I'm pretty active on especially on Facebook, but I'm active on most of the social media platforms. I'm not a hard guy to find considering what I do. I'm pretty public and pretty out there. So Yeah.

Jay Conner (21:36):

So Scott, let's put Jeremy's name up there. And so folks, the spelling there is, and if in case you're just listening is Jeremy, J E R E M Y. And his last name is K N A U F F as in farmer farmer. And I guess it's okay to give out your email since we've got it up there on the screen.

Jeremy Knauff (21:57):

Already out there now. It's all over the place anyway. So it's all good.

Jay Conner (22:03):

There you go. So Jeremy says it's pretty easy to find him folks if you want to start following him, I've got one curious question I have is you've talked with all these people. You've helped a lot of people that have considered taking their life. Do you think, or have you heard back and I think I know the answer to this question. Have you heard back, or do you think some of those people that you helped are now out there doing the same thing you're doing and that is helping other people with that situation?

Jeremy Knauff (22:35):

You know, that's a good question. I stay in touch with a lot of them. I don't know if anyone's doing that, but I would hope so. Right. Like, I think that that's something we all should be doing, not just this particular topic, but whatever the topic, right? Like I think we all should be putting value back into the world. And if you know that you've already struggled with the thing and overcome it, then you've got that knowledge, you've got that empathy. You can deal with it in a way that others can't. So I hope, I certainly hope they are. It's. I mean, if you've already got the background, we need to be adding value back to the world in that way. So yes, I hope they are.

Jay Conner (23:10):

Well, you know, it all comes down to serving and I mean, clearly Jeremy, you have got a servant's heart and you said it beautifully, you go through this thing, you overcame the thing and now you can help others do the same thing. I mean, in my education business, the Private Money Authority, it's the same thing I was, no, it's not the same thing. You're not the same thing. The concept is the same. I was, I mean, I've been relying on local banks to fund my deals for the first six years of investing. And this story pales in comparison to yours as far as its importance. But I was cut off from the banks. Then every way to fund my deals, I found a great way to get my deals funding with private money. And then what I started doing two years after that is just teaching other people what I know to do. So, you know, or how to fix the problem now, a mentor mindset years ago, I said, you know, Jay, if people didn't have problems, they wouldn't need us.

Jeremy Knauff (24:17):

This is very true.

Jay Conner (24:20):

And guess what? the world is your oyster because everybody's, got problems. So as we wrap up here on the show final comments Jeremy.

Jeremy Knauff (24:32):

Final comments, I just, I guess, look for ways to add value back into the world. You know, too far, far too often people look at, Hey, what can I get out of this situation or this deal, or this person or whatever. When we look at how we can make something, a win for everybody involved, it creates more value as a whole, and we all rise. So I just think more of us need to take that approach.

Jay Conner (24:57):

Excellent. So one more time folks. Jeremy's very, very easy to find all the social media and all the platforms. Again, you spell his name, J E R E M Y. Last name K N A U F F as in farmer and his company, www.jlknauff@SpartanMedia.com If you are any type of professional and you're looking to be known as the authority and expert in your space, then you definitely want to check out Jeremy and his team it's www.jlknauff@SpartanMedia.com. There you have it. Folks, another show, Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner. I'm the Private Money Authority, and I'm wishing you all the best and here's to taking your business to the next level. We'll see you on the next show.

[fandomfindings]

Fallon

Pairing: (David Dobrik x Reader)

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning(s): None

Summary: David Dobrik imagine where the reader is mentioned during his interview with Jimmy Fallon. Along with him marrying Ms.Nash, the topic of you two getting married comes up, which throws you for a loop. 

Link to the Interview

__________

"What did I miss?" You asked Natalie as you returned from the bathroom and to the side of the stage.

You were currently in New York and on set for The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon. David was making his late-night show debut and you being a supportive significant other, you just had to be there.

"Nothing much. Jimmy and David just started talking about him marrying Ms.Nash." Natalie answered, and just as she did, you heard David talking about how it all began.

"I was sitting in the car with him, and he told me I would never find love, and so," David started, but was cut off by members of the crowd awing at what Jason said.

"He was just joking. He's a funny guy," David assured, causing the audience to chuckle.

Then he continued with his story, "I think it was that same night, I booked a flight to Boston, where his mother lives, and I proposed to her. I surprised her, and I proposed to her, and she was very confused. But when I told her that I want to become my buddy's stepdad, she was 100 percent in, and she thought it was the greatest thing," said David, almost rambling. To you, he was clearly nervous, but he was still excited.

"How old is she?" Jimmy asked before David could continue.

"I think she's 75 or 76," David responded, the crowd finding this funny.

"Yeah, so we flew to Vegas, and we got married there," your boyfriend further explained as Jimmy pulled a picture of a newly married David and Ms.Nash from his desk.

"Yeah, that's us getting married. She's so cute. She's so cute."

Jimmy started laughing and slapping on the desk before asking, "How cool is she to do this, by the way?"

"Oh my God, she's the best," David replied simply.

"So, now you're your buddy's stepdad."

"Yeah. So, after Vegas, I quickly took her to Hawaii. This was like all within three-four days without my buddy knowing. So I took her to Hawaii, and then we came back."

"You went on a honeymoon?" Jimmy interjected.

"Yeah, we went on a quick honeymoon," David responded as if it was the most normal thing to say. The crowd breaks into another laughing fit.

Jimmy laughs as well before commenting," You really commit to a bit."

"Yeah, he thought I was gone for work, and then I came back, and I showed him all the papers that I'm like legally now his stepdad. And everyone had a good laugh, so it was definitely worth it."

"Are you still currently married?" Jimmy interviewed.

'No, I got a divorce."

"Aw," Jimmy said despite his laugh that followed.

"Yeah, and that took me like six months to, like, get it alluded. It took like a really long time to go through all that paperwork," David mentioned, causing you and Natalie to huff at almost the same time. You both remember that time as if it was a horror movie. Those few months were a struggle, to say the least.

"Oh my gosh."

"Yeah, with all the lawyers and stuff, it was just a pain in the ass."

"Isn't that the truth," You mumbled to Natalie, causing her to stifle a laugh.

"So while all this was happening, you were dating someone else?" Jimmy asked once the audience's laughter died down.

"Uh yeah, I was and still am dating Y/N L/N," David answered, causing the audience to cheer and applaud at the mention of your name. The audience's excitement caused a smile to spread across your face.

"And how did Y/N take all of this?"

"Honestly, really well! David exclaimed, causing the audience and Jimmy to laugh once again.

Once David could be heard again, he continued, "We share a similar sense of humor, so we both agreed it was hilarious and therefore worth it," he explained.

"Have you both talked about marriage since then?"

"We have a bit, but nothing set in stone. We’re both still pretty young, so we have time. I do see us taking our relationship to that step one day, though."

David's confession though shocking you a bit, did bring another smile to your face. Like he said, you both had talked about it, but you didn't think it was serious. As the thoughts racked your mind, you feel Natalie nudging you jokingly as she wiggled her eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and turned back to the interview, just in time to hear Jimmy crack a joke.

"Without the divorce, of course," Jimmy joked, causing David, the audience, and yourself to laugh.

"Oh yeah, no. I am not going through that paperwork again."

"David Dobrik, everybody! We'll be right back with more Tonight Show." Jimmy ends, shaking David's hand as the show cuts to commercial. This being David's last segment, he hugs Jimmy before leaving the stage and over to you and Natalie.

"Babe, you did great, I don't see why you were so nervous," You said, bringing him into a tight hug.

"Did I? I feel like my voice cracked a lot, and I messed up some words."

"Only a little," You said, causing David to huff in annoyance at himself.

"Hey, look at me, you did fantastic," You reassured, placing each of your hands on the side of his face.

"Thanks," David mumbled before placing a kiss to your lips.

After he got over his minor mistakes, he was in a better mood, especially when you said you would get him Chiptole before heading to your hotel.

Once there, you and all the squad who joined you in New York got ready for a night of clubbing and partying.

As you got dressed, you decided to ask David about what he said during the interview."Can you honestly see us getting married one day?"

"Yeah, of course. We talked about this," David said calmly, barely looking up from his phone. Evidently, to him, it was apparent he meant what he said, but you were still a bit confused.

"I didn't know you were genuine," You stated, trying to catch his eye in the mirror you were getting dressed in front of.

"Of course, I was serious, David reassured, finally looking up from his phone and to you. You both made eye contact in the mirror before you decided to turn around and face him.

"You sure you're not just using me to become a citizen," You joked, crossing your arms defensively. Unfortunately, David decided to joke back by not responding to what you said. He only pursed his lips and blatantly avoided eye contact with you.

" David!" You yelled.

"I'm just kidding," He said, laughing and rising from his spot on your shared bed. David brought you in for a tight embrace, his arms around your waist.

"You better be," You threatened vaguely.

"And if I wasn't?" David wondered, challenging your supposed threat.

"Then I won't marry you," You stated without hesitation.

"Harsh. Don't play with my heart like that."

"Then don't play with mine. Come on; we have to go. Everyone is probably waiting for us," You said as you tried to remove your boyfriend's arms from around your body.

"Let them wait," David whispered before bringing you in for a lustful kiss. You easily reciprocated but went against it once David started making moves towards your neck.

"Nuh-uh, save it for the wedding night," pulling away from David's embrace and him out of the room grudgingly.

__________

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love David and the Vlog Squad. Considering I recently watched him on The Tonight Show I took it as the perfect opportunity to write about him. Feel free to let me know what you guys think!

Lots of Love <3

[barnesandco]

Nikah: May

Story Masterlist

Nikah: noun, Arabic, meaning the contract of marriage.

Bucky marries Peter’s former tutor because her student visa’s about to expire and the government isn’t granting her a green card. Can she find a way to permanent residence by marriage, and if so, will it be at the cost of their hearts?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angst.

A/N: Written under the Arranged/Accidental Marriage trope for @mermaidxatxheart​ ‘s writing challenge. 

The scent of spices and tea slides like silk into his bedroom, a thief in the night rousing him from his slumber. It's a quarter to three, and he can hear sizzling from the kitchen, adding to the comfortable heat of an early summer night. He curses himself as he scrambles to get up, untangling the maze of sheets around his legs. Almost trips over her prayer mat on the floor on his way out, the lights in the living area blinding, but he has now identified the scent. Lentils. She's reheating the daal maash from last night for her sehri, and a peek over her shoulder from several paces behind her shows him a paratha on the pan. 

"You didn't wake me," He laments, noting how the situations have been reversed since the first time they woke up together. It isn't morning now, but the principle remains. One upset that the other is cooking alone, albeit for different reasons entirely. 

"To no avail, evidently," She answers, sunflower smile wilting on her tired face, although her spirit is anything but. Not a morning person in the first place, this preparation for the day's fast is an exhausting ordeal for his wife, and that's why he wakes up with her.

To tell the truth, he’s still in awe over the phenomenon of Ramadan, and how she not only survives, but thrives in it. Eating and drinking nothing as long as there is daylight, and yet going about her day as if it is ordinary, with no change in her routine except for a brief nap in the afternoon. 

He knows hunger, too, the Depression one of the few things he recalls before everything else. Hunger out of obligation, not choice. Not out of the will to rid yourself of all material needs, not out of the will to sympathize with the unfortunate, and become more grateful for your own fortune, as she says she is. Fasting is a sacred, beautiful ritual, even though he does not like that she is suffering. 

Even in preparation for said suffering, she is calm. Tired, but content, elbow grazing his as they set the table together. Sehri is peaceful, but he will not appreciate that until he looks back upon it in time from an iftaari that is anything but.

He’s beside himself with worry by the time she gets back from her job interview, in spite of her regular texts informing him of her delay. Perhaps it’s because he’s sent too many I’m fine messages to not recognize someone else’s. And indeed, he knows for certain that everything is very much not fine the moment she enters the apartment. The storm in her eyes is a brutal warning, even though she uses a brief hug to umbrella him from it before heading into their bedroom to change in preparation for dinner.

His friends have invited themselves to iftaari, on the condition that they bring the food. It’s something she’s been looking forward to, cautiously, hesitantly, but it seems that whatever happened today has eliminated even that. Bucky assumes the interview didn’t go well, and this suspicion is strengthened when she brushes past him to start removing bits and bobs of a busy household - tea coasters, pens and pencils, loose notes - from sight. No further comment on how the day went. 

“How did the interview go?” Bucky takes the initiative. 

“I didn’t get the job?” She answers, stopping her neat-freak cleaning in front of the hallway mirror at the sight of her hair. The dark locks fall down her back as she opens the bun.

“Why not?”

“Guess they had a better candidate.” She shrugs, refusing to meet his eyes in the mirror as he stands behind her. 

“Darlin’,” Bucky presses as she ties off the braid, letting it fall across her shoulder. It swings over and like a pendulum in front of her back as he follows her to the living room. 

“Dearest,” She teases, the joke not reaching her eyes as she begins to fold a throw blanket. 

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“What happened?” He persists, pressing the pillow he’s adjusting into the back of the couch. She spares him a glance over her shoulder while she puts the drying dish towels back in their drawer. 

“Nothing happened, Bucky. Job rejections are a part of life. This isn’t my first and it sure as he- heck won’t be the last,” She says, back still to him, stumbling over what could be considered a swear word. Apparently, anger and swearing is also off-limits.

“Then what’s the matter?” Bucky gets up from the couch while she comes to sit on it, Quran in her hands.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right, and I’m the damn President.”

“What’s your problem, Buck?” She sighs, closing the book she has just opened, face worn and torn.

“My problem? Honey, you walk in here pissed off like Sam after a bad mission and ask me what my problem is?”

“I’m not arguing with you now,” She says dismissively, looking down again, beginning to read, and Bucky respects her, he does, really, but he can’t let this one go. Not now, not like this. Too many problems arise from a communication gap, from not talking, from leaving people to their own devices. He can’t deal with that.

“Like hell you won’t. I’m not tryin’ to start a yelling match here, sweetheart, but we have to communicate.”

“You sound like a therapist.” She doesn’t look up.

“Maybe you should listen to one,” He retorts, turning his back. This gets her attention. Rising from the couch, she walks around to face him, face livid and tears already ready.

“Fine. You want to know what happened? Yeah, I didn’t get the job. Apparently, I’m too “high profile”, and-”

“Oh, so this is my fault?” Bucky asks, voice tempered and low.

“No. It’s B.S. is what it is. They said my high profile would raise controversy, and reader might not trust reviews I write because of my background,” She finishes, arms flailing agitatedly, brow furrowed and furious. Bucky’s confused. 

“You’re overqualified, doll. I don’t know why you’re applying for these jobs when you’re already a lecturer,” He says. Book critics aren’t PhDs, not usually, and she deserves more.

“I’m visiting faculty. On a contract, which can be renewed, but a visiting job doesn’t provide me with enough basis for a work visa.”

“Work visa? What about the green card you’re doing all this for?” He asks, not realizing he’s using the word you, instead of we. Somewhere along the line, sometime in the past five months, this has become more than a favor. She has become more than someone in need.

“Those things expire. Have to be renewed, and mine won’t be once this is-” She stops, face falling. 

“What? This is what?”

“Nothing.” The anger resurfaces as he understands what she’s alluding to.

“Once this is over, right? That’s what you were about to say? Why’d you stop? You think I don’t know? You think I’m deluded into thinkin’ you could want to stay with me?” Every question mark is another step forward, three steps back.

“Bucky, I-” Saved by the bell. She wipes her eyes with a corner of her dupatta, and goes to answer the door. Bucky steels himself, the anger now a resting mass of resentment in his stomach, pasting a rubber smile on his face as they enter. Sam, Peter, Sharon, Wanda, and Vision, all come in and greet them with noise and the mouth-watering scent of achari chicken. Bucky hopes, for their sakes, that they went easy on the spices, until she reappears in front of him, and he remembers he has bigger problems.

Of course, there is no space to hash it out in a houseful of guests, so they do what they must. The show must go on. Bucky convinces himself they’re doing well at keeping up the pretense with silver tongues and iron smiles, until he overhears a sliver of conversation from the kitchen, where she and Peter have just gone to retrieve cutlery and glasses. 

“You fought, didn’t you?” Peter asks, and he curses the kid’s brightness.

“It’s nothing, Pete.”

“You’d tell me if it were though.” It’s a statement, but the question hangs, suspended in the air, until she shoots it down.

“Of course.” A smile, and they return to help the others set the table.

Peter’s concern, the idea that he, Bucky, could be a cause of concern, tugs the carpet out from under his feet and he feels like he’s falling. Down into his memories like the Harry Potter movies she will stop her channel surfing on, even though she insists she doesn’t like them all that much. Down into the memory of Peter’s first show of brotherly caution.

Bucky had insisted on wearing a suit. Nothing fancy, a simple black two-piece, the collar of his white dress shirt undone. He feels like he’s preparing for a funeral instead of a wedding, tying the laces on his dress shoes. Peter only reinforces this sentiment, grave face set to mourn the fact that one of his mentors is being tied to a ticking time bomb.

Bucky knows that isn’t fair to Peter, the boy has never treated him with anything other than respect - it’s the nerves talking, mostly. It appears that they aren’t the only ones with something to say today. Peter shuffles awkwardly, gusto evaporating at Bucky’s undivided, intimidating attention.

“Spit it out, son,” He tries to help things along, and Peter’s eyes widen.

“Look, I know you’re doing this because you want to help, and you have no idea how grateful I am,” Peter begins, wringing his hands at his sides. Bucky leans back, raises an eyebrow.

“But?” 

“But you have to be careful with her,” Peter rushes out, looking at him anxiously as he gets up to comb back his hair one more time. 

“I thought this was the 21st century. Let women do their own thing and all. I mean, I always believed in letting them be, but it wasn’t the norm the way it is now,” He says, putting the brush back in the drawer and turning to Peter.

“Yeah, I know, but still. She’s been through a lot,” Haven’t we all, Bucky thinks, tightening his watch around his wrist. “ And she needs your support. Be careful with her, Mr. Barnes, please,” Peter urges, eyes appealing for his sympathy. Bucky walks up to him, puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him:

“Alright, kid. Alright,” And he hopes this is enough to convey his promise.

He’s let Peter down. Bucky sees it in his eyes as he’s the last to leave, stomachs full and happy, the other Avengers already halfway down the corridor to the elevator. Peter doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. The look in his eyes is enough of a knife in Bucky’s heart, too clear an image of the one he seems to have planted in Peter’s back. 

She’s in the kitchen, quiet, silent, dark. He stands next to her for several long, tense minutes until she exhales, and the room holds it breath for whatever she’s about to say. Except, she decides not to. Leaves the kitchen, heads for the foyer and pulls on her shoes until Bucky asks her where she’s going.

“Out. I need air,” Is her only answer, and he can’t stop her, doesn’t know how to as she leaves. The aftermath of the fallout envelopes him and he thinks: now what? 

Taglist: @suz-123​ @mermaidxatxheart​ @buckyreaderrecs​ @shield-agent78​ @corneliabarnes​ @readerandcinephileingeneral​ @stevieboyharrington​ @notsomellowmushroom​ @veganfangirl5​ @mood-pancakes​ @lbuck121​ @starnight-charmer​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @geeksareunique​ @samingtonwilson​

[scatter-the-stars]

K&B Criminal/detective AU

Please read the author’s note I posted before the story.

Author’s Note: although short, this story deals with murder and child abuse.  Both of these are tough and sensitive subject matters.  If that is something you can’t read, I understand you passing this up.  If you do continue, know I allude to the abuse and nothing else.  Although I wanted a dark subject matter for this fic, I am not the kind of person who can, or will ever, write something like that.

"Hey, hot shot, over here."  Martinez shoots him a grin that says he's teasing while waving him over to the back room.

Blaine rolls his eyes at the name.  "Fuck off, Martinez." 

"What?  I can't tease the man of the hour?"

"I didn't do shit.  You should be thanking Marla."  Blaine thinks of the petrified thirteen year old girl he spotted by the luck of the fucking universe a month ago in a grocery store.  He knew her face.  Remembered seeing it splashed all over the news the year before when she had been taken.  Those wide green eyes and raven black hair that framed her face were something he could never forget.

Her long hair had been cut short.  Like a boy's.  She wore glasses she didn't need.  But none of that mattered.  Because he knew her.  That same sense of familiarity struck him the moment he saw her in that aisle just like it did the first time he saw her picture.  When he saw someone who reminded him so much of Penny.  Of his little sister.

Where he couldn’t save one, he rescued the other.

He can still remember the way Marla clung to him like a baby monkey clinging to its mother.  He can still her soft sobs, and see her anguished face.  What he remembers most is the look of pure happiness in her eyes when she saw her parents for the first time in over fourteen months.

“That girl is a fighter,” Martinez states with pride in his voice.

Blaine agrees with a nod of his head.  Thinks of how that one word, fighter, perfectly describes Marla and what she survived through.

The smell is the first thing that hits him when he steps into the bedroom.  That putrid, unmistakable smell of death.  That smell he will never get used to no matter how many times he encounters it.

"Where's the body?"

Martinez jerks his thumb to what looks like a bathroom.  "It's a fucking mess, man.  This guy makes Jack the Ripper look like the fucking Tooth Fairy."

No truer statement has been spoken.  Blaine has been there since they found the first body.  Or what was left of it.  Saw the mangled, tortured remains of what was left of Jacob Mills.  And he's seen every body that has followed.  Each crime scene is like an ugly reality of the boogeyman's imagination come to life.

"Who's the vic?"  He keeps away from the bathroom for the moment.  Wants to know who he's about to see butchered like an animal.

Martinez scratches the back of his head.  "Elijah Cooke."

"Fuck."  Blaine drops his head back and lets out a long exhale of breath.

"Yeah."  Martinez agrees.  "Can't say I'm not all upset about this one."

Blaine lifts his head and eyes his partner.  "You say that about all of them."

Martinez gives a small shrug of his shoulders.  Pops a piece of gum into his mouth.  "They all deserve it.  If you ask me-"

"I didn't."

"-I want to meet this guy and shake his hand."

Blaine eyes Martinez.  "You want to shake a serial killer's hand?"

Martinez pops his gum.  "I want to shake the hand of the guy taking care of these monsters."

"You're fucked up, Martinez," he says with a short chuckle, not outright disagreeing with his partner.

"That's what the wife tells me all the time."  Martinez grins.

Blaine shakes his head.

"I'm gonna go check out the scene."

"Hey, wait."  Martinez takes a step forward.  A serious expression taking over his face.

"What?"  Worry begins to grow heavy in the pit of Blaine's stomach.

"Before you go in, I need to tell you."  Martinez takes a breath.  "He mentioned you."

Blaine's brows furrow in confusion.  "Who?  Him him?

Martinez nods his head.

"What did he say?"

"See for yourself."  Martinez tips his head in the direction of the bathroom.

The deep breath Blaine pulls in is slowly let out before he steps into the master bathroom.

The mutilated body in the tub stands out amongst the pristine white walls and floors.  Or what he can see of the floors, as pictures are scattered all over the tile.  Pictures he knows are of innocent victims.  Red stains the white porcelain of the tub.  One of the victim's hands—missing a few fingers Blaine notes—hangs over the edge of the tub.  His legs are stretched out in the tub.  Head hanging over the edge.  He's naked.  Slices cover his entire body.  Cuts that were meant to inflict pain and not bring about death.  That along with the fact the guy has been surgically cut open and is most likely missing his heart only reassures Blaine he's right in thinking their killer is a medical professional of some kind.

"Fucked up, right?"  Martinez says when he comes to stand beside him.

"Yeah."  Blaine takes a step closer to the tub.  Leans in a bit to get a better view of the body.  "Did he..."

"Yup," Martinez answers his unfinished question with a grin.  "Pretty sure the coroner is gonna tell us he did that while this piece of shit was alive."

Blaine doesn't scold Martinez for the name.  Because Elijah Cooke is...was a piece of shit.  Worse than.  Anyone who did what he did and enjoyed it is deserving of the name.  And the means in which he died.

He may be a detective and seek justice for the victims of the criminals he captures.  But there’s always that small part of him that wants the kind of justice that Elijah Cooke was served.

"How did he not fight?"  Blaine questions, although he suspects he knows the answer.  The same one Martinez and him had been given the six previous times.

Their guy seems to have a knowledge of drugs.  Uses a cocktail mixture to paralyze his victims before torturing them while they're alive and can feel everything.

"You know how," Martinez replies.  He pops his gum.

“Maid found the body?”

“Yep.  She’s in the kitchen.  Is in quite a state of shock right now.”

Blaine can’t blame her.  Any normal citizen doesn’t stumble on a scene like this and not be affected.

“You talk to her yet?”

“Was waiting for you,” Martinez replies.

Blaine stands back up.  Continues to eye the victim's inner thighs that have been skinned and carved to the bone.

"Did you see your message?"

That grabs Blaine's attention.  He steps away from the tub and over to the mirror, where he knows a message is written.  And just like before, written in the victim's blood, are the words he's memorized by now.  But it's what's underneath them, the new part to the otherwise same message that grabs his attention.

No one should escape justice.

P. S. Tell Detective Anderson thank you

"What do you think he means?"  Martinez asks.

"I don't know," Blaine replies, though he suspects he has a suspicion as to what their guy is referring to.

"This will be a shit show once the news gets ahold of this."

Blaine agrees.  Not only is this another victim of The Advocator, as he's been dubbed by the media, but add to the fact that the victim is Elijah Cooke, a well known man in high society, and journalists will be clambering all over this like flies on shit.

"Fuck!"  He groans again.

This is the last thing Martinez and him need.  They already deal with enough crap from the higher ups.  Add in the media and this is about an even crazier circus show.

"Come on."  Martinez lightly pats his shoulder.  "We've got a maid to interview."

Blaine rubs the back of his neck and nods his head.

He tries to help Martinez with interviewing the still shaken up maid, but he’s no help.  Not when his mind keeps going back to the message that was left for him.  Thankfully, Martinez picks up his slack.

“You okay?”  Martinez asks after they’ve freed themselves of the journalists demanding to know what happened and are safely in his car.

“I don’t know.”  Blaine rests his head back against the headrest.  He lets out a tired, heavy breath.  “That message has me fucked up.”

“Understandable.”  Martinez pops his gum.  “Not every day a serial killer signals you out.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You know what else it could be?”

Blaine turns his head and looks at his partner.  At almost twenty years older than him, with brown hair that is starting to gray at the temples, lines on his face that show a life lived, and a small belly gained from years of “wife’s delicious cooking” as he says, he has nothing but respect for the guy who has shown him everything in this job.

Martinez grins.  “You need to get laid.”

Blaine groans.  “Fuck off, Martinez.”  It’s said in a playful manner.

Martinez chuckles and starts his car.

The entire drive back to the station, his mind lingers on the message he received.  On who left it for him.

As much as he's against personal justice being handed out, he wants to find this guy.  To ask him what makes him think he can do what he's been doing.

                                                     ••••

Hot water runs down his naked, tired body.  The shower a great welcome after the long night he had.  The memory of which doesn't bring him joy as it would a certain type of person.

This isn't some scripted television show where he finds relief in taking someone's life.  He isn't a monster that needs to kill to satisfy some inner beast.  No, he's a normal guy dealing justice while trying to outrun his demons.

He's not fucked-up or crazy.  Not like Bundy or Manson or Dahmer.  He lives a completely normal life.  He has a job he worked hard to obtain.  He has friends.  Has had boyfriends and lovers.

He's normal.

That didn't stop that black spot on his soul to fester and grow.  The spot that was put there by the monster who promised to care for him after both his parents died.  The monster who took his innocence.  The monster he watched struggle for his last breath when he was seventeen and held him under the water in the tub.

The memory of killing Charles Hummel sends a surge of joy through him that no other kill of his gives him.  Some fucked up part of him wishes he could go back and do it again.  Wishes he could make Charles hurt the way he hurt him.  Wishes he could inflict hours and days of pain on that monster.

Kurt pours body wash on the loofa sponge and runs it all over his body.  His fingers pass over the scar on his right side just above his kidney.  Tries to suppress the memory of how he got it.

Not now.

He can't let the memory take over his mind.  It'll only bring a cloud of darkness he can't get out from under.

He thinks of good things.  Of graduating top of his class from medical school.  Of saving a six year old boy a week ago with a punctured lung and broken leg after being in a car crash.

He thinks of him.

The image of Detective Anderson flashes in his mind.  Desire streaks through him like a set off firework climbing into the sky.  Once it beautifully explodes it lights him up.  Heat floods him.  He skims a hand down his chest and torso.  Teases his fingers at the base of his cock.

Eyes fall closed and he thinks of Blaine.  Thinks of him as he runs the palm of his hand along his stiff cock. Wonders how it would feel to run his fingers through his thick curls.  To kiss and lick and bite his tanned skin.  To see him naked, and to ride his cock until he exploded between them.

He grips his cock as he imagines that.  Strokes as he pictures straddling Blaine's trim waist and riding him without a thought or worry.

His orgasm hits him sooner than he likes.  He comes all over his fist and the wall.  Watches his cum slide down and disappear into the drain.  Feels his cock give a twitch as he imagines fucking Blaine's mouth and coming down his throat.

He doesn't touch himself again.  Can't.  Even though he wants to.  Knows he needs to finish his shower and get ready for work.

In his kitchen making a cup of coffee, bread toasting, a grin breaks across his face as he hears the news break about Elijah Cooke.

"Law enforcement is not saying much about the murder of Elijah Cooke.  But what we do know is that he's the latest victim of The Advocator."

Kurt snorts at the ridiculous name given to him.  If he had a say, he would pick something less judicial sounding.

A picture of Elijah Cooke popping up on screen standing in front of one of his high rises has a surge of anger growing in Kurt over everything that man got away with.

Not anymore.

He smiles at the thought.  Remembers how he put an end to Elijah's deeds permanently the night before.

The memory of Elijah's eyes going wide as he silently screamed behind his closed mouth while he cut off one of his fingers pushes away that anger.  The anger over the injustice that while alive Elijah never paid for what he did to his innocent victims.

"Detective Anderson, lead investigator on the case, was asked about the murder but gave no reply."

Kurt feels his insides go all warm when they show a video of Blaine walking with his partner out of the building while all media types yell questions at him.  The stoic, unwavering look of strength on his face makes his heart jump.  The way he seems to bite his inner cheek makes him smile.  He wonders what words sit on Blaine's tongue.  Wonders what he would say if he could.

From the first moment he saw Blaine after his second murder three years ago, he's been intrigued by him.  Wanted to get closer to the man doing everything to stop him.  But he's played it safe.  Has kept his distance.

Last month, though, things changed for him.  He saw the story break when Blaine saved Marla Hilsom.  The desire to meet Blaine in person grew to an almost uncontrollable urge.  He wanted to know about the man who saved others.  Who sought out the monsters of this world.

Like me.

No!

He's not a monster.  He's not like his uncle.  Not like Elijah Cooke.  Or any of the other men he's killed.

Victim.

He's a victim of his past.  A victim of a situation he couldn't control.  None of those men he killed are the victims.  They're the monsters.  The dark spots that take away happiness and hope.  Dark spots that ruin childhoods and dreams.

He's the victim.

Coffee and toast forgotten, television shut off, he leaves his apartment and starts his walk to work.  A big yawn has him stopping at a Starbucks he usually wouldn't step into.  But seeing as he had a long night and didn't have his cup of coffee, he needs the much needed caffeine if he's going to get through his next shift.

The smell of coffee and vanilla and sugar is almost overwhelming when he steps into the store.  He almost turns around and leaves.  Considers just suffering through the terrible coffee in the break room at the hospital.  But the thought of that black sludge they try to pass off as coffee has him stepping into line behind a young girl.

It takes a few minutes before he reaches the counter.  He orders a simple large black coffee.

He grabs his cup when his name is called out.  Goes over to the station to make his coffee as he likes.  Pops the lid off and reaches for the sugar packets.

A hand brushing his has him jerking away.  He looks to see who it is and feels his mouth go dry and eyes go wide when he looks at the man who's been a constant in his fantasizes for a few years now.

Blaine smiles a brilliant, beautiful smile.  "Sorry," he says.  "You first."  He gestures to the sugar.

Kurt stands struck motionless and speechless as he stares at Blaine.  His mind screams at him to say something.  To open his mouth and speak anything.  But that seems impossible at the moment.

"You okay?"  Concern mars Blaine's face.

That snaps Kurt out of his moment of stupidity.  "Yeah."  He smiles and shakes his head.  "I'm sorry."

Blaine's smile returns.  "It's okay."

Kurt decides he likes Blaine's smile.  Wants to see more of it.

He often wondered in the last few years what Blaine would be like in person.  And he can say without a doubt that he's more stunning in the flesh.  From his dark curls and eyelashes that frame his hazel eyes.  To his straight nose and full lips.  Everything about him is better in person.  And up close, he can see the flecks of color in his eyes.  The yellows and greens and browns that make up his eyes that look like a painter flung paint to a canvas and his eyes are the result.

"Blaine."  He says the name with shock and awe, and an underlying hint of need.

Blaine face screws-up in shock and confusion.  "How do you know my name?"

"The news," he quickly replies.  "They were talking about you this morning."

"Right."  Blaine seems relieved by that answer.

"I'm not some crazy stalker, like you thought," he teases.

Blaine chuckles as splotches of red stain his cheeks and neck.

Kurt wants to feel those spots under his lips.  Wants to find out how hot the areas are.  What his flushed skin tastes like under his tongue.

"Sorry," Blaine says.  "Bad habit of being a detective.  I assume the worst of things."

"No need to apologize."  Kurt offers his hand.  "I'm Kurt, by the way."

There's no denying the sharp jolt that runs through him when Blaine's hand slips into his.

By the surprised intake of breath he hears from Blaine, it’s clear he experienced the same thing as him.

"It's nice to meet you."

Blaine shakes his hand.

Kurt hates when he pulls his hand back.  Wants to take it back in his hand.  To pull him close and press their mouths together.  Wants to invite him into his dark, fucked up world.

He doesn't.  He busies himself with pouring sugar into his coffee.  Tries not to think of how close Blaine is to him.  Tries to do the right thing, the safe thing, and block him out.

Blaine can't be a part of his life.  It's not logical or reasonable.  Being with Blaine will only bring out problems he doesn't need to deal with.  Will make life more difficult for him.

That's what he tells himself.  That he should just walk away from the trouble Blaine could bring.

He doesn't listen.

Instead, he turns to Blaine and smiles.  "Would you like to sit at a table together?"

Blaine returns his smile.  "That sounds great."

They sit and talk and get to know each other.  They talk until he has to leave before he's late.  Then they talk for another fifteen minutes.

"I'm sorry," Blaine apologizes as they step out of the Starbucks.

"It's fine," Kurt assures him.  "It's only a few minutes."

"At least let me give you a ride," Blaine offers.  "Where do you work?"

Kurt considers the offer for all of two seconds before agreeing to it.  "At the downtown hospital."

"A doctor.  Sexy."  Blaine smirks and winks to only show he's playing.

Kurt laughs.  He checks the time on his phone.  "Shit.  I really need to go."

They climb into Blaine's car.  He finds himself in front of the hospital less than ten minutes later.

"Thank you."  He opens the door.

"Wait."  Blaine shoots an arm out to grab his wrist.  He stiffens at the touch until he remembers this isn't his uncle.  That he's not about to be dragged to a dark room.

Blaine must notice because he quickly lets him go.  "Sorry."

"No.  It's not you."  Kurt wills his heart to stop hammering and breathing to even out.  "W-What were you going to say?"

Focus.

Breathe.

He thinks.  Thinks of the warm sun on his skin.  Thinks of strong coffee on his tongue.  Thinks of Blaine.

His eyes drift to the man who calms and rattles him at the same time.  The man who feels like the sun on his skin when he's near him.  Who looks as strong as the coffee he drinks.  And he wants to drink Blaine in.  To open himself up and let Blaine give him that strength he seeks out.

"Can I see you again?"  Blaine sounds so hopeful that it cracks the armor Kurt always puts up to protect himself.

No.

He should listen to his head.  Should tell Blaine that he's not dating right now.  That his life is a mess he doesn't want to invite anyone in to witness.

He listens to his heart.

"Yes."

A beautiful smile spreads across Blaine's face.  It's more beautiful than any wonder Kurt has personally witnessed.

"I'm off Friday," he tells Blaine.

"Dinner?"

"Okay."

Blaine reaches in his pocket and pulls out a card.  He hands it to Kurt.  "This has my number.  Call me so we can work out the details."

Kurt clutches the card like a lifeline.  "Will do.  Bye, Blaine."

"Bye, Kurt."

He climbs out of Blaine's car and walks into the hospital where he works.  It seems as if he floats on a cloud the entire day.

By the time his shift ends and he's back in his apartment kicking off his shoes, he's exhausted.  The combination of the night before and hectic day at the hospital has drained him.

He pours himself a tall glass of red wine.  Drinks half of it before pulling out the card Blaine gave him.  Ponders for a moment if he's doing the right thing.

He turns the card over and over again.  Drinks his wine.  Debates.  Argues.  Reasons.

For the first time in a long time a piece of happiness could be his for the taking.  And he wants to greedily take.  Because he felt what Blaine stirred inside him when they talked that morning.  There's no denying that.  No denying the feelings he never felt before.  That weightlessness he's sought out for years but didn't think existed. 

Blaine made him feel normal for the first time since he lost his parents.

Safe.

He'll be safe.  Will make no mistakes. Will do his damnedest to keep his secret from Blaine.  Blaine who is pure and wonderful, and everything a great man should be.

Who his uncle should have been.

Kurt dials the number.

Blaine answers on the second ring.  "Detective Anderson.  Who is calling?"

He smiles at the way Blaine answers the phone.  Full of authority and power.

"Forgotten me already?" he teases.

"Kurt."  Blaine sounds breathless and happy saying his name.  "I didn't know it was you."

"I know."  He laughs.  "Now you do for the next time I call."

"Oh.  So you're going to call me again?"

Kurt pours himself another glass of wine.  He walks to his living room and turns on his laptop.  The screen immediately lights up.  He sets his glass aside and sits on his couch with his laptop.

"Definitely."  He curls his legs under himself.  "What are you doing, Detective?"  His cock jumps at the title.  His mind running crazy with all the ways Blaine and him could have fun with that.

His body aches in a good way.

Blaine's next words send a chill down his spine.

"Working on the Advocator case," Blaine casually answers.

Kurt's glad they aren't talking in person, because he's sure he just went pale as a ghost.

"Oh.  Th-That's interesting."  He tries to come off as nonchalant and uncaring.

He's reminded who he's talking to with Blaine's next question.

"You okay?"

Of course Blaine would catch on quickly that something is wrong with him.  He's a detective after all.

A detective that could turn you in.

Kurt shakes the thought away.  Focuses on Blaine.

"I'm fine.  That whole thing is just scary."  The lie is easy coming off his tongue.

"I know.  If you ask me, though, I have to appreciate the guy."

Kurt's heart stops.  "W-Why?"

"You've seen who he kills.  Scumbags who deserved it."

"True."  He can't control the way his heart races.  Some part, some minuscule part, of Blaine understands why he does what he does.

"Anyways," Blaine huffs.  "Let's discuss something else besides a vigilante serial killer."

Kurt can't contain his grin.

"What would you like to discuss, then?"

"Our date Friday night."

"Okay."

While they talk, Kurt pulls up the information on Gary Edwards.  He plans his date with Blaine while starting a plan to give justice to all the victims of Gary Edwards.

He's a victim.

Not a monster.

"It's a date," Blaine says.

Things could get tangled bringing Blaine into his world.  But that's a risk worth taking.  One he'll happily take.

He smiles.  "It's a date." 

[ingravinoveritas]

Can you imagine the people you seem to adore so much reading what you post? How embarrassed they'd feel? They're not characters, they're real people. It's weird and fetishistic wtf

Okay, Anon…I’m gonna take a stab in the dark and guess that this is in response to my jokey birthday post for Michael from earlier today. Or perhaps the Michael/David RPF I’ve written, if you’ve somehow managed to come across that.

So, let me tell you a funny story. When I watched Good Omens last year and subsequently got into the fandom, I was not at all inclined to write or even allude to any RPF between Michael and David. I’d been through the wringer in my previous fandom, and was far more interested/invested in Aziraphale and Crowley, as well as slowly exploring the careers of Michael and David and all of the things they’d been in that I hadn’t seen. I binge-watched Masters Of Sex, Broadchurch, and every movie of theirs that piqued my interest and that I could get my hands on.

At the same time, I started watching interviews of them. Not just Michael and David together, but separately as well. David’s interview on Graham Norton from 2007, for example, which was the interview that made me love him. And every single absurdly flirty interview of Michael’s with Craig Ferguson just blew my mind and made me fall head-over-heels for his wily Welsh charms.

But those interviews of Michael and David together, Anon. Those were what made me realize that it wasn’t just the characters of Aziraphale and Crowley to whom I was drawn. It was the men behind them, and the very powerful, hilarious, beautiful chemistry between them. The relationship between Az and Crowley worked so well in the first place because of that chemistry, and I found myself seeing it more and more whenever Michael and David were together, and it was utterly irresistible.

Then these two moments happened…

Now, David is a fandom veteran. David’s been around the block and knows what things to say to rile fans up, to get that certain specific reaction out of a crowd. But Michael…Michael is a lovable madman. He did that interview with Richard Herring last summer…and that happened. Apropos of nothing. There was nothing that led up to it, not even a whisper of a mention of GO or the Ineffable Husbands…nada. Zip. Zilch. Niente. And yet…”he’s my lover.”

So between these two moments and the countless interviews of Michael and David together endlessly praising each other, gazing at each other, Michael staring at David’s mouth like he was starving for it…It was like the floodgates opened, Anon. I’ve read and written RPF before (as mentioned above), but I read MS/DT fics long before I ever attempted to write one, because I wanted so much to properly capture their personalities and voices. It took months for me to write anything because I was so concerned about it being true to who Michael and David are. If all I wanted was just to see two hot guys making out–if it was just that generic kink I was after–I could simply watch porn. But my fantasies aren’t about random men; they’re about Michael Sheen and David Tennant. And those fantasies are an extension of what Michael and David themselves have put out in the world for all of us to play with, to imagine, and to enjoy.

So, no, I don’t think Michael or David would be embarrassed by what I’ve written. They certainly do and have been embarrassed by other things–often adorably so–but from every interview or appearance I’ve seen, they also have a sense of humor about themselves. And while I’ve seen horrifying incidents in other fandoms of fans sending their fics to the actors in question, I am in no way doing that with Michael and David. I am not pushing my work into their faces and I never will (though Michael has admitted to reading fanfic in the past and god knows what corners of the Internet he’s lurking in).

It’s unfortunate that you’ve come across my posts and have some issues with them, Anon. But I’m going to offer you a really nifty solution to that very exact same problem: Don’t like, don’t read. Super easy, super doable. This way, the folks who do enjoy what I post (and there seem to be quite a few, as I’ve just recently passed the 1,000 follower mark, which is mind-boggling to me) can keep on enjoying it. I hope this helps you out, Anon, and that this can conclude our interaction and we can go our separate ways. Godspeed, Allons-y, Live Long and Prosper, and Tickety-Boo to you…

[gretchensinister]

Prospie

I was slammed with the compulsion to write an NDU story after rewatching Rise of the Guardians on Easter. In this one, Pitch and Pitchiner (and Proto, because he lives in their apartment) are seniors who host a prospective student. They think about what it means that they’re graduating and show that maybe, just maybe, they’ve grown and changed for good at college.

This continues my take that I started in Getting to Know You, which makes this not strictly a realistic college AU.

The prospective student makes this a crossover, but I want it to be a bit of a surprise. But honestly? Who are we thinking of these days when we think Nightmare + Dork? The incoming freshman class is going to be mighty interesting...

***

“Pitchiner!” Pitch storms in from the kitchen, waving a piece of paper at him. “What. Is. This?”

Pitchiner turns to him but doesn’t get up from his seat on the couch, giving him an exasperated look. “You really went deep in your bubble this time, didn’t you? I told you like, nine hundred times that we’re going to host a prospective honors program student on their, you know, interview and visit weekend.”

“Aren’t prospective honors program students only supposed to be hosted by other honors program students?” Pitch snipes.

At this, Pitchiner does stand up. He takes two long steps closer to Pitch until he’s looming over him, his massive arms folded in front of his chest. “Dear,” he says coldly. “I am in the honors program. I’ve been in the honors program the whole time. You think I’d put up with half the shit you say to me if I didn’t know it was bullshit?”

Pitch stammers, but some deep-seated survival instinct stops him from saying anything else coherent.

Pitchiner can’t help but smirk. “Did you really think I was here on a lacrosse scholarship? God! Mr. Black, of the Massachusetts Blacks, my school did not have a lacrosse team. My scholarships are all academic.”

Pitch looks like he’s had a bucket of ice water dumped over him. “But—but—you don’t work!”

Pitchiner steps back a little from Pitch and runs his hand through his hair, sighing. “I don’t work like you do. Because I don’t think it’s healthy.”

Pitch grimaces at him. “You’ve never…” He becomes very interested in a corner of the room. “You’ve never bragged about it.”

Now Pitchiner pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s because I’m not Piki, and Piki’s behavior towards you is fucked up, re: you guys’ accomplishments.”

Pitch has started to crumple the letter in one hand. Pitchiner watches him claim conscious control over one finger at a time until he’s holding the paper normally again, watches him tamp down whatever else might need to be said between them. “Regardless,” he says, focusing on Pitchiner again, “did the hosting committee even see our apartment before approving you as a host? Did they meet Proto? We cannot host an academically promising high school senior here. It’s unseemly.”

“I applied, and I’ll clean,” Pitchiner says. “The prospie doesn’t need to see whatever the fuck is going on in Proto’s room, or ours. He’ll sleep on the couch bed, and if I have to stay up all night to protect him from a taxidermy ferret surprise, I’ll do it.”

Pitch looks down at the unevenly faded blue couch. “I didn’t even know this was a sofa bed.” He sounds oddly distant and defeated, somehow. “I suppose you already have sheets for it.”

Pitchiner shrugs. “Nah, I was going to grab some from the superstore when I went for groceries later. You know I don’t exactly handle things like a general planning an invasion.”

“And yet you do still handle them.” Pitch still sounds weird, like if he was a flavor he’d be a warhead candy with the sour powder washed off. “But of course, you handled me having a seizure, for God’s sake, and I—I.” His fingers are twitching on the paper again.

Pitchiner places his hand on Pitch’s shoulder. “Let me know if you want to crack all this open some other time, all right? You barging in reminded me that I actually do have to start on cleaning, including fighting with Proto about whatever he’s trying to ferment on top of the fridge, because we both know he was lying when he said it was kombucha.” He lets go. “Or, hey, if you don’t want to ever crack it open, well, we’ve only got a couple more months before we graduate.”

He hadn’t really been thinking about what that meant before he said it, but now that he has said it, he and Pitch lock eyes, and Pitchiner thinks Pitch is feeling the same shock he is. Graduation. Leaving this apartment. No longer being forced into physical proximity with each other. If they wanted whatever they had with each other to continue, it couldn’t continue effortlessly or thoughtlessly. If they wanted whatever they had to continue, a lot of unspoken things would need to be said. Otherwise it wasn’t going to last longer than a futon frame propped against a dumpster on move-out day, something that had served them okay at NDU, but not something to bring away from it.

Pitchiner saw the tightness in Pitch’s jaw that usually meant he was thinking about Piki. He didn’t understand all the family baggage that Pitch and his twin carried, but he knew Piki thought of him as an unsuitable partner for Pitch, and a lot of what Pitch did he did in reaction to Piki. But now, even as he expects that tightness to lock Pitch’s jaw for good, it vanishes. “I do think we should talk,” he says. He smiles, and a little of the sour powder is back. “I really do. But maybe after the prospie is gone.”

“Yeah,” Pitchiner says. “For sure.” He grins. “Now are you gonna let me get on with being Mr. Clean or what?”

“The Brawny Man is much hotter,” Pitch fires back, but he still seems a little uneasy. “Pitchiner, our conversation for later is going to be…well, we will not be the first people to have such a conversation. But there are other things that we’ve never talked about. That, at the time, we agreed never to talk about, at least among those of us who were there. Because it wasn’t always all of us, but sometimes, enough times, it was. You know who I mean by us, don’t you?”

Pitchiner nods. “Me. You. Proto. Jack. Piki. You think we need to talk about…that stuff, too?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Pitch says. “It’s always seemed, well, risky to me to speak about even the nightmares. But as we move closer to graduation, it feels to me as if…as if they’re, I mean, as if it’s retreating somehow. Ebbing.”

“We beat it,” Pitchiner says, though he almost said ‘them,’ like Pitch.

“No,” says Pitch, “not yet. Maybe not ever, for me. But I could believe it for you.” He says this last in a rush, as if embarrassed by the feeling hidden beneath that statement. “The point is, there’s something still there. About us. Around us. We know it. And other people can tell. It was my true first thought when I saw a prospective student would be staying with us.”

“Well…” Pitchiner doesn’t like to think about the things Pitch is alluding to, for a lot of different reasons, not least that he can’t be sure if he feels relief or loss at the idea that whatever it is (whatever they are) that focused on them might be leaving them soon. Because what is there to lose? Nightmares, a bunch of shit that has to have been (has to have been) sleep paralysis, too much other stuff that you probably couldn’t take a picture of or hit with a lacrosse stick, and…more than zero things that couldn’t be explained at all. And the sense that whatever tied all these things together, he, Pitchiner, was the perfect shape for it to fill, if he wanted it. And then instead of all these things happening to him, he would happen to other people. “I guess…if the vibes get bad, let’s just agree to not waste time denying that they’re there. But if they’re really going, I think there’s a good chance the prospie might not even notice. I mean, what, his name’s Jonathan. He’s probably like, aggressively normal, or at least only weird in a smart-kid way.”

Pitch nods slowly. “If he’s supposed to hang out with us in his downtime, though…let’s not invite Jack. Just to…reduce the number of reactive elements.”

“Oh, for sure.”

***

           “My, what atrocious vibes that young man had,” Proto remarks as they wave Jon off to his car on Sunday afternoon. “But I do have the feeling that he got all his questions about NDU answered this weekend.”

           Pitchiner and Pitch glance at each other. “Yes,” Pitch says. “I…think we can be confident about that.”

           “He does make me wonder what it’s like to work in the Admissions Department,” Proto says, “but I don’t think I’ll apply. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go follow a lead for a new mold.”

           “I haven’t invited you home because he’s really the best of my relatives,” Pitch says suddenly. “Not because I don’t care.”

           “Everyone’s got relatives,” Pitchiner says vaguely. “Look, when we were just hanging out Saturday night, I kept wanting to bring up that time with the cave. And that story makes me look like I’ve lost my marbles or need an exorcism or something. I have never wanted to bring it up, ever. I don’t even want to allude to it now.”

           “For me it was that time with my shadow,” Pitch says. “But what was weirder was how pissed off I felt about wanting to talk about it. And he didn’t even ask anything that could have remotely led to that topic of conversation.”

           They lean on the railing of the steps outside their apartment and watch a few more prospective students head out, carrying orange and black folders and key chains and pens, all the promotional detritus of NDU. They look pretty normal. And why not? They are normal, right? The only slight oddity is a pair of twins, but when Pitchiner looks again he sees that the girls look nothing alike, and actually don’t even seem to know each other. He’s gotten too jumpy about doubles in his four years here. Just seeing things.

           But then, he has seen a lot of things. And so has Pitch. And Proto. And Jack. And Piki.

           “I was pissed, too,” Pitchiner says. “Not anymore, though. It left when he left. Along with the urge to spill my guts.”

           “Do you think that we…” Pitch begins, and trails off.

           “Not like that,” Pitchiner says. “Or…well, maybe.” He laughs once. “But not anymore, I think.”

           “I wonder why. Are we no longer…I hate to frame it this way, but, worthy?”

           Pitchiner gives him a funny look. “You want to be worthy of nightmares you don’t even want to talk about?”

           “When you put it that way…but I think you know what I mean.”

           Pitchiner looks across the street and over to the campus again. “I guess I do. I kinda wish I didn’t. But I gotta…I gotta be strong enough, smart enough, whatever, to recognize that it’s not good. If I want to be chosen by something weird and special, I think…I know I can do a lot better than a nightmare. You get what I’m saying?”

           “I…I hope I do,” Pitch says, soft and surprised.

           Pitchiner clears his throat. “Anyway, we don’t really know anything about any of that spooky shit. If it’s backing off, hell, maybe it’s just doing so ‘cause we’re graduating. Makes about as much sense as anything else.”

           Pitch laughs briefly. “Good thing none of us is going into academia, then.” He pauses. “Jon said his goal was to go into archival work, didn’t he?”

           Pitchiner nods.

           “Hmm. You need a graduate degree for that.”

           The spring breeze picks up for a moment, sending some autumn leaves that hadn’t been raked before it snowed scuttling down the street.

           “I think I’m glad that we’re graduating this year,” Pitchiner says.

[daesungindistress]

(1/1) The amount of patience you have in replying to these people amazes me. I, at least, appreciate all the work and research you've done in digging up and explaining all this stuff. The mental gymnastics some of these stans are putting them through literally makes my head hurt. I think the main reason why I enjoy your blog so much, and the reason why i appreciate your lengthy and well thought out responses, is because I feel I went through a very similar thought process with this whole thing.

(2/2). I thought SR was innocent or misrepresented, etc. But the main reason why I decided to not support him anymore was because of his absolute apathy towards the female victims. Whether you believe he’s 100% guilty, 100% innocent or anything in between, you cant deny that he has never ever said 1 word of sympathy or empathy for the female victims. Not 1. His only words were dont get caught. He can express empathy w/o admitting guilt. Why do you want to stan someone like that?

–

First of all, that you think I have any patience left for these people is pretty funny. I mean, I’m glad it looks that way to you, but I’m not exactly proud of the way I’ve been snapping at people this year. I’m not normally like this, promise. I’m just so fed up with everything. It’s been a long, hard year.

“Whether you believe he’s 100% guilty, 100% innocent or anything in between, you cant deny that he has never ever said 1 word of sympathy or empathy for the female victims. Not 1.”

This! This is something that really gets me. Back when I was still rooting for him, every time he would put himself out there and speak I thought, “Please, please say something to or about the women directly affected by this.” Not only did I need to see that he cared, let’s be real, I still cared about him and his image at the time and it would have helped. A carefully worded expression of sympathy, a few words making it clear that he felt contrite about what he’d seen and kept silent about, or even something as basic as an acknowledgement that what had been done to them was wrong. Like so many others, I waited and hoped… and it never came.

At first I reasoned that he couldn’t offer anything resembling an apology because it might be seen as an admission of guilt. Then I learned that viewing hidden camera footage (along with the lesser offense of simply knowing about it), the only evidence of his involvement we had at the time, isn’t technically a crime in South Korea. It isn’t punishable. Which means that speaking up about it, apologizing for his involvement, however minimal, would not have landed him in any legal trouble. Everyone knew he’d been in that chat, everyone saw what he replied to. But he wouldn’t address it.

So then I thought, “Well, an apology could be seen as an admission of guilt on his friends’ behalf. Maybe he’s shielding them.” However, Jung Joonyoung issued a statement of apology the day after the chats were released – yes, the very next day! – admitting to his crimes of secretly filming these women and disseminating the footage in chatrooms, calling what he’d done “illegal and immoral”. Then, just two days after that, Choi Jonghoon also issued a letter in which he apologized to the victims (it’s buried a few paragraphs in)… and in that same letter announced his retirement. Why, when his friends had already publicly taken responsibility for their involvement in the chats, would Seungri choose not to do the same for his? Why withhold his sympathy? Did he even have any? Surely it occurred to him that he should say something… or did it? Compare Jonghoon’s letter of retirement with Seungri’s rather curt announcement in which he positions himself as a victim and a martyr. There’s very little here that feels sincere or truly apologetic; to me it reads more like an angry, offended little boy taking his toys and going home. This is why I have no hope for him learning from this or bettering himself as a person; he doesn’t seem to think he’s done anything wrong.

So, where do the women victims come in? See Seungri’s closing statement in his Chosun interview: “I am greatly apologetic to the many people that looked at me with interest for the last 10 years, the fans and nation that cheered me on, my former company YG, and to my team and colleagues.” Hello? Seems like he’s forgetting someone – or consciously avoiding mentioning them. Even when directly confronted about it in his Chosun interview, when asked why he was a bystander, nothing about his response was remotely remorseful. Instead, what we got was an awkward, bumbling attempt to make himself look better without ever acknowledging the moral degeneracy of it all. Like he was aware of what was expected of him but didn’t actually feel regret over his failure to stop it… he only regrets that people didn’t see him try (if it’s even true that he tried). As if the only thing he cares about is what others think of him, not the victims who he let down, not what’s right or wrong. He issued an apology to Kim Sang Kyo of all people after he was roughed up by police at Burning Sun, something he’s actively tried to distance himself from… but that was when he was still with YG and had a publicist on his side. Yet these women who were assaulted by his friends, clandestinely filmed and exploited, the footage of their bodies spread in chatrooms where he was present, aware of it, and even reacted with humor on at least one occasion… now that he’s on his own, nothing about them. Nothing at all.

To make matters worse, he sent an angry text message to reporters in which he complained about his privacy being violated, his private information leaked without permission. So, what, in his eyes this is only a problem so far as it pertains to him, but when it happens to someone else, and in a way that’s far worse? Not a word.

How can he be so preoccupied with himself? How self-absorbed? What he has done here is display a shocking lack of empathy and awareness for others. I guess he figured that since he wasn’t legally on the hook for anything related to these women and their trauma, it wasn’t his problem. They weren’t his problem. We’re more than nine months in and there’s not been a peep from him about anything that he’s decided doesn’t immediately concern him. His staunch refusal to so much as allude to the women who’ve had their lives turned upside-down by this is very telling.

It’s downright disturbing, to be honest, the more you think about it. Total immersion in a state of self-preservation at best, misogynistic and/or sociopathic at worst.

[taehyungiestummy]

Stuck -- Chapter Three

Masterlist     Previous     Next

Word Count: 3569

           “Our train ride over was nice,” I yawn as the first girl steps up to the table, getting the meet and greet started.

           “Too bad we had to wake up super early,” Emily rubs her right eye.

           In order to get to the meet and greet place early enough to get a good spot in line, Emily and I had to wake up around four in the morning. Then we had to take a train to a city a few hours away. Thankfully, BTS’s manager was kind enough to give us access to the boys’ hotel rooms so we could drop off our backpacks. Then we headed over to stand in line, which is the hard part.

           “We could just run up there, and they would be just as happy,” I fix my face mask with a cute panda mouth on it. “That’s unfair to everyone else though, and would make us look like total bitches.”

           “You have better self-control than that,” Emily pats my head. Her mouth covered by a mask with a cute cat mouth on it.

           “This is like an airport security line,” I grumble, checking out my outfit. I decided on a short while and black striped skirt, a blue t-shirt with Hello Kitty and the definition of cute on it, thigh high black socks with panda faces on the top, grey high-top Converse with Totoro’s of varying sizes scattered on them.

           “It kind of is, but the end is so much better.” Emily’s outfit she picked out is a pair of jean booty shorts, a white t-shirt with an old camera in the center that looks drawn, thigh high black socks with cat faces on the top, low top grey Converse with white polka dots.

           “Is this your first time at a meet and greet?” A girl with a high ponytail turns around with a girl with stick straight hair.

           “Yes, it is,” Emily pulls her mask away from her mouth. “Any tips?”

           “Just be yourself,” the one with straight hair smiles. “Try to keep your emotions as in check as possible. Don’t ass them anything weird or personal.”

           “That’ll be hard,” I chuckle.

           “Sorry?” Ponytail looks at me. “Your mask muffled your words. Could you move it?”

           “Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Emily looks around at the three of us.”

           “Why not? Oh no, do you have a pimple on your chin?”

           I giggle, shaking my head.

           “Well, what is it?” Straight Hair slightly pouts.

           I look at Emily and shrug, “Why not?”

           “Just please, stay calm,” Emily looks over at the two girls.

           I slowly move my mask away from my mouth, grinning with just the right side of my lips. “Hi, I’m Amber.”

           The two girls in front of me are completely shocked. Their eyes widen, and their mouths hang open just a little bit.

           “Okay, the line moved a few steps,” I giggle bringing the girls back to reality, so we can keep up to the ones in front of us.

           “I can’t believe it’s you,” Ponytail whispers, and then clears her throat. “Sorry, don’t know why I just whispered.”

           “No worries,” I rub my hand over the back of my neck. “When you get up to the boys, please don’t say we are here. We’ve been planning this surprise for so long.”

           “Of course,” Straight Hair nods. “We will keep our mouths shut.”

           “Thank you,” I slightly bow.

           “So, what is Taehyung like?” Ponytail asks.

           “He is a cutie,” Emily answers. “Him and Amber fit together so well. They can make each other smile by just being around one another. The look of love they give each other is so pure. I am telling the truth when I say they are the cutest couple I have ever seen.”

           “I can concur,” I nod; my cheeks have a small heat to them. “Tae makes me feel so loved and protected. He’s a lovely boy and deserves only the best.”

           “You are the best,” Straight Hair smiles. “You are so lucky to have caught his eye.”

           “I am not the best,” I shuffle us forward. “I have many problems. A short attention span, people tire me out, I’m antisocial at times, and my mental health has dips that I can’t control.”

           “Taehyung helps you with all of that,” Emily tucks some hair behind my ear. “He loves you for all you are.”

           “I think Taehyung has talked about how you struggle with certain things. “Ponytail says. “He said something about your looks during one interview. I remember him talking about how people make you sleepy. Those issues didn’t keep Taehyung away, and they shouldn’t keep anyone away.”

           “Thank you,” I bite my bottom lip. “If you two have anymore questions to ask, please do ask. Anything to pass the time.”

           For the next hour or so, Emily and I chat away with the two girls. Ponytail’s name ends up being Haewon, and Straight Hair is Mina. They are super kind and funny. Emily even tells them that she is the girlfriend that Namjoon has been alluding to. Both of us give the girls a follow on Twitter. Their days are made before they step up to the boys.

           “This is it,” I pull my mask back up, making sure that it is on properly.

           “Be ready to be scolded for no glasses,” Emily adjusts her mask.

           I roll my eyes, “They can spot me a mile away with them on. I think that can let it slide this one time.”

           “I’m sure they’ll forgive you,” she pats my shoulder. “Well, look at that, you are up.”

           With a small shove from my best friend, I am in front of the first boy.

           “Hello Seokjin-oppa,” I feel my brain swim as everything begins to settle in.

           “Oh, you say my name so cutely,” Seokjin claps a few times before signing my Forever Young album. “You look so cute,” he looks up at me with a smile.

           “I like your blonde hair. The recent music videos were amazing. Your dancing has improved so much,” I pull my mask down. “I’m excited to dance with you,” I smirk.

           Seokjin’s eyes widen a bit, “Is it really my girlfriend’s cousin?”

           I quickly nod a few times, “Surprised?”

           His face relaxes, and a big smile replaces his confused look. “Very. It is nice though. We have missed you two girls very much.”

           I let go of my mask, so it covers my mouth again. “And we have missed you. Do I really say your name in a cute way?”

           “Have I never told you that you do? Something about your American accent makes my name sound so cute from you,” he passes my album to the left.

           “I’ll see you later, Seokjin-oppa,” I giggle. “It is good to be home.

           The two of us smile at each other one last time before I side-step to be in front of Jimin.

           “A cute lover of pandas, I see,” Jimin glances at me before signing my album.

           “Pandas are just so cute,” I feel my cheeks slowly heating up.

           Jimin places his permanent marker down, looking up at me. His black hair even better in person. “So, does the cute panda have a name?”

           “Amber,” I see a flicker of excitement in his eyes when my name leaves my mouth.

           “I know an Amber who is such a cutie,” he sighs. “I wish she’d come and live over here soon.”

           “Is this other Amber an American?” I pull my mask down to show my smirk. “Like me?”

           Jimin takes in a gasp of air, and then in the next few seconds he turns shy. His shoulders rise to hide his blushing cheeks, and a giggle leaves his lips. “I can’t believe I just said all that to you.”

           “You are the real cutie,” I giggle with him. “Look at us, blushing like crazy.”

           “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?” He lets his shoulders fall, and a tender smile appears on his lips.

           “To surprise you,” I cover my mouth with my mask. “I’m here to stay now, so I’ll see you later, Chim-Chim.”

           “Call me oppa too,” he pouts, pushing my album to the next boy.

           “Your black hair is so sexy, Jimin-oppa,” I wink, my cheeks flaming.

           “Thank you,” he bursts into giggles.

           I take a deep breath, side-stepping to be in front of Hoseok.

           “Jimin is such a flirt,” Hoseok shakes his head as he signs my album. “You poor thing. Your face is so red,” he chuckles, looking up at me.

           “The blush will never go away,” I sigh. “That’s why you boys do to me.”

           “Have we met before?” Hoseok furrows his eyebrows together, leaning closer to me.

           “I don’t know, Hobi-opp. Have we?” I pull my mask down.

           He loudly gasps, leaning back. “Kid? Is that really you?”

           I lowly chuckle, “Yes, it is me, Amber. In the flesh.”

           Hoseok repositions in his chair, a lovely smile on his face. “This was a nice surprise,” he runs a hand through his light brown hair. “I know a boy who is going to lose it, though.”

           “I know,” I glance down at Taehyung talking to Mina. “It’s been a few months too long. But, now I am here to stay.”

           “Good, I think we all need you here with us kid,” he pats my head.

           I pull my mask back up. “I need you seven just as much.”

           “Good think you are here to stay,” he passes my album along.

           “I don’t want to be anywhere else,” I nod before stepping to the side to be in front of Jungkook.

           “Hi,” Jungkook hums, signing my album.

           “Hello Jungkook-oppa,” I innocently say, batting my eyelashes.

           Jungkook’s head darts up, and he curiously looks at me. “I don’t think I’m your oppa. You look older. I should be calling you noona.”

           I chuckle, “Oh Kookie, you are so wrong.”

           “You sound so familiar. Do I know you?” He ruffles his dark brown hair with his hand. “Wait, adorable girl?”

           I giggle, “Is that my nickname? Strange, but cute at the same time.”

           “Well, I have to be unique somehow,” he smirks.

           I pull my mask down a for a few seconds. “I like it. You’re cute, and any nickname from you boys makes my heart flutter.”

           “Adorable. Everything you do and say. It’s unreal.”

           “Will you let me call you oppa? I am younger than you.”

           “I’ll think about it. It does sound super cute coming from you, but so does Kookie,” he passes my album to Taehyung.

           I nod, “Whatever is most comfortable for you.”

           “I’ll get back to you. For now, move on to the next boy, you adorable girl.”

           I wink, feeling my chees heat up and watching Jungkook’s redden.

           “Just shuffle over,” he chuckles.

           I side step to be in front of the boy I have wanted to see for so long. “Taehyung-oppa,” I make my voice slightly higher pitched. “I have waited so long to see you. You’re my favorite.”

           Taehyung smiles that boxy smile I fell in love with two years ago. “It is nice to meet you. Was the wait okay?”

           “It was good. I made two new friends.”

           “Ah, that’s always good,” he looks up at me, locking eyes with mine. “Your eyes…they are so pretty,” his smile changes to a tender one.

           “I get lost in yours,” I let my voice go back to normal.

           His eyes widen as it all sinks in. As he realizes who I am.

           I slowly unhook my mask from my ears, placing it onto the table. “Hi babe. Sorry I lied,” I awkwardly grin.

           “Jagiya!” Taehyung bursts up out of his seat, sending his chair tumbling behind him.

           The next moment happens in just the way Taehyung told me it would last might on the phone. His left hand lands on the back of my neck, pulling us together as best he can with the table in between us. He brushes our noses together, and lightly touches our lips in the quickest of kisses. The box smile is back on his face as he rests his forehead on mine. The claps and cheers form the fans around me can’t pull me off cloud nine.

           “Pay back for me lying to you about not being able to fly back on your birthday?” Taehyung places his right hand on the table to keep from falling into me.

           “I hadn’t even thought about it,” I smirk, running a hand through his washed out pick hair.

           “Wait, Amber,” Namjoon stands up, making his chair go flying behind him. “Emily?!”

           Taehyung and I turn our heads to look over at Namjoon to see him with a huge smile on his face.

           “Little one,” Yoongi leans over to look at me.

           “Ha, hi guys,” I giggle. “Hello ARMYs all around me!”

           Taehyung lets go of me, leaning back and seeing his chair has been set back up. “She’s cute, isn’t she?!”

           A chorus of ‘yes’ hits my ears, and I embarrassingly smile as a heat attacks my cheeks once again.

           Namjoon has retrieved his chair, and is sitting back down.

           I grab my mask, seeing security rushing around to calm people down. “I can’t wait to see all the photos and videos of us kissing.”

           Taehyung awkwardly giggles, “Sorry about that. More pictures of us get out every day. Seems kind of pointless now to worry about it.”

           “We can go out and whatever we want without worry.”

           “Will you come behind the table to be with me?”

           “Of course, Tae. I’ve missed you, and I cam here to be with you today.”

           Taehyung passes my album onto Namjoon. “I have missed you more than I thought I would.”

           I side-step, seeing Namjoon giddy makes me even more happy. “She’s almost to you, keep it together Namjoon.”

           Namjoon chuckles, “I can’t believe you kept this from us. It is a nice surprise, though. Welcome back to Korea,” he looks down and signs my album.

           “Good to be back,” I glance over to see Yoongi looking at me.

           “Two boys have missed you very much,” Namjoon passes my album to the boy I see as a big brother.

           “I missed them just as much, and I missed the five other boys almost as much.

           Namjoon messes with his aqua hair, “You are part of this crazy Bangtan family now.”

           “Just the crazy family I needed to join,” I giggle before stepping in front of Yoongi.

           “Little one, you are so sneaky,” Yoongi wastes no time in signing my album. “I could almost call you a brat.”

           “No, you couldn’t,” I pout. “I am too cute to be a brat.”

           “Eh,” he shrugs. “I’ll call my little sister whatever I want.”

           “With your wavy hair, we almost pass as siblings. Though, it’s silver, or grey, and I almost have all blue hair now.”

           “I’m sure that I’ll be coloring it a new shade soon. Regardless, we are siblings. Not blood, but still.”

           I slightly smile. Am I still a brat if I say that I will for sure sing on your mixtape?” I whisper the last word.

           Yoongi grins, holding back a gummy smile. “You’ll love your parts, I promise. Now, get behind this table so you can be with your boyfriend.”

           I giggle, “Maybe I’ll hang out with you. I love you too.”

           “I love you, little one,” he hands me my album.

           I step to the side to wait for Emily. Once she’s next to me, a security man leads us behind the table. Emily takes a seat behind Namjoon, patting his head before taking out her phone. I take my seat next to Taehyung, and he instantly pats my knee with his left hand.

           “You could have sat on my lap,” Taehyung smirks.

           “Oh, shush up,” I giggle, shoving him.

           “You two are super cute,” a girl smiles.

           “Thank you,” Taehyung hums. “It means a lot that ARMY support us.”

           I nod quickly, giving a no teeth smile.

           “All these people must be making you nervous,” the girl says.

           “Just a tad,” I choke out. “Tae makes me feel better.”

           Taehyung sits up a little straighter, “That’s me. Protector of my jagi.”

           As the meet and greet goes on, more and more ARMY comment on how they love Taehyung and mine’s relationship. They find both of us super cute, and think we blend well together.

           At one point, a mail ARMY gets too flirty with me. Taehyung notices how quiet I get, after being so open with everyone else, and grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers.

           “Jagi, ignore him,” Taehyung pulls me into him. “Boys can be so dumb. This one can’t get it through is brain that you are mine.” He places a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

           “Tae,” I whine, watching the boy sulk to the next Bangtan member.

           “Sorry, I just couldn’t stand him flirting so blatantly with me right here.”

           I roll my eyes, pushing him away. “I was getting a bit flustered, so thank you.”

           A few more ARMY pass by, and I calm down as they say nice things about Taehyung and me. My confidence is soaring, and I feel so happy.

           “Hello Taehyung-oppa,” a girl bats her eyelashes and innocently smiles.

           “Hi,” Taehyung smiles back.

           “You are so handsome, oppa,” the girl reaches out and touches Taehyung’s hand.

           “Thank you,” he chuckles. “You are very pretty.”

           I catch the girl’s eyes as Taehyung looks down to sign her album. She has a smirk on her lips and a taunt in her gaze.

           My stomach tightens, and I can’t stand being here as she is clearly trying to get a rise out of me.

           “Tae, I’m going to hand with Yoongi-oppa for a little bit,” I stand up, fixing my socks.

           “What?” Taehyung looks back at me. “Is something wrong?”

           “No, nothing is wrong,” I resist the urge to glance up at the girl. “I’ve just missed him, that’s all.”

           “Okay, I’ll come get you after my last sign.”

           I nod, “I love you.”

           “I love you,” he gives me a wink before turning back to the girl.

           As I walk away, carrying the chair quite awkwardly, I glare at the girl who tried to make me jealous, and succeeded.

           “Little one, why the angry face?” Yoongi ruffles my hair as I place my chair down next to him and plop down.

           “A girl,” I grumble. “Tae is so oblivious when someone flirts with him, but if it is at me, then he always notices.”

           It goes quiet as Yoongi interacts with the fan, but as soon as he can he responds. “Don’t mind him. He’s just too loving. I’ll talk to him, though. Knock some sense into him.”

           “What are the plans for today?” I lean back in my seat.

           “Lunch after this,” Yoongi answers as the girl he was interacting with walks off. “Then a live thing for it being Bangtan’s third year since debut. Then chill in our hotel rooms, and a train ride home early the next morning.”

           “I can’t wait to get home,” I happily sigh.

           “Hello Yoongi-oppa,” the girl that was flirting with Taehyung steps up.

           “Bitch,” I grumble under my breath.

           Yoongi understands in an instant, and becomes very cold to the girl in front of him. “Hello.”

           “I see Amber ran over to you. What are you, her boyfriend now?” She scoffs.

           “She’s my little sister,” Yoongi shoves the album at the girl. “Treat her with respect. Amber is loved by all seven of us, and that is never going to change. Good day,” he rolls his eyes.

           The girl angerly pouts, but makes her way away from the table without another word.

           “Yoongi, thank you for standing up for me,” I brush my hand across his arm. “You didn’t have to do that. Probably shouldn’t have done that.”

           I needed to. No one messes with my little sister like that.”

           The biggest smile spreads onto my face, and it doesn’t leave for the rest of the shot time the meet and greet goes on.

           “Jagiya~” Taehyung tickles my sides.

           “Tae,” I can’t hold in my giggles.

           “Are you okay now? I’m sorry if I angered you.”

           “I’m okay now,” I look up at my boyfriend. “Yoongi cheered me up.

           “Thanks hyung,” Taehyung pats Yoongi’s shoulder.

           “Next time Taehyung, don’t let a girl flirt with you in front of little one, and then just let her walk away,” Yoongi shakes his head.

           “Amber,” Taehyung cups my face with his big hands. “Why didn’t you just come out and say it? I can’t read your mind. Please, speak up, princess.”

           I pull his hands off my face, giving a quick, slightly hurt, smile. “Have I ever done that in a situation like that? She’s gone now, so it doesn’t matter.”

           Taehyung kisses my forehead, “I am sorry. With all my heart. This is so new to me even still. I will do better next time.”

           I wrap my arms around him, resting my head on his chest. “I’ll try to speak up next time. I will not walk away. We are big kids and can figure it out.”

           “This is why we talk it out. Now, you have to let go of me so we can end this meet and greet, and then I will be all yours.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I’m going to be honest, this was one of my favorite scenes to write out of all three books. It was super cute, and I just love it. I hope you enjoyed reading it! I’d love to know what you thought! :D

[angelthefirst1]

Infinity and the world before. ♾️

Season 10 episode 8 had many Coda call backs just as I thought it would, but it also made me think of season 5 episode 9 ‘What happened and what’s going on’, season 5 episode 10 'Them’ and season 5.11 ‘The Distance’ which brought this infinity symbol to mind.

We are circling back around to the events of season 5 and they are about to collide in the middle but they are inverted just as if we are traveling along the infinity symbol.

The title of this episode even suggests it’s a repeat of “The world before” or past events and it’s no coincidence that Alpha’s belt has this symbol on it. The Whisperers story line is where the circling back began in a really obvious way.

I’ve done posts in the past about how season 5 was a half way mark in story, meaning 10 would be a major fulfillment.

Above is a very rough outline of the show so far…

Obviously Rick and Beth are equal opposites, he left the hospital and was reunited with his family very soon after, but Beth did not get that reunion after the hospital and its because her path is inverted so she will get the reunion at the end of her infinity loop (Possibly late season 10 sometime or early 11) but not straight after the hospital like Rick did (season 1)

We have a few other similarities along the way such as:

The Farm/Alexandria with the theme of coming across a safe place with good people and eventually becoming a part of that group (the Farm fell due to a herd but Alexandria didn’t because of its walls (Equal but opposite)

The Governor and Negan. Both wanted what Rick and his group had and tried to take it by force, Rick’s group fought back in both instances.The prison fell and the Governor died while Negan lived and Alexandria survived. (Equal but opposite)

Negan also seems to have eventually learnt that Rick’s way was right and they could all live together while the Governor couldn’t see it.

Grady and the Whisperers.

Both have a female in charge, both think their way of life is right, that they are doing the right thing. They also both can’t be seen to look weak in front of their people.

But they both prey on people’s weaknesses, trick and use people giving them no choice but to serve. The Grady cops had a home (Grady Hospital) while the Whisperers don’t but both these groups wear masks.

The Grady cops wear a uniform that is associated with upholding the law and what is right but in reality they kidnap and hold people against their will.

While the Whisperers wear the masks of the dead when they are very much alive (pretending to be something they are not).

With Grady, Beth was taken against her will but wanted to escape, she had her family come to trade for her where as Lydia was taken against her will and had her mother come to trade for her but eventually she chose to go back voluntarily. So all these groups are inverted or equal opposites of each other and that’s why so much of the Whisperers story so full of Beth symbolism because its repeating themes we saw around the time of Season 5 and Grady.

Let’s go through a few of the most notable things from this episode (10.08) that call back to past events from Beth’s time.

Firstly when Alpha is talking to Dante she mentioned that he had done well at the barn and that now he needed to infiltrate our group, she tells him to find some strangers and lead them to the gates of Alexandria.

This whole dialogue made me think of Aaron first coming across our group in 5.10 he had also found some strangers (at a barn) and not long after led them to the gates of Alexandria.

In 5.10 Aaron a good guy from a community is going out and looking for good people who had no home to bring them back with him.

Rick and group were very suspicious of him and it took a lot of convincing before they believed him. In 10.08 Dante is the bad guy going out looking for people so he can trick Alexandria into letting him in and trusting him.

It took almost no convincing for them to let him in.

Both Rick’s group and Dante had to do the video interview on arrival at Alexandria also.

After arriving at Alexandria we see Dante graffiti “Silence the Whisperers” all over Alexandria, we then we see him turn off the water filtration system making it look like it’s still working but it’s now providing the whole community with tainted water.  No one is suspicious of the water because it looks to be working as normal and all the levers are pointing up as they should be.

Funny… there is a sign on the filtration system from Eugene (sorry i don’t have a photo of it) but it basically says: This is a very complicated filtration device and to see him if something is wrong and not attempt to fix it without him. Eugene is the water quality assurance man.

Back in season 5 we see Aaron, just before he meets our group leaving untainted drinking water for them, but the group doesn’t want to drink it as they are suspicious someone has done something to it and it might make them sick. Again Eugene provides the role of water quality assurance man as he decides to grab a bottle and drink it, he even says he is “providing water quality assurance” to the group by being the one to test it.

Just before this in 5.09 we see the ‘Wolves not far’ graffiti

So it’s an inverted play on the themes running through 5.09, 5.10 and 5.11

In Season 5 the order was:

1. Wolves Graffiti

2. Leave untainted water

3. Meet group in Barn

4. Bring them back to Alexandria.

Season 10 it’s:

1. Barn

2. Meet strangers bring them to Alexandria

3. Silence the Whisperers Graffiti

4. Make the water tainted.

So Dante is inverted Aaron in some scenes.

Now Aaron wasn’t around yet to see the Wolves not far graffiti but that story led to him finding our group.

Lets look at Arron meeting with Mary

Aaron during this episode is still playing the role of looking for good people to a degree, in that he is meeting with Mary the Whisperer and trying to convince her to trust him, give them information, and that they can help each other.

This particular scene reminded me of the meeting point of Coda just before the exchange.

A little exciting extra i found when re watching Coda 5.08 was this scene below with Father Gabriel.

Another piece of fulfillment I just had to show you all, here he has found a bible and inside is the name MARY! Now it’s only in episode 10.08 that Gamma tells us her name and it just happens to be Mary wow! I will be interested to see what future interactions these two have.

In the Kitchen with Carol and Arron and Daryl

Once Arron gets back from talking with Mary and finds out about what Dante did we see him upset and angry and he says “how could I have not known, he’s been here 4 months”

At one point Daryl says “We gotta keep our heads straight, try to figure out WHAT’S GOING ON” (What happened and what’s going on or 5.09) springs straight to mind here and the main points they talk about in this kitchen scene seem to be mostly reminiscent of that past episode but also what may have happened to Beth that we the audience didn’t see.

Aaron tells Carol and Daryl where Mary says the herd is and Carol suggests they get a group, leave straight after the funeral to look for it.

Daryl also says “Lydia’s still gone we gotta figure out what that even means”

So this order of events is:

1. Funeral

2. Find the herd

3. Missing girl

Most of this scene I think alludes to the missing parts of Beth’s story where a possible herd separated her “body” from Daryl and the group after they leave Grady. When they come back after the herd has left, her body is gone.

Part of me thinks that in season 5 some of the group then go looking for this herd to try and see if Beth had turned and joined it, and that’s why her body is missing, it would also explain why the group was split up in 5.09

If this the case the timeline of events back in season 5 would be.

1 Missing Girl

2. Find the herd

3. Funeral (for Tyrese and never find Beth or in this episode Lydia)

The funeral mentioned is obviously Siddiq’s but could also be a reminder of the lack of Beth’s funeral and the time frame close to Tyrese’s funeral, They visually look extremely similar.

Speculation here yes, but as they are repeating the story from the time frame of Beth’s missing body I am not surprised to hear some discussion that would line up with what happened to her.

So finding the herd and the missing girl is the main point talked about just before coughs *Tyrese’s* I mean Siddiq’s funeral.

The next scene is also fascinating as it is Luke, Judith and Michonne in a car/horse and cart Luke and Judith stand out for reasons relating to Beth, Luke (the music)  and Judith (the new sheriff who is also writing the equivalent of a journal) are sitting in the car on the way to ocean side. Once again I see this as a missing link scene possibly a call back to Beth being left in a vehicle when the herd comes through.

They stop at the library and Luke is extremely lucky not once but twice in that he finds a very rare piece of music that he loves and as he is attacked by 2 walkers and a stranger saves him.

The fact that Mr music has a close call, is extremely lucky and doesn’t die in this… the episode that is lining up with Coda stands out to me in a major way because in this same episode we have Dante get killed, who I have talked about previously having many similarities to Beth in the last few episodes.

Such as being an outsider coming into a new community (Dante tricked his way into Alexandria while Beth was forced into Grady)

Both were the medical assistant’s, both used medicine to kill another person (With Beth she was tricked into it and falsely blamed by Dr Edwards while Dante did it deliberately and falsely blamed Siddiq)

Both think about (and in Dante’s case succeed in) killing the doctor.

So I feel like they have shown a repeat of events with two different characters, the medical assistant dies (Beth to the general audience) but the lucky music man doesn’t (we know that the music box kept playing)

This was just a different way of showing the two sides. I also think it shows that if Beth had actually succeeded in killing Dr Edwards she would definitely have died, for real.

So Dante has also played an inverted Beth.

Virgil saving Luck could also point to a stranger saving Beth after her being shot but that remains to be seen.

I don’t have too much to say about the stuff at Ocean side and Virgil except that I think they are showing some inverted themes to Beth. In this scene we see Luke trying to protect Virgil for saving his life Virgil says “I’m just trying to get home to my family” so possibly similar to what happened to Beth.

Next we see the good father Kill Dante, again as I mentioned above if Beth had of succeeded in killing Dr Edwards I believe this would have been her fate too. Locked up with someone coming in and talking it upon themselves to seek justice.

We also see the Good Father coming full circle in terms of what he was like in Coda where he was unwilling to even use a weapon to kill walkers and Carl tries to get him too but at that point he was a coward, he no longer is a coward though and says to Dante “I haven’t always been brave” just before he pulls out his knife and stabs him to death. Talk about change!

The next scene is the group going out to find Alpha’s herd, they cross the boarder and enter into her land, I mentioned earlier how the Whisperers are a repeated inversion of the Grady cops, well it’s now that we are back in their territory that we see very in your face Coda inversions. Like this scene with Carol and Daryl

Carol is about to step on a trap and Daryl comes running to stop her, yes it’s a complete callback to Beth’s trap in Alone where she did step in it and hurt her ankle. But Beth’s trap was pointing to Grady and the fact that she would fall into their trap. Beth’s animal trap scene has a walker with a police badge and gun.

So this scene with Daryl and Carol is inverted Coda, the trap represents Grady. Carol is only and completely focused on Killing their leader but this time Daryl runs forwards and stops her from “killing Dawn” falling in the trap he then says to her “You could have lost a foot“ (another reminder of Beth’s trap pointing to Grady) "Can we stop this shit please? You want her dead so bad you don’t even care what happens to you” exactly what happened in that hallway at Grady with Beth. I’m positive his reaction here to Carol is absolutely because of what happened with Beth in that hallway and he sure as hell will try to stop it this time!

Carol goes on to say “that’s not true”

There is talk of Carol being like a ghost (just like Beth really)

Daryl then hugs Carol and says about Alpha “she’s not worth it” and “she’s a dead woman anyway” this is a inverted way of repeating Daryl shooting Dawn.

I also think they are showing us the difference if Daryl had of stopped Beth before she tried to stab Dawn.

He then talks about them having a future and to not let her take that too.

To wrap up the scene Daryl disarms the trap and Carol walks away and kills a lone walker which made me again think of a complete inversion of this scene where Beth does set off the trap, and Daryl has to kill the walker, as opposed to Daryl disarming the trap and Carol Killing the walker. 

So next the next scene with Daryl and Carol’s group we see them reach the Valley where Alpha’s herd is supposed to be.

Remember this is just after the Grady trap scene.

Daryl is out front and keen to get to the herd.

Once he sees there is no herd, he gets really upset, curses and him and Aaron argue.

Aaron thinks the trap Daryl came across was set recently by the Whisperers and is a sign the Whisperers are protecting the area and that Gamma isn’t lying about the location of the herd, but that Alpha has moved it since.

Daryl thinks the trap was laid by a hunter a decade ago. So we have references to the same trap being set from around a decade ago (Beth would have been at Grady around 8-9 years ago) and then recently. Hmm 🤔 Interesting…

Daryl now focuses all his attention on finding Lydia (the missing girl) which to me is the same as season 5 looking for Beth and the herd.

As this scene comes to an end Aaron says to Carol “I know everything is upside down at the minute but I’m not wrong about this”

This line made me laugh because I feel exactly the same as Aaron… Everything IS upside down at the minute (story wise) and I’m not wrong about it 😂.

The group then starts looking for Lydia. (The Missing Girl)

Carol (the Ghost) had walked away from the trap in the previous scene unharmed, (AKA Beth didn’t die but her body is missing)

 Its not long before this happens:

We see Carol chase after Alpha ,which in turn leads to the group getting trapped in the cave with the herd of walkers.

So Carol is Ghost Beth and we are seeing the after math of Grady.

Grady 2.0

This hiatus is going to be very long… Just like this post.

[ronbegleyformayor]

yeah okay, so I really want to talk about steven grisham.

I had actually made a post about this months ago (started after I finished the second king falls chronicles and finished during the hiatus). I bring this up specifically because the point that I'm trying to make is that something with grisham has been bothering me for a while, and episode 90 just supports my suspicions.

an important place to start here is on what the public perception of steven grisham is. those that like him think that he's an all-american, hardworking politician who is looking out for every citizen of king falls and who won fairly in 2016. they are wrong. those that don't like grisham think that he's a power-hungry, borderline evil himinist who prefers to cater to the bigots in town to keep his positions of influence. I would argue that they are also (partially) wrong.

(I want to be clear here that in no way am I being apologetic towards any of his actions or him as a person. he's a jerk with anger issues, and he clearly thinks that he's a Special Boy™ who deserves the respect he's gotten when in reality a big reason why he has the influence he does is that he tolerates and platforms homophobes, abusers, and racists. that being said, I think that his motivations have a little more nuance than that which we sometimes give him credit.)

the crux of the post that's been sitting in my drafts for months is a statement that lily wright makes towards the end of the second king falls chronicles. one thing that lily is really, really good at doing is cutting through bullshit, and in this episode in doing so she makes a really crucial point that I really haven't seen brought up anywhere else :

"hershel and ron, they fought the law, and the law won. but did they just get off lucky? I've seen men end up in body bags when challenging the reigning of authority. which means it's not the loss of power that gives grisham and goons the shakes. it's something else, something deeper. something darker"

and what about the bit where she talks to riley bevins? I know the scene is partially comedic but there's a very, very interesting line in the interview that I think is overlooked:

"and what they don't understand, what no one understands, is the town leaders? they protect us. [...] what I think you want me to say, ms. wright, is that those three leave the door open to the unknown. that's what you expect. but what if--what if they're trying to keep the door closed?"

so what do these two quotes have in common?

well, in my opinion they both give really interesting, though indirect insight to grisham himself. riley really seems to believe what she’s saying, and lily makes a good point : why didn't grisham just have ron killed die under mysterious circumstances? he certainly didn't seem to have any qualms about letting gunderson get troy killed. and lily alludes to an answer about this. maybe power isn't what grisham is after, not really.

maybe it's control.

just bear with me on this angle with me for a second. grisham knows something. I'm relatively confident that he, harrison, and possibly other members of the himinists (past and present) know about the void, and how that whole deal got started in perdition woods. whether or not it's actually what they're doing, I think grisham, hfbiii, and even gunderson legitimately think that they're some sort of last defense between king falls and the void, and in their eyes, maintaining the status quo is vital to this. after all, as far as we know harrison is directly responsible for this door being opened in the first place, and it seems like the shadowmaker has just been waiting to spread evil into the town. maybe he’s done it before in the past. maybe he takes advantage of political and social instability in the town, which is something that has definitely been a feature since the 2016 mayoral election.

I think that grisham especially views himself as some sort of pained hero making the "difficult decisions" to keep the forces of evil at bay. when he criticizes ron begley in the mayoral debate for being an "armchair politician", I think that comes from the fact that grisham does (or thinks he does) a lot of behind-the-scenes work. this doesn't excuse the fact that he was definitely responsible for fixing the 2016 election, but it suggests that power isn't the reason why he wants to stay mayor. he, along with gunderson and hfbiii have maintained some sort of delicate balance in king falls, one that was disrupted the night tim jensen went missing. you know what else happened that night?

sammy stevens moved to town.

maybe another day I'll make a post about how grisham and sammy are in many ways character foils, but the bottom line is that sammy isn't particularly afraid of upsetting the social order if it means getting to the truth, nor does he believe in much of the paranormal stuff going on in king falls. worse, he encourages this behavior in ben, a lifelong resident of king falls who is at first apprehensive to go against someone he previously saw as a town hero but later becomes an even stronger advocate for the truth than sammy.

ben doesn't get along with grisham, and a lot of that (rightfully) stems from his rather shady behavior surrounding the rainbow lights and emily and tim's disappearance. but you know what's always bothered me? the two attack ads grisham has run against sammy. grisham ran them them both after the election was considered to be settled law by most of the town. sure, maybe he was mad that sammy and ben sided with ron in the election, but the content of both ads was specifically targeted at sammy, at his character and credibility, which at this point has little to do with the election. to me this indicates that grisham had some sort of implicit understanding as to why sammy moved to king falls in the first place. ben may have been a good enough friend not to dig into sammy's past, but grisham certainly knows how to use google and proabaly was able to connect a few more dots than the average person. I think the first attack ad was as much about eroding sammy's credibility as it was about attempting to put a crack in ben's trust in sammy. ben wants to defeat the void, he wants to get jack back, but the issue would never have been raised if it weren't for sammy moving to king falls in the first place, and grisham knows this.

sammy's very existence in the town threatens to completely upset the social (and supernatural?) order that grisham and co. have worked so hard to maintain. I think they understand implicitly that in trying to rescue jack (and mike, debbie, etc.) from the void there's a risk of permanently keeping the door open between king falls and the shadows, and that's one they're not willing to take.

so grisham would rather try and shame sammy out of any credibility he has, try and imply that he and ben are wholly responsible for the uptick in activity surrounding perdition wood (as harrison did in episode 78). why has he reached out to sammy and ben again? I don't know. maybe things have been pushed past some sort of critical point. he says that sammy and ben have something he needs, but if I'm being honest I don't have a clue as to what he's talking about.

what I do know is that the central aspect to grisham's motivations (and I think his personality as well) is his want to maintain the status quo. except, there was a time before the devil's doorstep. we know this. king falls constantly being on the brink of conflict with the void has not always been the normal for the town. grisham is doing more harm in trying to keep things the way they are instead of facing them head on, as sammy and ben are trying to. sammy especially shatters the illusion of normalcy that grisham seems to value, and I think that's why he gets under grisham's skin so easily. it's why he ran the ads against sammy, and it's why he took a swing at him at a public gathering. I just don't think he was expecting sammy to hit back.

[fortheheavenssake]

PG MM Anon Interpretation Collection - 24

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

163: Jan 6

MM ANON … RICKY , RICKY ,RICKY!! …… respect!! …… A HANK-kerchief full of platitudes …… 🎼a speech full of sugar helps the Meganson go down🎼……… 🎼Oh happy days 🎼………… “SHE CAME, SHE SAW, SHE CONNED-CURD…… …”………… “ this must end soon !! very soon”…… We have the technology ……… “Ahhh , The elusive tape”……… Timing is everything!! ……… DM loading it’s guns……… print and be dammed!!

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #161

January 6/2020 HAPPY EPIPHANY EVERYONE!

1800 hrs CST

RICKY , RICKY ,RICKY!! …… respect!! …… A HANK-kerchief full of platitudes

At the Gold Globe awards, by the Hollywood Foreign Press Associations Annual Awards, host Ricky Gervais gave a beyond scathing attack on celebrities, especially the big wig executives, YOU COULD FEEL THE RAGE AND TENSION FROM THE SCREEN! He said what most everyday people think! Tom Hanks facial expressions were very indicative of anger and disagreement with what was being said. Even Jeffrey Epstein was mentioned. Did any of you watch 60 Minutes last night? They interviewed Dr Michael Baden, the family hired expert pathologist. Graphic photos were shown. Too many coincidental errors, l definitely believe was NOT A SUICIDE!

Many celebrities, higher than thou attitude and their ‘woke’ platitudes, telling us how we should live, what we should believe, the worst offender imo is OW!

🎼a speech full of sugar helps the Meganson go down🎼

Song from a film l just watched with my sister for the first time last week, Mary Poppins! Such a shame the surgeon botched her surgery tendering the amazing Julie Andrews no longer to sing! But l digress, you know me, queen of digressions! The song spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down. Will the sugars do something to help madam once things go Lear-shaped? What can they do, most are young, have no wealth nor fame. Someone making a very sweet speech, saying very nice things about madam. Meganson, Meghan is not spelt Megan, is this Archie?? Revelation of the truth about Archie revealed and make us all finally happy for the real truth to come out! Who will deliver this speech? Harry? Bojo?

🎼Oh happy days 🎼………… “

Old Gospel song, oh happy day when Jesus washed my sins away, l sing this ALL THE TIME! We will sing these words, oh happy when day madam is summarily stripped of her title, and information of all her crimes and misdemeanours are made public!! I pray for this day!!

“SHE CAME, SHE SAW, SHE CONNED-CURD…… …”

Madam arrived, conned her way in, using blackmail and many other alleged things, she saw and tried to take secret photos, recordings etc at various places. Cameras, hidden, were allegedly found prompting the complete sweep, MM. ANON mentioned in a riddle few weeks back. Conquered is not the word, conned-curd. Curds and whey are a product of cheese-making. When rennet, an enzyme is added the milk curdles. These solid, curdled lumps are the curds. The whey is the liquid byproduct of the curdling process. Basically madam behaviour has resulted in lumps and clumps of lies, distortion and only a God knows it all, many many more alleged victims of being used for her own personal gain/needs/wishes!

“ this must end soon !! very soon”…… We have the technology ……… “Ahhh , The elusive tape”……… Timing is everything!!

THESE ARE THE WORDS WE HAVE ALL BEEN SCREAMING FOR MONTHS AND THE PUBLIC AS WELL!! LG is reassuring HMTQ they have the technology they need, perhaps facial recognition for all her fake photos, l mean a non-tech like me can see they are glaring photoshops or should l say photo-CHOPS!!

Talk of the elusive tape that has been leaked on line, l personality think there are numerous tapes!! They have the tape they need and HMTQ remains firm of releasing it at the right time!

DM loading it’s guns……… print and be dammed!!

The DM is tired of years of sitting on the dossier while madam, to quote the Bard, “struts and frets her hour on the stage, full of fury signifying nothing!” They are gonna roll it out , weapons loaded locked soon to be fired. Oh l can hardly wait!

1845 hrs CST. GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Thank you PG! This looks amazing. We appreciate this….tick tock!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

skippyv20

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG ADDS/CLARIFIES🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

TO CLARIFY MY POINT💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻

SHE CAME, SHE SAW, SHE CONNED-CURD

She came, saw conned used…..Vini Vidi Vici words by Julius Caesar, MM ANON altered for the purpose, unlike Caesar, she came, conned..BUT DID NOT CONQUER…..THE MON

—————-

164: Jan 7

MM ANON, ……… she’s the (arm) pits……… go home Yank…… he’s a stone lighter ……… get off my f#@£%land ……… “ come to my birthday, never!!” ……… A state of emergency …… who dares bins ………… 🎼return to lender🎼……… “ it’s a struggle old thing”……… “ stop swearing at the tourists”…………… “ bloody tourists” …… Sydney!!……… “ I’m looking forward to next series” ……… “new stamps??

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #162. January 7/2020

1245 hrs CST

she’s the (arm) pits……… go home Yank…… he’s a stone lighter ……… get off my f#@£%land ……… “

Well well well, something wicked this way came……return of evil and Harry tethered, somewhat temporarily to that evil. Her sweat was so excessive in her axillae, the shirt was soaked and very obvious in photos!! DM giving that photo front page coverage🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂. Yes go home Yank! Screams and silent roars for just that, be gone evil from whence ye came! Harry looks so thin, a stone in UK 6.35 kg, American is 14 pounds! He has been through the wars indeed!! I feel, as a Canadian, exactly that sentiment but l won’t edit the word and might add a few more🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬!!

come to my birthday, never!!”

Catherine’s birthday is January 9/2020. NO WAY NO HOW ON GOD’S GREENEST EARTH IS MADAM GOING TO BE PART OF ANYTHING FULL STOP!!!

A state of emergency …… who dares bins

Australia is on fire, state of emergency everywhere . He who dares wins but this is bins? There are so many brave firefighters from all over the world helping. Millions in donations and aid pouring in. Millions for helping the surviving animals. It’s so heartbreaking, the photos are horrific. Burned bandaged koalas 🐨, the kangaroo 🦘 hugging its rescuer….if you have not shed a tear, l don’t know what else would bring tears. 😢😢😢😭😭😭. The worst is that reports are coming out that many of the fires were started by people.

🎼return to lender🎼

Song by Elvis, Return to Sender….hmmmmmm madam owes lots of something to lots of dangerous people! No idea how she is going to do it, but she doesn’t care, she thinks on the fly, or rather doesn’t think, just lives life on the fly, lies upon lies upon lies! The story always convoluted, never making sense and adding to the disbelief by many here and other places.

I think the UK and the entire Commonwealth have had her on ‘loan’ for this whole farce and it’s time to return her to America!! They lent her!! RETURN POSTAGE DUE!!!

“ it’s a struggle old thing”……… “ stop swearing at the tourists”…………… “ bloody tourists” …… Sydney!!………

PP AND HMTQ DISCUSSING THIS SITUATION. HE IS STRUGGLING WITH PROLONGED ILLNESS AND HIS AGE. CALLING FOR HIS VALET, SYDNEY, NEEDING HELP WITH SOMETHING OR PERHAPS A BEVVIE/BODDINGTONS. YES IT SOUNDS LIKE MADAM IS STILL TREATING PEOPLE AS THEY ARE BENEATH HER , CONTEMPTIBLE AND WORTHLESS. OR IS PP FRUSTRATED WITH TOURISTS AROUND WINDSOR ETC.

“ I’m looking forward to next series” ……… “new stamps??

HMTQ AND PP HAVE BEEN WATCHING THE CROWN ON NETFLIX. IN PREVIOUS RIDDLE MM ANON ALLUDED THAT PERHAPS HMTQ HAD INOUT INTO THE NEW OR NEXT SEASON.

NEW POSTAGE STAMPS TO BE RELEASED? I KNOW WE HAVE GORGEOUS ONES NOW OF HMTQ IN LAVENDER, I HAVE A NICE SET OF THEM. PERHAPS THE ROYAL MAIL WILL BE ISSUING SOME, I CANNOT FIND ANY NEW ONES ON THEIR WEBSITE .

THERE IS STANLEY GIBBONS, A BOOK AVAILABLE THAT LISTS ALL THE NEW RELEASES FOR 2020 .

1310 hrs CST. GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Thank you PG…this looks great. Much appreciated 🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

——————

165: Jan 10

GOD BLESS YOU ALL I AM READJUSTING TO BEING ALONE AGAIN AFTER SUCH A BLESSED FEW WEEKS. THANK YOU ALL FOR SO SO MANY KIND WORDS, WISHES AND PRAYERS. IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME 💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

skippyv20

MM Anon

MM ANON. .…… GSTQAOBC …… don’t rock the bloat. …… pain-t stripper …… past, present and future ……… hide-a-Weymouth ……… W&K rule……… make a list ……… common- wealth……… nutmegs strange grandiosity ……… feed the handbitten …… king baby ………… love in a cold climate ……… NO MORE MONEY ……… a fall from race ……… Harry has left the building

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #163. January 10/2019

1400 hrs

GSTQAOBC

GSTQAOBC, I ALWAYS SIGN MY POSTS THUSLY WITH THE CANADIAN FLAG, RECENTLY ADDING BRITAIN, AUSTRALIA AND NEW ZEALAND IN A SHOW OF SOLIDARITY. THANK YOU MM ANON, I STARTED THIS ACRONYM MONTHS AND MONTHS AGO. IT MEANS, GOD SAVE THE QUEEN AND OUR BELOVED COMMONWEALTH. WE MOST SURELY HAD AND HAVE GOD ON OUR SIDE. EVIL, IN ALL OF ITS FORMS, SHALL BE DEFEATED AND THE CROWN REMAINS STRONG. TIS FOOLISH LIES OF THE MOST EVIL ONE, IN ALL ITS FORMS AND FASHIONS AND PRESENTATIONS, LEADING BACKERS AND MADAM INTO A FOOLS ERRAND. CONSEQUENCES WILL BE DIRE!

don’t rock the bloat

DONT ROCK THE BOAT IS THE USUAL SAYING, HERE MM ANON HAS GIVEN US BLOAT. BLOAT, SWELLING, FILLERS TO HER FACE, FAUX MEGNANCY, WEIGHT GAIN, ALL THINGS MADAM HAD PRESENTED US WITH. MOST RECENTLY BEING THE DRASTIC FILLER IN HER FACE AND UPPER LIP ESPECIALLY.

THE BALCONY APPEARANCES ARE GETTING LARGER AND LARGER, ONE MIGHT US THE TERM BLOAT. IT IS WELL KNOWN THAT PC WANTS TO DOWNSIZE THE MONARCHY AND HAVE A TEAM OF SENIOR ROYALS. WE CAN SAY FOR CERTAIN NOW, MADAM HAS NO CHANCE OF EVER BEEING ON OR NEAR THIS TEAM.

pain-t stripper

PAINT STRIPPER IS TURPENTINE OR SOME OTHER SIMILAR NOXIOUS ITEM. AND MADAM IS ABOUT AS TOXIC IF NOT MORE. SHE CERTAINLY HAS CAUSED A LOT OF PAIN. HER HISTORY INCLUDED ALL THINGS SORDID. Pain-t stripper PANTY STRIPPER, IS SELF EXPLANATORY. LIKELY SHE HAS BEEN A STRIPPER AT SOME POINT. I DO SO WISH ALL WAS MADE PUBLIC BUT IT SHALL BE PUBLIC IN DUE TIME.

I THINK JUST LIKE IN SPRING THE OLD AIR GOES OUT, BRING IN THE NEW, MADAM WILL BE STRIPPED OF HER TITLE, HER EXISTENCE WILL BE STRIPPED FROM THE ROYAL RECORD IN TERMS OF PHOTOS ETC ETC . LOOK HOW EASY SHE WAS TO PHOTOSHOP OUT OF BABY PRINCE LOUIS CHRISTENING PHOTOS!!

past, present and future

HER FAKE ENGAGEMENT RING WAS THE CLASSIC TRIO, HER PAST, WHAT WE KNOW OF IT IS VERY SORDID, HER PRESENT IS CAUSING HORRIFIC HAVOC AND I AM CERTAIN HER FUTURE INVOLVES ARREST FOR TREASON AT THE LEAST AND FINANCIAL CRIMES, FITURE IS LONG TERM INCARCERATION.

hide-a-Weymouth

IS THIS WHERE SHE IS BEING KEPT IN CUSTODY? I AM CERTAIN SHE IS IN CUSTODY OF ONE SORT OR ANOTHER.

W&K rule

WILLIAM AND CATHERINE HAVE MORE THAN PROVED THEMSELVES DURING THESE DIFFICULT DAYS. THEY ARE TRULY WORTHY OF THE TITLES THEY SHALL EVENTUALLY RECEIVE. I AM CERTAIN THEY HAVE BEEN OF IMMENSE SUPPORT TO HARRY THROUGH ALL IF THIS AS WELL AS TO HMTQ AND PC! THEY ARE TRULY DIVINELY GIVEN, A PERFECT MATCH IF THERE EVER WERE ONE.

make a list

NO CHRISTMAS IS OVER, WE ARE NOT TALKING SANTA CLAUS HERE. A LIST IS BEING MADE Of ALL THE THINGS HARRY CAN DO, ONCE HE IS FREE OF HER. ALL THE THINGS HE CAN DO TO HELP HIS GRANDMOTHER, HIS FATHER, AND THE FAMILY IN GENERAL.

common- wealth

IN ANY DIVORCE ASSETS AND CUSTODY ARE ISSUES, HENCE THE COMMON-WEALTH. THERE WILL BE NOTHING LEFT FOR HER, BY THE TIME DIVORCE COMES HARRY WILL BE PENNILESS THANKS TO THE BRILLIANCE OF THE ROYAL TEAM. AS FAR AS HER MOVING TO CANADA, SHE CAN SCRAP THAT OR ANY OTHER COMMONWEALTH COUNTRY, WILL NOT BE PERMITTED NOR WELCOMED.

nutmegs strange grandiosity

SHE IS TOTALLY NARCISSISTIC, I TRULY DO NOT THINK IT WILL HIT HER UNTIL HER CELL DOOR SLAMS SHUT. EVEN THEN SHE THINKS HERSELF SO IMPORTANT THAT SOMEONE WILL SWOOP IN AND SAVE HER!

feed the handbitten

THE PHRASE IS NEVER BITE THE HANDS THAT FEEDS YOU. SHE HAS GNAWED BEYOND THE SHOULDER. WHO IS FEEDING THE HANDBITTEN? HARRY IS BEING LOVED AND SUPPORTED BY FAMILY, FRIENDS AND US. SHE HAS NO ONE. FUNNY HOW PHOTOS IF TM AND DR HAVE NOW STARTED TO REAPPEAR.

king baby

KING BABY IS A NEW ORLEANS TERM FOR THE MARDI GRAS KING CAKE, THEY PUT A SMALL TOY BABY IN EACH CAKE AND WHOEVER GETS THE SLICE HAS GOOD LUCK. WELL THIS OBVIOUSLY REFERRING NOT TO BOSS BABY BUT HE WILL NOT BE KING, NOR TO GEORGE WHO WILL BE KING.

MADAM IN HER MIND FANCIED HERSELF QUEEN, HER ‘CHILD WOULD BE KING, KING ARCHIFICIAL .😂😂😂🤣🤣 HOW SAD. AM I CORRECT THAT THE SURROGATE BIRTHED TWINS A BOY AND A GIRL??

love in a cold climate

THE ALLEGED OWNER OF THE MANSION ON V.I. WHERE THEY ALLEGEDLY SPENT THEIR TIME IN CANADA, IS SAID TO BE A RUSSIAN BILLIONAIRE, WORKING HARD TO CONCEAL HIS IDENTITY. IS MADAM GOING TO TRY AND DO A RUNNER AND BECOME A CONCUBINE TO THIS OLIGARCH?? LOVE CERTAINLY WOULD HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!

NO MORE MONEY

HAS PRINCE CHARLES CUT THE ORIVY PURSE FINALLY, HOW I HOPE SO. THE STEP TOWARDS BANKRUPTING HARRY AND LEAVING NO FUNDS THAT MADAM CAN GRAB!

a fall from race

A FALL FROM GRACE IS THE USUAL STATEMENT, HERE ITS RACE. MADAMS USE OF BEING A WOC GOT HER NOWHERE US SOUTH AFRICA, IN FACT MANY WERE EXTREMELY UPSET. SHE HAS ALWAYS IDENTIFIED AS CAUCASIAN AND SHE HAS RETURNED TO IT.

Harry has left the building

THE SAYING IS ELVIS HAS KEFT THE BUILDING, MEANING THE CONCERT IS OVER, AS WOMEN KEPT SCREAMING FOR ELVIS. WELL WE CAN OFFICIALLY, WITH THAT THUMBS UP PHOTO OUTSIDE CANADA HOUSE, SAY HARRY IS DONE WITH HER, MARRIAGE OVER, THANK GOD!! THERE ARE DIARY ENGAGEMENTS FOR HIM AND HIS FUTURE WILL BE GRAND!!

1450 hrs CST. GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Thank you dear PG…looks wonderful….let the fun begin…😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

——————

166: Jan 11

MM ANON ……… blowing up a GAIL……… “ it’s like de-programming sir” ……” better have them inside the tent pissing out……… “it’s her pattern of behaviour” ………… back in the day ……… W&K step up……… William refuses to play ball……… that’s weak Charles …………” it’s all about money with her”……… “ all I’m saying is,you’re powerful family “ ………” another snifter LG”……… “ hold the calls Sydney”.

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

January 11/2020

RIDDLE #164. 1345 hrs CST

blowing up a GAIL

A gail/Gayle, can be a strong destructive storm wind or it can be a person’s name. Gayle King, OW bestie has been on madam ‘friend’ list for quite sometime since the day of the gathering of unhappy people which OW attended. Her friends, l use that term in its loosest sense, people she has kept around her socially seem to have popped up out of nowhere. .backers?? When they did the first show of archificial madam insisted a CBS/AMERICAN network be there and at the time of its morning showing. Not surprisingly Gayle King is a host of that very show. Harry and OW are allegedly working on something for Apple TV on mental health l am not sure where things are at with that. News today clearly stating that Madam and Harry are going to do a tell all interview with GK. Things are blowing harder and stormier kids, batten down the hatches!! I do not believe Harry will take part!

“ it’s like de-programming sir” ……” better have them inside the tent pissing out……… “it’s her pattern of behaviour”

As l said yesterday in my riddle interpretation, it’s like Harry has been in a cult and needs de programming. A slow process, surrounded by loved ones and expert professionals, to heal mentally and physically. As l have said many times Harry will be forever changed by this entire trauma.

It’s probably better to have him inside the tent pissing out, than outside the tent pissing out. Quoted by President Lyndon , referring to the then F.B.I. Director J.Edgar Hoover, in the New York Times, October 31/1971. It was a dark time in America with the house on Unamerican Activities Trials, many blacklisted as communists, and oh the scandalous details have come out about Hoover and his proclivities. This is basically saying and meaning, keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. I think it might also be a strong hint regarding JE black book, and given Hoover was high power and perverted information came out about him, is this a reference to other powerful people hiding skeletons of filth also? Some of those very individuals are backers!!! ALL ALLEGEDLY OF COURSE!KEEP MADAM UNDER 24/7/366 , AS THIS IS LEAP YEAR SURVEILLANCE OR CUSTODY. DEBATE THAT AMONGST YOURSELVES WHICH IT IS😁.

REGARDING MADAMS PATTERNS OF BEHAVIOUR, OF USING PEOPLE AND DISCARDING THEM, WASNT IT AWESOME TO FINALLY READ AND SEE THAT IN HUGE LETTERS AS THE HEADLINE OF THE DAILY MAIL YESTERDAY? FINALLLY FINALLY SOMETHING WE HAVE ALL BEEN PRAYING FOR THE TIDE IS DRASTICALLY TURNING. SEEING THAT HEADLINE WAS AWESOME!!

back in the day

MAKES ME FEEL OLD, THIS SAYING DOES, BECAUSE I REMEMBER BACK IN THE DAY🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. MADAM HAS AN ALLEGEDLY SORDID, VILE LIST OF ACTIVITIES DURING HER “BACK IN THE DAY TIMES”. I HAVE SAID THIS PROBABLY IN EACH RIDDLE INTERPRETATION AND IN MANY COMMENTS/POSTS. THE DM HAS A MILLION DOLLAR DOSSIER THAT THEY HAVE BEEN SITTING ON SINCE BEFORE THE DAY OF THE GATHERING OF UNHAPPY PEOPLE. LET IT BLOW DM, OPEN THE WINDOWS LET IT ALL OUT!!!

W&K step up……

WILLIAM AND CATHERINE HAVE STEPPED UP AND SHOWN EVERYONE THE FUTURE OF THE MODERN MONARCHY IS WELL SECURED. ARE THEY BEING NOW ASKED TO STEP UP FURTHER? IN WHAT WAY? THIS IS VERY INTERESTING IN LIGHT OF THEIR SEVERAL TOURS THAT ARE ALLEGEDLY PLANNED FOR 2020!

William refuses to play ball ….that’s weak Charles …………”

it’s all about money with her”……… “ all I’m saying is,you’re powerful family “ ………” another snifter LG”……… “ hold the calls Sydney”

HMTQ, LG AND PP ARE AT SANDRINGHAM, PRINCE CHARLES I BELIEVE IS IN SCOTLAND OR WAS YESTERRDAY, ARE DISCUSSING THIS. AGAIN FIRE CRACKLING ROARING AND SNAPPING JUST LIKE THE EMOTIONS IN THE ROOM, UNDERCOVER BUT VERY MUCH PRESENT! THE FLAMES DANCE ALMOST AS IF HER EVIL PRESENCE WAS THE FIRE ITSELF. THEY ARE DISCUSSING A PLAN OF ACTION , HOWEVER WILLIAM IS NOT WILLING TO COMPLY OR GO ALONG WITH IT! PRINCE CHARLES SUGGESTION MAKES HIM WEAK BY THE COMMENTERS OPINION. LG TRYING TO CONVEY THE EXTREME POWER THE ROYAL FAMILY HOLDS NOT JUST IN THE UK AND COMMONWEALTH BUT IN THE WORLD. HMTQ MOST CERTAINLY HAS THE SUPPORT AND RESPECT OF THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT TRUMP!

EVERYTHING WITH MADAM IS $$$$$£££££££€€€€ NOTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD MATTERS, NOT HER SOUL, NOT HER ALLEGED CHILDREN, NOT HER FAMILY, CERTAINLY NOT HARRY, HMTQ NOR THE ROYAL FAMILY AND CERTAINLY NOT HER PERSONAL REPUTATION!

SO MONEY WAS OFFERED, FOR MADAM TO LEAVE, AS A ONE TIME DEAL AFTER THEIR ENGAGEMENT, MADAM INITIALLY ACCEPTED IT THEN RENEGED. IS LG SUGGESTING HMTQ OUT CASH OFFER BACK ON THE TABLE, BEARING IN MIND HER POWERS? I CANNOT SEE HMTQ DOING THIS, SHE IS AND HAS BEEN A WOMAN OF HER WORD, IF SHE SAID IT WAS A ONE TIME OFFER ON,Y I AM INCLINED TO THINK THAT SHE MEANT IT. HOWEVER SHE MAY OFFER SOMETHING ELSE, PROPERTY? OR SOMETHING ELSE THAT LG IS REMINDING HER OF WHILST MENTIONING HER VAST POWERS, A PARDON PERHAPS??

ANOTHER BRANDY ORDERED GOR LG, HMTQ USUALLY HAS HER GIN AND DUBONNET BUT APPARENTLY NOT TODAY. TODAY IS NOT THE DAY FOR A LEISURELY COCKTAIL, THIS IS SERIOUS WORK. AS SYDNEY BRINGS THE SNIFTERS HMTQ REQUESTS HE HOLD ALL TELEPHONE CALLS AS THEY NEED UNINTERRUPTED TIME TO THINK AND PLAN!!

1500 hrs CST. GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Thank you dear PG…looks great, and is appreciated…💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

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167: Jan 12

MM ANON ……… 🎼I don’t like Mondays🎼………” turn her bloody ugly face orf”. …… “ your call William!!” ……… bad advice ……… A military absence ……… “ yes,Pontcius Pilate” ……… Charles, The weakest link ……… “ your over generous ma’am”. ……… “ let them go, f**** em” ……… The taxpayers won’t like it ……… Canada caves……… RCMP……… BO offers a net- flick……… 🎼money,money,money 🎼…………… royal dis-appointments. ………… a tabloid tornado looms.

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

January 12/2020

RIDDLE#165. 1610 hrs CST

🎼I don’t like Mondays🎼………”

This song, by the Boomtown Rats, was sooo popular when l was young, it was if l recall the first song about depression and school shootings. A very dire song indeed. If this is in comparison to tomorrow’s meeting, extreme dire warning!

turn her bloody ugly face orf”.

PP HAS THE TELEVISION ON, SICK AND TIRED OF SEEING PRIVATE FAMIKY INFORMATION ON NEWS BUT EVEN MORE TIRED OF SEEING MADAMS FACE AND WANTS IT OFF!! Or orf!

“ your call William!!” bad advice ……… A military absence ……… “ yes,Pontcius Pilate” ……… Charles, The weakest link ……… “ your over generous ma’am”. ……… “ let them go, f**** em” ……… The taxpayers won’t like it ……… Canada caves……… RCMP……… BO offers a net- flick

THESE DISCUSSIONS HAVE OCCURRED AND WILL CONTINUE BETWEEN HMTQ, PP, PC, PW ANDLG . I DOUBT MADAM BE DIALING IN FROM WHATEVER CELL OR CUSTODIAL PLACE SHE IS CURRENTLY. WILL WILLIAM IS BEING GIVEN A CALL, HIS CHOICE OR OPINION TO ACT IR NOT ACT IN A CERTAIN DECISION, OR A FINAL SAY IN A DECISION, MIGHT THAT INVOLVE WILLIAM SPEAKING PUBLICLY?? THE WORDS IN THE RIDDLE, BAD ADVICE, FOLLOWS THAT. MIGHT THAT BE THE DECISION WAS BAD ADVICE? OR TO NOT DO IT WAS BAD..,SO COMPLEX. THEY ARE PLAYING OUT EVERY SINGLE OPTION, SCENARIO OF DEALING WITH MADAM AND THE POSSIBLE REPERCUSSIONS.

SINCE HARRY HAS CERTAIN MILITARY OBLIGATIONS, HE CANNOT JUST UP AND LEAVE. ARE THEY DISCUSSING A FORMAL MILITARY LEAVE FOR HIM? HE IS NOT LEAVING WITH MADAM, BUT THIS IS FOR HIM TO HAVE TIME TO HEAL AND RECOVER EMOTIONALLY.

AS WE KNOW ALL ORDERS COME FROM AND WILL COME FROM HMTQ. IN SCRIPTURE , PONTIUS PlLATE ORDERED CHRISTS CRUCIFIXION. THERE WAS ALMOST REGRET BY PONTIUS PILATE BECAUSE HE BELIEVED CHRIST TO BE A GOOD MAN WHO WAS TURNED IN BY ONE OF HIS OWN, JUDAS . WHO IS JUDAS HERE?? MADAM IS JUDAS AND SATAN SIMULTANEOUSLY WISHING TO DESTROY ALL THAT IS GOOD, DESTROY HARRY, DESTROY THE MONARCHY, HATRED OF CATHERINE IS PATHOLOGICAL AND HER UTTER GALL AND DISRESPECT FOR HMTQ IS UNCONSCIONABLE , WITH NO OBVIOUS RATIONALE OTHER THAN THAN PURE JEALOUSY! AND PURE EVIL, POSSESSED BY THE NATURE OF PURE EVIL MOST FOUL.AGAIN THE BARD, HAMLET….”Hamlet:

O most pernicious woman!

O villain, villain, smiling, damnèd villain!

My tables—meet it is I set it down

That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain—

At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.

Hamlet Act 1, scene 5, 105–109”

CHARLES, THE WEAKEST LINK OR CHARLES IS THE WEAKEST LINK, THIS CAN BE TAKEN TWO WAYS, BUT THE PUBLIC HAS THOUGHT HIM WEAK. CHARLES CERTAINLY TAKEN HIS SHARE OF CRITICISM IN HIS LIFE REGARDING HIS CHOICES AND SOMETIMES LACK THEREOF. HE ACTED QUICKLY REGARDING PA BUT HIS OWN SON WILL BE A DIFFERENT BALLGAME.

HMTQ HAS SUGGESTED THE FINAL OFFER. LG IS TELLING HER SHE IS OVER-GENEROUS. PP SAYING LET THEM, THEM PLURAL, THE BOTH OF THEM GO, F***THEM, FORGET ABOUT THEM, DO WHAT YOU NEED TO DO TO GET RID OF “THEM”. NOW HEAR ME OUT! THEM IS PLURAL, DO I THINK THIS IS MADAM AND HARRY, NO I DO NOT. I THINK IT MIGHT BE MADAM AND ARCHFICIAL OR MA.

HERE IS THE PART ABOUT CANADA , CANADA CAVES, MORE OF HER LIES AND PR. YOU SAW HER AT CANADA HOUSE, SWEATING PROFUSELY, LITERALLY SOAKING WET!! . SHE HAS LIED, CHEATED, OBFUSCATED, TREATED OUR QUEEN AND ROYAL FAMILY AND EVERYONE HORRENDOUSLY. THERE IS NO WAY ON GODS GREEN EARTH THAT HMTQ WILL ALLOW THIS. CANADA IS A PRECIOUS COMMONWEALTH COUNTRY. MADAM HAS COMMITTED TREASON AGAINST THE CROWN AND A WHOLE HOST OF OTHER ALLEGED CRIMES, FINANCIAL ETC. SHE MUST PAY FOR THESE CRIMES. THERE IS NO FREE RIDE OR WALKING AWAY LA DE DA ANYWHERE. NOT ON HMTQ WATCH, ⚖️ WILL BE SERVED.

BO, OBAMA HAS HE OFFERED MADAM SOMETHING , A FILM ON THE INTERNET BUT NOT NETFLIX BUT NET-FLICK. HE IS A YANK, SHE IS WHY DOESNT HE TAKE HER IN, OR OW. OR GK. OR ANYBODY. LET HER FEND FOR HERSELF, SHES PROVEN HERSELF QUITE CAPABLE OF THAT.

🎼money,money,money 🎼…………… royal dis-appointments. ………… a tabloid tornado looms.

ABBA SONG, MONEY, LIVING IN A RICH MANS WORLD WITH NO MONEY OF YOUR OWN. MADAM IS OBSESSED WITH IT! NO AMOUNT IS EVER ENOUGH! HER ROYAL APPOINTMENTS MAY BE DISAPPOINTMENTS AS IN REMOVAL OF ANY AND ALL PATRONAGES, TITLES, ETC ETC.

🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻.

THE TABLOIDS WILL CONTINUE TO BE FILLED WITH THIS AND IF EVERYTHING COMES OUT, HOW SHE CONNED HER WAY IN,PR, ROYAL REPORTERS. ON AND ON, WE MUST CAREFULLY READ AND DISCERN. PERHAPS WILLIAM MAY MAKE A SPEECH AS REFERRED IN THE EARLY PART OF THIS RIDDLE. THE PR WAR CONTINUES, HARRY IS OFF THE BATTLEFIELD, THANK GOD.

1650 hrs CST

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Fascinating! Thank you Dear PG! Yes, all the PR trickery and lies is the work of Satan! HM will make sure Canada is protected! This has to play out in order to free Harry, with minimal damage to the crown! Everything has been executed brilliantly! God Save The Queen! 🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

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168: Jan 13

MM ANON …………… take it or , take it!!……… no negotiation ………… Harry walks out ……… threats and lies ……… no comment…… tabloid carnage ……… more talk,talk. ……… commonwealth ambassador??? ……… no loss of financial support ……… MM gives up title ……… Harry keeps HRH. ……… archificial tells all……… W&K hold a huge party 🥳 🧣🤣🥳🥳🥳👀……… PP gives Sydney a knighthood ……… PP& Sydney get drunk. …………George bakes a cake. ……… Lottie has another sleepover. ……… Nanny gets a surprise

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #166. January 13/2020

1545 hrs CST

take it or , take it!!……… no negotiation ………… Harry walks out

WHAT AN OH HAPPY DAY THIS IS! OFFER OF EVERYTHING MADAM WANTED AND SHE STILL IS NOT HAPPY. HOW SHOCKINGLY PREDICTABLE IS SHE😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣 STOMPING IN HER WELLIES, ARMS CROSSED, NEVER GOING BACK TO THAT BIG BAD U.K. EVER AGAIN…HMMMM DIDN’T SHE SPEND YEARS WANTING A BRITISH MAN?? I BELIEVE MALE, PALE AND STALE WERE HER CRITERIA🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂

THERE WAS NO NEGOTIATION TODAY, EVERYTHING HAD BEEN DONE AND DUSTED BEFOREHAND. HARRY WALKED OUT, HEAD HELD HIGH, GLEEFULLY HOPING MADAM KEEPS HER PROMISE OF NEVER COMING BACK TO THE U.K. AGAIN!!!

threats and lies ……… no comment…… tabloid carnage ……… more talk,talk. ………

TYPICAL MADAM SHE WILL USE THREATS, LIES ANYTHING EVEN WHEN SHE HAS BEEN GIVEN EVERY SINGLE THING THAT SHE ASKED FOR! THE TABLOID CARNAGE HAS BARELY BEGUN. JUST WAIT UNTIL THE REAL FILTH OOZES UP FROM THE MUCK AND MIRE. ALLEGED MISDEEDS, POSSIBLE CRIMES OF SUCH VILE NATIRE WILL NOT DISCUSS! FINANCIAL MERCHING , TAXES ETC ETC. I AM CERTAIN THERE ARE MANY MANY OTHER THINGS THAT WE DO NOT EVEN KNOW OF.

commonwealth ambassador???

no loss of financial support ……… MM gives up title ……… Harry keeps HRH. ………

THERE WAS TALK OF HARRY BEING THE GOVERNOR GENERAL TO CANADA BUT JULIE PAYETTE, OUR ASTRONAUT OCCUPIES THAT PART OF SPACE😁. WILL THERE BE RUMOURS OF AMBASSADORSHIP?? FINANCIAL SUPPORT TO CONTINUE? ODD BECAUSE MADAM WAS VERY CLEAR THAT IT ONLY COVERED 5% OF THEIR EXPENSES AND “THEY”WANT TO BE SELF SUFFICIENT FINANCIALLY 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂. THE WORDING OF HMTQ LETTER TODAY LEFT OUT ANY TITLES. DOES MADAM HAVE TO VOLUNTARILY AGREE TO GIVE UP HER HRH OR DofS? IN RETURN FOR WHAT, SOMETHING BEING KEPT SILENT? THERE WOULD BE SO MANY OPTIONS! HARRY WILL ALWAYS BE HRH BECAUSE HE IS THE GRANDSON OF THE QUEEN AND SON OF THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. EVEN IF THE DofS TITLE REMOVED. PERSONALLY I HOPE HMTQ RETIRES THOSE TITLES PERMANENTLY!!!

archificial tells all………

HE MUST HAVE BEEN A BEAUTIFUL BABY , HE MUST HAVE BEEN A BEAUTIFUL CHILD, ONLY THOSE OF A CERTAIN AGE WILL RECOGNIZE THOSE SONG LYRICS! ARCHIFICIAL IS AMAZING, HE CHANGES SIZES, FACE SHAPE, EYE SHAPE AND COLOUR, HAIR COLOUR AND AMOUNT. AT THE AGE OF SEVEN MONTHS.HE OOHS AND AAHS AT THE SCENERY IN A COUNTRY HE WAS NOT IN, NOW THAT IS A TALENTED CHILD! SO IS HE WRITING A TELL ALL BOOK TOO? A TELL ALL INTERVIEW, PERHAPS INTERVIEWED BY PEPPA PIG? OR DORA THE EXPLORER MAYBE??

SERIOUSLY EVERYTHING REGARDING THE DNA IS COMING OUT PUBLICLY AND COMING VERY VERY SOON. GET THE POPCORN 🍿 READY!!

W&K hold a huge party 🥳 🧣🤣🥳🥳🥳👀………

A HUGE BANNER CELEBRATION, MADAM IS DONE!! LOTS OF SCARFING JOKES, DRINKS, SIDEEYE JOKES AND JUST DECOMPRESSING.

I WOULD LOVE AN INVITE, NOT THAT I COULD GO BUT WOW THIS IS GOING TO BE A MASSIVE KNEES UP!!!

PP gives Sydney a knighthood ……… PP& Sydney get drunk. …………

DEAR SYDNEY, BLESS HIM, HE HAS BEEN STALWART, ALWAYS QUIETLY THERE IN EACH AND EVERY RIDDLE, READY TO TEND TO ANY AND ALL NEEDS AND REQUESTS. PP IS SO APPRECIATIVE OF HIS DEDICATION AND LOYALTY HE GRANTS HIM A KNIGHTHOOD, WELL DESERVED I SHOULD SAY! THEN THE PROCEED TO IMBIBE AND GET GOOD AND SNOCKERED! FORGET THE BODDINGTONS, GO FOR THE GOOD STUFF TONIGHT, ITS A CELEBRATION!!CHEERS 🥂🍻

George bakes a cake. ……… Lottie has another sleepover. ……… Nanny gets a surprise

MEANWHILE WITH THE CAMBRIDGE CHILDREN, GEORGE HAS BEEN TURNED ON TO BAKING EVER SINCE MAKING THE CHRISTMAS PUDDING AT THE VIDEO FOR CHRISTMAS. HE IS WORKING ON A NICE CAKE TO 🎉 CELEBRATE. THE CHILDREN ARE NOT EXACTLY CERTAIN WHAT THE CELEBRATION IS BUT UNCLE HARRY IS OVER AND HE IS VERY VERY HAPPY!!

OVER IN LOTTIE LAND ANOTHER SLEEPOVER IS HAPPENING, MY WHAT A BUSY HOUSEHOLD, I LOVE IT!!

WHAT HAS LOUIS GOTTEN UP TO, TO SURPRISE , NOTHING HE IS ASLEEP!! AGAIN I WILL SAY IT, NANNY’S SURPRISE IS PREPARING FOR CAMBRIDGE BABY 🍼 NUMBER FOUR. 💜💜💜💜

1620 hrs CST

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Thank you PG…this is wonderful…playing out and requires patience! Much appreciated 😊💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

—————-

169: jan 14

MM ANON ……… para-sight……… “ O ma’am, cunning very cunning”………… “ William is made of sterner metal”……… ( behind every great man) ……… spring offensive, the children!! …………” Lotties the key”……… the holy trinity ……… “freeze them out”………… “it’s all a smokescreen sir”…… “ yes, full steam ahead, ask Camilla “ ………… “ circle the wagons LG” …………” Burn that f**** olive branch, once bitten”………” a Canadian tour , with the children, OMG! Touché!!……… inde redire eruditionis Habes

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #169 @fortheheavenssake is keeping me on track of the riddles l have interpreted!

January 14/2020 1310 hrs CST

para-sight……… “ O ma’am, cunning very cunning”………… “

Parasites are things that live on a host taking its nutrition , from the host, most often resulting in great harm coming to the host. For example, someone eats undercooked meat, gets a tapeworm, the worms take all the nutrients and the human becomes very ill. It can also, in humans, be emotional parasite, sexual parasites, financial parasites. Madam just happens to be a narcissistic parasite that takes and uses everything possible in her chosen human AND HIS FAMILY/FRIENDS!! SHE LIES IN EVERY POSSIBLE. CONNIVES, PLANS, TALKS TO HERSELF ON TWITTER UNDER DIFFERENT NAMES. ITS ACTUALLY FREAKY TO WATCH HER DOING IT IN REAL TIME🤪🤪.

HERE, OUR DEAR MM ANON, HAS GIVEN PARA-SIGHT. PARA THE PREFIX MEANS

💜💜💜💜💜“ alongside of, beside, near, resembling, beyond, apart from, and abnormal.” 💜💜💜💜AND SIGHT. SO I READ SHE HAD BEEN SEEN DRIVING A CAR IN AMERICA OR CANADA. WHO KNOWS WHAT IA TRUE. ABNORMAL DEFINITELY, SHE HAS USED BODY DOUBLES BEFORE IN FAKE PHOTOS, THE VISIT TO THE BAR WITH FAKE HARRY. EVERY ARCHFICIAL PHOTO HAS BEEN PHOTOSHOPPED AND THE SIGHT IS ABNORMAL, ONE CAN TELL IMMEDIATELY THAT SOMETHING IS OFF. I WONDER HOW SHE WILL TRY AND ‘PROVE’ SHE AND ARCHFICIAL ARE STILL IN SAANICH😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣. LOCALS KNOW EVERYTHING, BE IT THE SEA, THE PRAIRIES, WHEREVER HERE. WE ARE NOT NOSY BUT WE ARE NOT EASILY FOOLED, WE CAN SMELL BS BEFORE ITS DROPPED!! BUT WE ARE EVER SO POLITE AND NICE THANK YOU VERY MUCH. I CAN HARDLY WAIT FOR HER NEXT MOVE. WE HAVE WON THE LOTTERY KIDS!! I BET SHE IS STILL SCREECH TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT HAPPENED😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🥂🥂🍻🍻🍻🥂

SHE IS CUNNING, SLY, MANIPULATIVE IN SO MANY WAYS, BUT SIMULTANEOUSLY EXTREMELY STUPID😂😂😂🤣🤣IT TRULY IS HARD TO FATHOM. HER TOXICITY IS ALMOST LETHAL. THE DAMAGE, HAS AFFECTED THE U.K., THE COMMONWEALTH AND THE WORLD. THE BIBLE SPEAKS OF SATAN BEING THE GREAT LIAR, THE FATHER OF LIES. THIS IS HER MASTER.

William is made of sterner metal”……… ( behind every great man) ……… spring offensive, the children!! …………” Lotties the key”……… the holy trinity

TUNGSTEN WAS ALLEGEDLY HER NICKNAME GIVEN TO HER BY PC WHEN MADAM FIRST CAME ON THE SCENE. PUBLIC EXPLANATION WAS HE ADMIRED HER STRENGTH, WELL NOW WE KNOW IT WAS FOR HER UNBENDING STUBBORN VERY DIFFICULT TO ACCOMMODATE AND DEMANDING NARCISSISTIC PERSONALITY!!!

WILLIAM HAS STEPPED UP, SHE HAD AND STILL HAS NO IDEA WHOSE SHE WAS MESSING WITH!!! WILLIAM SINGLE HANDEDLY TOOK ON HRC!!! ITS LIKE LITTLE tootie IN MY FAVOURITE FILM,MEET ME IN ST LOUIS ,TAKING ON THE BROKOFFS ON HALLOWEEN NIGHT😂😂😂🤣🤣. IF YOU HAVE SEEN THE FILM YOU WILL COMPLETELY GET WHAT I MEAN. SUFFICE IT TO SAY, WILLIAMS BACKBONE AND STRENGTH HAS BEEN INHERITED FROM HMTQ!! I AM SO PLEASED TO SEE OUR BELOVED MONARCHY IS SUCH SECURE HANDS!!!

THE OLD SAYING, BEHIND EVERY SUCCESSFUL MAN IS A GREAT STRONG SUPPORTIVE WOMAN! WE CAN ALL AGREE THAT WILLIAM HIT THE MOTHERLODE IN THE LIFE OF MINING TERMS WHEN HE FELL IN LOVE WITH AND MARRIED CATHERINE. HE WAS LUCKY THAT SHE LOVED HIM ENOUGH TO WAIT. THE TEAM OF THE TWO OF THEM, ALONG WITH THE FAMILY THEY ARE BUILDING IS FORMIDABLE. THEY TRULY ARE A POWER COUPLE. I KNOW THAT PHRASE IS BANDIED ABOUT, BUT THEY ARE THE REAL DEAL. HOW LUCKY ARE WE? LUCK HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT, AS WITH HMTQ, GOD ORDAINS WHO THE MONARCH IS. HMTQ BELIEVES THAT AS DO I AND MILLION S OF OTHERS.

TIME TO GET EVERYONES MIND OFF OF THE HELLISH TIME OF MADAM, THE CAMBRIDGE CHILDREN ARE THE KEY. OPERATION SPRING OFFENSIVE IS BEING PLANNED. BRING ON THE WEE CHARMERS! LOTTIE, OUR DEAR CHARLOTTE MOST DEFINITELY IS KEY AS SHE HAS AN EXTREMELY STRONG PERSONALITY, LIKE HMTQ AND RESEMBLES HER VERY MUCH AS WELL, ALTHOUGH SHE DOES HAS THE CHARMING RIGHT CHEEK THING THAT CATHERINE DOES. ITS HARD TO EXPLAIN ITS SORT OF A HALF SQUINT…ITS CHARMING AND COMPLETELY NATURAL!! THE HOLY TRINITY, DEFINITELY CHILDREN ARE GIFTS FROM GOD. THEY HAVE THREE, BUT I STILL STAND FIRM THAT NUMBER FOUR IS ON THE WAY. THE HOLY TRINITY IS PROTECTING THEM FROM EVIL MADAM HAS BROUGHT.

“freeze them out”………… “it’s all a smokescreen sir”…… “ yes, full steam ahead, ask Camilla “

FREEZING SOMEONE OUT MEANS PRETENDING THEY NO LONGER EXIST, IGNORE THEM, NOT PUBLICLY SEEN TOGETHER ETC ETC. THIS WILL BE HOW THEY WILL MOVE FORWARD UNTIL MADAM IS COMPLETELY DEALT WITH. GIVEN THAT SHE WANTED TO LEAVE THE U.K., THE FAMILY SHE GOT, FOR THE FAMILY SHE NEVER HAD, WANTING TO DO HER OWN THING OR ‘THEIR’OWN THING WITHOUT ANY FINANCIAL HELP OR GOING TO THE U.K., THE FREEZING “THEM” OUT WOULD PUBLICLY BE SEEN AS RESPECTFUL BECAUSE THEY ARE RESPECTING HER WISHES🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. THE GAME IS AFOOT, ALL A SMOKESCREEN, ANOTHER WORD NEEDING EXPLAINING BUT PLEASE LOOK IT UP, MY HANDS ARE NEARING THE END, SORRY. MADAM IS SO STUPID🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂, BEING THE NARCISSIST THAT SHE IS THE LAST THING SHE WANTS IS TO BE FINANCIALLY INDEPENDENT, LIVING ON VI. NO PUBLICITY, IN THE WOODS😂😂😂😂😂. THERE IS A GREAT SAYING, I DO NOT KNOW THE ORIGIN BUT WILL LOOK IT UP AT SOME POINT, BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR BECAUSE YOU MIGHT JUAT GET IT!! WELL SHE HAS GOTTEN IT ALLRIGHT AND THERE IS PLENTY MORE TO COME😂😂😂😂😂.

CAMILLA CANNOT STAND MADAM, THE GARDEN PARTY VIDEO ASKING FOR HELP🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂, REFUSING TO ATTEND THE GATHERING OF UNHAPPY PEOPLE TO DO A S HOOL OUTING, THE CATHEDRAL VIDEO WHERE SHE IGNORES MADAM AND RUBS HER OWN TUMMY WHILST SMILING AT CATHERINE ETC ETC. CAMILLA IS 110% APPROVAL OF THIS!!

“ circle the wagons LG” …………” Burn that f**** olive branch, once bitten”………” a Canadian tour , with the children, OMG! Touché!!……… inde redire eruditionis Habes

HMTQ, PP TALKING WITH LG, THE FAMILY NEEDS BROUGHT TOGETHER, PHYSICALLY TO PROTECT HARRY AND THE MONARCHY! THE TERM, MM ANON HAS USED BEFORE. CIRCLE THE WAGONS, IS QUITE LITERAL, OR WAS. WHEN THE PIONEERS MOVED WEST IN NORTH AMERICA, OVERTAKING NATIVE LAND NATURALLY THE INDIGENOUS POPULATION WAS NOT HAPPY. THERE WAS A LOT OF VIOLENCE AND BLOODSHED. THEY LITERALLY CIRCLED THE WAGONS AND HID INSIDE THE CIRCLE SHOOTING THEIR GUNS OUT AT THE INDIANS.

MADAM GOT EVERYTHING SHE WANTED YESTERDAY BUT THEN CHANGED HER MIND, NO NOT LIVING PARTIALLY IN THE U.K. AND ABROAD. NO NO NOPE NO U.K. SHE JUST CANNOT GET OUT OF HER OWN WAY!!

TO EXTEND AN OLIVE BRACH, THE TERM GOES WAY WAY BACK, BUT IT MEANS TO GIVE SOMETHING TO MAKE SOMEONE HAPPY IN A DISPUTE, THATS THE SHORT DEFINITION. WELL IT INITIALLY WORKED BUT WHEN MADAM HAD TIME TO THINK NO,SHE WANTED MORE YET, NO U.K. NOPE NOT GONNA DO IT. NOPE!!

PP SAYING BURN THE BLEEPING OLIVE BRANCH!! ONCE BITTEN,TWICE SHY. THIS IS ANOTHER OLD PHRASE HE JUST USED THE FIRST PART. EXAMPLE, DOG COMES UP, YOU PET HIM HE BITES YOU. WOULD YOU PET HIM AGAIN? I DONT THINK SO. THIS PHRASE IS NOT EXCLUSIVE TO BITING. EXAMPLE FRIENDS ASKS FOR MONEY , HE’S DESPERATE, YOU GIVE BUT NEVER GET PAID BACK AND ITS NEVER MENTIONED. THEN HE ASKS AGAIN FOR MONEY WOULD YOU GIVE?? DOES THIS MAKE SENSE, I HOPE SO, I TRY EVER SO HARD, FOLKS ALL OVER THE WORLD READ THESE AND I WANT EVERYONE TO UNDERSTAND THE SLANG WORDS OR SAYINGS.

MADAM, ON PAPER, HAS AN OBSESSION WITH LIVING IN CANADA. NOW KIDS, ALL OF ADULTS KNOW WHY, TAXES!! A CAMBRIDGE TOUR OF 🇨🇦 CANADA, WITH THE ENTIRE FAMILY IN TOW, HOW MARVELLOUS. 💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜CAN YOU POP BY MY PLACE AND SAY HI PG??💜💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜😁😁😁😊😊😊😁😁😁 OH YOUR MAJESTY, TOUCHÉ INDEED. MADAM WOULD BE SCREAMING LIKE A BANSHEE🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂🤣🤣. THEY WILL GETS SUCH HUGE CROWDS AND A WARM LOVING RECEPTION, THE LIKES OF WHICH MADAM CAN ONLY DREAM OF, AND EVEN HER DREAMS WOULD NOT DO IT JUSTICE. 💜💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻YOUR MAJESTY, I WOULD CURTSEY, WERE I PHYSICALLY ABLE TO CHEERS🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 🥂.

inde redire eruditionis Habes

And repeat learning you

ONE LEARNS THE HARD WAY, LIFE IS FOR LEARNING. WOW OUR DEAR HARRY HAS LEARNED HASN’T HE? SURELY HE WAS A VICTIM! MILLIONS OF BOOTY CALLS HAPPEN DAILY, THIS WAS COMPLETELY UNFORESEEABLE. 💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻HARRY YOU ARE LOVED MORE THAN YOU KNOW. I PRAY FOR A VERY HAPPY LIFE FOR YOU. YOUR TIME WITH HER IS OVER, LOTS TO DEAL WIT TO BE SURE.

ITS INTERESTING, A FEW DAYS AGO, SOMEONE MADE A POST ON SKIPPY’S BLOG ABOUT MY ERUDITE WRITING. LITERALLY FROM THE LATIN TRANSLATES AS , SOUNDING LIKE YODA IT IS 💜💜💜💜AND REPEAT LEARNING YOU💜💜💜💜. ERUDITE IS SIMPLY, RATHER NOT SIMPLY BUT DEMONSTRATING A VAST ARRAY OF KNOWLEDGE WHICH BECOMES EVIDENT IN CONVERSATION OR I GUESS IN TUMBLR IT WOULD BE THROUGH ONE’S WRITINGS. . My DEAR MM ANON, MIGHT I BE SO BOLD, BECAUSE YOU AND I HAVE GOTTEN TO KNOW ONE ANOTHER VIA THESE RIDDLES AND INTERPRETATIONS , MIGHT I BE SO BOLD AS TO SUGGEST THAT A PART OF THIS IS REFERRING TO MY SKILLS OF INTERPRETING YOUR RIDDLES??

1455 hrs CST

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Thank you PG looks great….😊💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

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170: Jan 16

LET THAT SINK IN KIDS, THIS IS MY 160TH RIDDLE INTERPRETATION, WOW WOW WOW☺️☺️😊💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

skippyv20

MM Anon I just found this!

MM ANON,……… sea-plane PR. ……… where’s Harry?………… “ leaves 15million mansion visits poor shelter 🤣🤣🤣………… so broke,(woke)……… Paternal hurricane ……… Royal courts of Justice ……… “ write me a roll”………… “what Megan wants, Megan forgets”:……… Calipornia politics? ………… “she can be the new AOC” ……… she’ll campaign for Dems……… “OW ,tell all coming”. ……… negotiations,negotiations!!! …… W&K kill it !!!

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #170!!!! January 16/2020

0020 hrs CST SKIPPY JUST FOUND THE RIDDLE JUST POSTED!

MM Anon I just found this!

sea-plane PR. ……… where’s Harry?………… “ leaves 15million mansion visits poor shelter 🤣🤣🤣………… so broke,(woke)

MADAM IS LIKE WHERES WALDO, SHE “ALLEGEDLY” POPS UP IN THE ODDEST PLACES, IN PHOTOSHOPPED, ALLEGEDLY BUT LETS BE CLEAR THEY ARE PHOTOSHOPPED PHOTOS AT THE ODDEST ANGLES, IN PHOTOS FROM THE SAME DAY, ALLEGEDLY, THE SWEATER CHANGES, HER BOOTS CHANGE, HER THIGH SIZE CHANGES, HER NECKLACE CHANGE FROM A GOLD CIRCLE THING TO A WHALE, EARRINGS ON, THEN OFF, HAIR LENGTH CHANGES. ITS LIKE YOU FEEL INSANE LOOKING AT THESE PHOTOS AND THEN YOU REALIZE YOU ARE THE SANE ONE🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂THIS CALIFORNIA GIRL, LEAVES THE MANSION, AND ALL ITS COMFORTS, TO FLY PUBLIC IN A SEAPLANE TO VISIT THE MOST DIFFICULT PART OF THE CITY. I CALL BS, OR AS COLONEL POTTER ON M*A*S*H USED TO SAY, HORSE HOKKY 😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. SHE IS DOING ALL OF THIS ON HER DEVICE FROM WHEREVER SHE IS IN CUSTODY, AT SOHO, ETC.

HARRY APPEARS IN NONE, DESPITE HE WAS TO FLY OUT RIGHT AFTER THE BIG MEETING AT SANDRINGHAM. THURSDAY HE HAS THE RUGBY AT BP. HE WAS SUPPOSED TO FLY OUT AFTER THAT. NOW BP HAS SOME APPEARANCES FOR HIM NEXT WEEK. I LOVE THE LINE IN THE ARTICLE POSTED ON THE BLOG” as the story changes “ SOMETHING LIKE THAT. THIS IS ALL CONTINUED KABUKI KIDS. I DO NOT BELIEVE FOR ONE SINGLE SECOND SHE IS CURRENTLY IN VI. SHE HAS CALLED IN THE FEW FAVOURS SHE HAS LEFT. SHE HAS TO MERCH!! EVEN TWO YEAR OLD PARKA CAN BRING MONEY IN L GUESS .

TERRIBLE SNOWY STORMY WEATHER IN VANCOUVER, YET OUT SHE GOES, TO ENLIGHTEN THE POOREST OF THE POOR IN A VANCOUVER WOMENS CENTRE. HER MYSOGYNISTIC USE OF OTHER AT RISK WOMEN, IS VILE, DISGUSTING EVIL, THE WORKS OF SATAN!!

Paternal hurricane ……… Royal courts of Justice ……… “ write me a roll”…………

WELL ITS COMING KIDS, NETTY IS DOING HIS BIT. THE CHIEF JUSTICE AND OTHER JUSTICES(JUDGES) OF THE COURT OF ENGLAND AND WALES ARE ON THE CASE. DNA WILL BE REVEALED, HARRY WILL BE TOLD HE IS NOT THE FATHER, FEIGN SHICK DEVASTATION ETC ETC. THIS WILL BE A MASSIVE PR HURRICANE. PATERNAL MEANS FATHER OR OF THE FATHER SIDE OF THE FAMILY. I WONDER IF THEY KNOW OR WILL REVEAL THE TRUE FATHER, LIKELY NOT.PROTECTING THE BABY IS PARAMOUNT. WRITE ME A ROLL😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣 , NO THE JUSTICES WONT WRITE HER A ROLE, AS IN ACTING, IT WILL BE A ROLL, AS IN DECREE OF GUILT OR INNOCENCE. REMEMBER THE FANCY GOLDEN SCROLL DR GOT FOR THE ENGAGEMENT? LEGAL PAPERS ARE WRITTEN KIND OF LIKE THAT BUT NOT, IF THAT MAKES SENSE. BASICALLY THE VERDICT, WRITE THE VERDICT FOR THE PUBLIC RECORD. OH THIS WILL BE SOOOO GOOD.

INFORMATION RE ROLLS FROM WIKI….

Keeper or Master of the Rolls and Records of the Chancery of England, known as the Master of the Rolls, is the President of the Court of Appeal of England and Wales, Civil Division, and Head of Civil Justice. As a judge, he is the second in seniority in England and Wales only to the Lord Chief Justice, who is Baron Maldonado, Lord Ian Duncan Burnett or NETTY, PP LONG TERM MATE!! The Master of the Rolls was initially a clerk responsible for keeping the “Rolls” or records. End wiki.

“what Megan wants, Megan forgets”:……… Calipornia politics? ………… “she can be the new AOC” ……… she’ll campaign for Dems……… “

NO MORE WHAT SHE WANTS AND GETS NOW ITS FORGETS. SHE MISSES ALL THE SMALL DETAILS

AOC, DESPITE THE INTERNET HAVING BEEN SCRUBBED BY THE BEST, OUR TEAM HERE , STIL FIND MANY GLARING DISCREPANCIES, BE IT IN THE SEAPLANE, THE MAGIC SNOW THAT ONLY FELL IN PART OF THE PHOTO, ALL THE DISCREPANCIES, YOU READ THE BLOG YOU KNOW THEM!

AOC, NEWLY ELECTED TO THE CONGRESS IN AMERICA AOC, AS SHE HAS BECOME KNOWN, EASIER TO TYPE. AOC IS WIKI💜💜💜Alexandria Ocasio-Cortezis a politician and activist who serves as the U.S. Representative for New York’s 14th congressional district. is an American politician and activist who serves as the U.S. Representative for New York’s 14th congressional district. 💜💜 SHE HAS BEEN VERY OUTSPOKEN AND POLARIZING BUT NO POLITICS TALK. MADAM IS PROBABLY OOZING TO GET THE PRESS AOC GETS!!

IS THE BACKERS NEW PLAN TO HAVE HER RUN FOR SOME DEMOCRATIC POSITION IN THE 2029 AMERICAN ELECTION AS THE NEW AOC BRAND ?🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂 WOW THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY MIGHT WANT TO THINK TWICE ABOIT THIS, SHE MAY BE IN CUSTODY😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣.

“OW ,tell all coming”. ……… negotiations,negotiations!!!

RUMOURS AGAIN OF A TELL ALL BY MADAM, WITH OW NO LESS COUGH BACKER, COUGH COUGH BACKER!!!! LOTS OF BACK AND FORTH TO ARRANGE, DISCUSS, MERCH ETC ETC ETC. MAKES ME SICK.EVIL EVIL EVIL PERNICIOUS WOMAN. OK KIDS INWONT POST HAMLET ANYMORE BUTTHAT FITS HER SO PERFECTLY!!

W&K kill it !!!

THEY ARE ON FIRE IN TERMS OF BEING LOVED AND POPULARITY, ALL BASED ON REALITY NOTHING FAKE OR PRETENTIOUS. WHEN WILLIAM GAVE CATHERINE THAT WHITE ROSE TODAY I TEARED UP, IT WAS A MOMENT BETWEEN THE TWO, SO SPECIAL. ANYTHING MADAM DOES, THEY GET MORE LOVE, RESPECT AND ATTENTION FOR JUST SMILING. THEY ARE GOING TO , AS THE KIDS SAYS, SLAY IN 2020!! THEIR CHILDREN CONTINUE TO GROW AND WHO DOESN’T LIVE THEM?? WAIT UNTIL WE SEE MORE OF BOSS BABY TURNED INTO BOSS TODDLER, IT WILL BE CRAZY POPULARITY!! A TOUR OF CANADA 🇨🇦 AMD AMERICA PERHAPS, OH PLEASE DO STOP IN, SAY HELLO, I WOULD DIE, ABSOLUTELY DIE IF THAT HAPPENED. WERE I ABLE TO TRAVEL I WOULD GO TO WHERE THEY WILL VISIT. 2020 IS GOING TO DRIVE THEIR POPULARITY EVEN HIGHER. I CANNOT WAIT!!💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜. 0105 hrs CST

Wow! PG it sounds like we are in the home stretch doesn’t it! How we have prayed for this! I can’t wait! Thank you, so appreciate this….wow…you have done soooo many….wow!😊💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

[depraved-maniac]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse Rating: Explicit Relationships: Michael Langdon/Reader Summary

Michael Langdon has arrived at the Outpost and you find yourself vying to secure your place at The Sanctuary. You're willing to do almost anything to secure your future. Almost. Though the world has changed, you have not. You're dedicated to your beliefs and refuse to compromise your innocence to gain favor, which is exactly why Michael wants you. As the last virgin on Earth, you've been chosen to serve a purpose that threatens everything you stand for.

You're a good girl. You really are. The problem is that Michael Langdon makes you want to do very bad things.

You don’t trust the visitor.

You don’t respect the way he shatters the Outpost’s monotony with the promise of sanctuary for some, and damnation for the unworthy. You don’t like the pressure of meeting his unknowable expectations or the way those expectations can be felt in his piercing, leonine gaze.

You don’t like that he sees you. You’d grown accustomed to blending in with the background over the long months. You diligently perform the tasks expected of your rank as a Gray. You do not step out of line, you do not draw a curious eye. Your life has been reduced to being a servile shadow to those more privileged. Your pride is wounded, but it is a small price to pay for the promise of safety. That’s how the game is played.

Until now.

Michael Langdon was here to revise the rules and turn the current order on its purple and gray head, and there was nothing you could do but bite your nails and hope you said just the right thing to please him.

Please him, you scoff. You glare at your reflection, annoyed with how normal subservience has become to you. You hold your gaze in search of the confident spark of a young woman who’d once been proudly self-assured, determined and outspoken. A woman that was forced to take a step back under the new world order. A woman tucked away, indefinitely sleeping.

For me, you amend. For The Sanctuary. You untangle your hair from its ridiculous topknot and comb through the tangles with your fingers. You groan as you massage the soreness from your scalp.

You begin to strip off your gray garb. The shapeless dress and dirty apron pool at your feet. Chill sweeps over your skin, and you are quick to pull on the dress you save for special occasions. The white cotton is soft against your skin. The waist is fitted, the hem falling just below your knees. You admire the sweep of the neckline below your collarbone and take a moment to unreservedly appreciate your reflection. It’s been so long since you felt pretty.

You brush your wavy hair behind your shoulders and bite the red back into your lips. Your cheeks are already mottled with your nerves.

You don’t trust the visitor, and he probably doesn’t trust you. The interview is your one opportunity to give him reason to. Give him something if it means ascertaining your safety. You’d do anything to ensure your future. Well...almost.

Your eyes fall to the peek of cleavage exposed by the loose garment and you self-consciously pull it back up. With quiet fingers, you adjust the chain of the gold crucifix lying against your clavicle, making sure your modesty is hinted in a way that spares you from having to draw any awkward boundaries.

It’s an interview, not an audition. You inhale deeply, exhale slowly, and try to muster the courage required to leave your room.

Your steps are slow, yet purposeful, as you make your way along the servant’s corridor, down the staircase, past the library, around a corner and down another hall until you find yourself at a bulky, dark wood door. Your hand is trembling as you raise your fist to knock. However, before your knuckles have a chance to rap against the door, it slides open. You hesitate just before stepping inside.

You anticipate him to be standing on the other side of the threshold, waiting with a calculative gaze. What you find is an empty room, lit by a dozen wax candles. A fire crackles in the stone fireplace. Its flickering light makes the shadows in the room contort in a way that is unsettling. The air in here is stuffy as you step further inside. You can feel it cling to your skin, leaving it balmy.

When the doors behind you close, you turn to face them. The voice in your ear is spoken from behind. “You’re late.”

You gasp at the unexpected presence at your shoulder and stumble a few steps away. Your hand is pressed over your heart to keep it still.

Langdon is watching you with patient passivity, leaving you to believe his words were not meant as a reprimand. Regardless, he’s made it clear that he’s keeping track of your missteps. He’s moved the first chess piece. The game has begun, and it’s your move.

“I still got here first,” you counter. Your words are childish. Before you have time to regret your impulse to be argumentative, you notice Langdon’s lip curl. He likes the less docile side of you. Good. You straighten your posture to regain the appearance of composure though the feeling of it seems to have fled the moment you felt him breathe against your ear. “So, how are we going to do this?”

He just barely tilts his head. His strong brows crease and draw a shadow over his eyes that somehow manages to heighten their penetrative intensity. “Do what?”

Now you wish you’d bitten your tongue, because you don’t know how to answer him when he’s looking at you as if he’s read you for the umpteenth time and he’s bored. How can you continue this show of confidence when you no longer have the backbone needed to maintain it? “Aren’t you going to ask me questions?”

“Has someone told you I would?”

You shake your head. “I haven’t spoken to anyone. That would be cheating.”

“Good girl.” He says this with mocking adulation to drive home how unimpressed he is by your virtuousness.

You flush, embarrassed with the way he’s making you feel ashamed for doing the right thing. Heat is in your cheeks and neck, and you curse the way your body betrays how easily he can make you uncomfortable. The telltale reaction only worsens as he steps closer until he’s looming before you. Instinct is screaming for you to flee, but you hold your ground, lift your chin and meet his eyes.

Looking at him is like looking at the sun. His beauty is the sort that demands attention. You find yourself conscious of him, whether you want to be or not. You have to look at him. It feels mandatory that you admire the sharp cut of his jawline, his hooded sapphire gaze, the fullness of his mouth and the fall of his gold hair. He is the morning star that rises to put the glory of the sky to shame. You’re compelled to marvel, though his image leaves you burning.

“The world is no longer a place where your moral integrity will earn you the brownie points to get you where you want. Those were someone else’s rules.” His gaze drops to the pendant of Christ hanging from your neck before returning to you, amused. “Not mine.”

You don’t like the suggestive implication in his tone. You dislike even more how you react to it, a very different sort of heat now tingling across your skin. “What are your rules?”

“That’s the best part: there aren’t any.”

Concern crinkles between your brows as you try to comprehend what he’s saying.

“Anything is fair game. However,” he begins to slowly circle you as he speaks. “If you lie, I will know. If you hedge, I will know. And if you try to trick me, I will know, and this interview will be over, and you will die here painfully.” He pauses at your shoulder, his mouth once more at your ear and his breath hot against your neck. “Are we clear?”

Your heartbeat would give a hummingbird’s wing a run for its money. “Those sound like rules to me.”

You can hear the amusement in the purr of his voice. “Merely preferences. You are allowed to lie to me, you are allowed to avoid my questions and you are allowed to attempt to fool me, just as I, in turn, am allowed to kill you for it.”

“Does that mean I am allowed to kill you?”

“You’re allowed to try.” He returns to his place before you, his long hair casting half his face in shadow. “Do you want to?”

“No. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone.”

“Not even the one responsible for ending the world?”

You don’t understand the significance of what feels like a pointless conversation, but he looks to be waiting for your answer. “Would revenge change anything? Anyway, whoever is responsible for this is probably dead along with everyone else.”

“And if they weren’t?”

You are unable to determine what he’s alluding to. “And if they weren’t, would I want to kill them?” He watches as you consider the question. You move your eyes to the fireplace as you think. Your fingers come up to toy with your necklace as you recall the memories of your family, your friends, your home, and how they were stolen from you forever. A second of reminiscing is all you allow yourself, because you know how much you’re capable of handling before you begin to feel your eyes sting. You already know you miss them, just as you already know this new life is merely a weed compared to the bouquet of possibilities promised by your old one. “Can I give a complicated answer?”

“You can give an honest answer.”

“I don’t think killing them would be my first impulse. I’d need to know why they did it.”

Langdon’s expression remains unreadable. “You would bother to put the harbinger of the Apocalypse on trial?”

“Not because I think there’s any way for them to defend what they did, but…” You hesitate, frustrated to find the right words to express such a complicated sentiment. “I doubt their motivation for ending the world had anything to do with my family or my friends. The people I cared about were victims, but they weren’t targets. For me to feel so vengeful as to kill someone, my anger would have to come from a personal place.” You finally return your eyes to his and have the gall to shrug your shoulder. “And I just can’t be expected to take the Apocalypse personally.”

Langdon laughs. It is neither mocking nor patronizing. The sound echoes around the stone chamber, unexpectedly pleasant and rich. For a sliver of a moment, he is reachable, and you manage to glimpse the boy that exists inside the enigmatic man.

“Such a strong sense of justice,” he says when his laughter calms. “You really are a good girl, aren’t you? Tell me, what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

You shake your head. “I don’t remember.”

“I thought I made it clear there’d be no lying?” He chastises.

It no longer feels like you’re on equal footing. He’s staring down the straight line of his nose at you, the set of his mouth taught. You’re being told off like you’re a child, but this time you suspect that it isn’t a simple spanking you’ll get. No standing in a corner, no hand-written apology. You bite your lip as cold rinses through you. You’re afraid of what’s coming. You’re afraid he’s going to hurt you.

“Get on your knees.”

Your eyes snap to his. There’s ice in your veins. You’re terrified of where this might be going. You frantically search his face for any hint that what he has planned is meant to violate as much as punish. “What? Why?”

“To confess.” His hand grips your shoulder, just firm enough to pressure you down. Understanding that you have the option to either play along or forfeit the game, you lower yourself to your knees before him.

The stone floor is unforgiving below your naked knees and you grimace as your bones grind. You grip your skirt to quell the trembling in your fingers, and glare at his polished shoes. You know why he’s having you take this position. You know it has everything to do with the cross around your neck. He’s mocking you, and you can only hope that’s all he plans to do.

You refuse to let your imagination take you to where this could be headed. You refuse to feed into your fear. “I’ve done some things, but nothing worth mentioning. Nothing stands out.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that,” he says from above. “Not from a girl like you.”

“A girl like me?”

He crouches before you. You flinch when his hand settles beneath your chin and forces your eyes to meet his. Your faces are mere inches apart. He’s so close, you can feel him breathing against your mouth. You expect to be frightened, but it isn’t fear that simmers low in your belly as you stare into eyes that share their color with the same sky you thought you’d seen the last of the day the world came to an end.

“Young, pretty, rich,” his other hand caresses the crucifix at your throat, “devout. You are the recipe for a rebellious stage.”

His hands are gone from you now, but he’s still too close for you to think clearly. You know he’s not asking to hear about that one time you stole candy from the grocery store when you were five, or the time you egged the house of a girl from school because she made fun of your new haircut. The problem is that you don’t have much to confess. You never thought you’d find yourself in a situation where you were repenting for not having more of a wild streak.

“Nothing?” He presses, his gaze searching yours.

You know he’s waiting for some kind of response from you, but you’re not paying attention to what’s being said anymore. He smells like cinder and cinnamon. If you closed your eyes, you could easily imagine being back home with your family, seated around the firepit in the backyard. You loved sitting out with them late into the night, just talking around a warm fire and sipping cinnamon tea. This smell is nostalgic and warm. You want to bury yourself in it.

You snap to the moment you feel the softness of his lapel beneath your fingertips. You freeze when you realize how close you’ve leaned in, your mouth but a hairsbreadth away from his. Your eyes sweep to his to find that he doesn’t look surprised by your actions. There isn’t a trace of the smugness you expect to see from someone who considers you predictable. He’s simply patient as he continues to walk you through this exchange.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, pulling away from him.

“Are you?”

Again, he is waiting for your answer. Challenging you in all the ways that make you uncomfortable. You cannot help but to drop your eyes to his mouth. You don’t know what’s wrong with you, having such thoughts at such an inopportune time, but you can’t stop them. He’s so close and his warmth and smell are all you can focus on. You shake your head, feeling your face flame.

His lip curls as if he’s pleased with himself for being right. When he stands to put space between you, you feel that draw for him dissipate like two weak magnets drawn too far apart. “There is no need to apologize for doing what you want, as long as you are prepared to accept the consequences.”

“I didn’t realize what I was doing,” you explain. It’s important that he knows you would never resort to using your body to get what you want.

“I know,” he assures you smoothly. He comes to stand before you again, and raises his hand back to your face. This time his fingers drag against your cheek and pause at the corner of your lips. His eyes are on them as he speaks. “It’s your nature, given what you are. It would be hypocritical of me to judge you for it.”

Immediately, you take offense. You turn your head away from his hand and glare up at him. “My nature? You mean, as a woman?”

He smiles at your indignation, and crouches before you again. His voice is velvet. “As a virgin.”

Your skin blisters with embarrassment, your heart kickstarting to an impossible speed. “How do you know?”

“Lucky guess,” he purrs, and his fingers snag against your crucifix as he moves his hand over your flying heartbeat.

You understand that you should be against him touching you with such familiarity, but you can’t bring yourself to push him away. With reluctance, you admit that you like the feel of his hands against your skin. Despite what he’s saying, it isn’t because you’re a virgin that you’re responding so strongly to his touch. It’s him. Everything about him is magnetic. He’s impossible to resist, as if he were tailor-made to suit your preferences.

“Are you saving yourself?”

He asks this with no hesitancy. He knows you’ll answer him. It’s this certainty of his that makes answering so easy, despite your shyness. “I am, but I don’t think it matters anymore.” He looks at you to explain. You can feel the dullness of your smile. “I don’t see marriage in my future.”

He offers a small laugh and drops his hand away from your skin. “None of the other survivor’s have caught your eye?”

The suggestion is absurd enough to make you laugh a little. The people you’ve been holed up with these past few months are tolerable, at best. Most of the time, you can’t suffer the sound of their breathing, never mind their constant bickering and whining. “They’re not my type.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I’m not begging.”

“No, not yet.” The words are a promise veiled in ambiguity. He takes your hand and pulls you up from the floor. He doesn’t let go as he leads you towards the fireplace where he invites you to take a seat on the brickstone beside him. “What is your type?”

You shake your head, at a loss. “Is this part of the interview?”

“If I am asking, then it is fair to assume that it is.”

“You ask everyone these questions?”

“I ask each of you exactly what I wish to know.”

You’re seated so close to him that your hips are touching. You know this nearness is purposeful on his part, but you’re too captivated by him to put space between you. You try to justify it to your conscience with weak excuses about how long it’s been since you last felt the warmth of another person so directly. You know it’s more than that. You can’t stop thinking about his overly-familiar hands.

“Why do you want to know? Are you running a matchmaking service for The Sanctuary?” It’s a lame attempt at being funny, but you kind of want to make him laugh again. You’re disappointed that it doesn’t work.

“Even if I were, you wouldn’t benefit from it.”

The comment is oddly definitive. You sense that there’s something you’re missing. Something that has everything to do with you and your future. “Why?”

“That’s classified. As for why I want to know this...let’s just say, I’m curious.”

You have to look away from him in order to collect your thoughts. This is only marginally helpful; you can look away, but there is little you can do about the intoxicating way he smells or the press of him against you.

“Let me think,” you request, sifting through your memories for the faces of all the boys you’d once liked and hoping to find some sort of pattern that will satisfy Langdon and put an end to this inane topic. “Well, my ex-boyfriend was tall, brunette, and--”

“What did he do to you?” Langdon interrupts.

You avoid his eyes. “Why do you think he did something to me?”

“Don’t hedge,” he reminds you with softened authority. His fingers return to your chin and he forces your eyes back to his. If you were to just barely lean in, your noses would touch. “Did he try to fuck you?”

The crassness of the word makes you cringe. You swallow past the distaste the memory of your ex-boyfriend has left in your mouth. “Maybe.”

Annoyance fractures his carefully managed indifference. You can feel it in the fingers he has digging into your jaw. “Either commit to answering me, or we end this.”

The memories are near enough for them to still draw anger. You don’t want to think about your ex-boyfriend and all the ways he tried to manipulate you into going too far. “He tried to convince me that I could give him oral and stay a virgin.”

Langdon remains distantly unsurprised. “Did you?”

“No.”

“Good.”

His thumb drags below your lower lip and you resist the urge to taste it. Again, you don’t know what’s come over you. It’s like you’re under a spell. You’re intoxicated, drunk on the smell and heat emanating from him. With every passing minute, you feel the locked grip you have on your restraint loosening.

“Tell me more,” he demands. “What else did he do?”

“He touched me.” You’re so embarrassed that you feel the heat in your face creep into your eyes, glazing them.

Langdon’s fingers are at your neck, tracing the chain of your necklace. He slowly lifts his eyes to yours with the covetous air of an apex predator. His voice is silken. “Did you like it when he touched you?”

You swallow around the lump that is denial in your throat. The good girl in you is desperate to voice it, but the man in front of you will not permit it. Not again.

“You can tell me,” he coaxes gently. “No one can hear you here. Not even God.”

The Lord’s name is profane coming from this silver-tongued angel. It leaves your stomach fluttering. Your voice is barely a whisper. “Sometimes I liked it.”

His barely-there smile is back. He’s pleased with you. “When?”

“When he’d sneak into my room,” you reply, your breath tight.

Langdon’s smile is borderline tender, as if he’s endeared. “You like the idea of getting caught doing something you shouldn’t. A Catholic schoolgirl who will regularly get on her knees for a man,” he purposefully drops his eyes to your pendant, “just not the one who loves her.”

Of everything he’s said so far, you take the most offense to this. “He didn’t love me.”

“Would you have let him fuck you if he did?”

Your gaze hardens. The heat in your cheeks burns for a different reason. “I told you I’m saving myself.”

Langdon’s lionlike gaze is unapologetic. “You seem like you could be convinced.”

You understand why he thinks this. Not once tonight have you slapped his hands away or given him any reason to think you are against it. If you’re still being honest, you aren’t against the touching. In fact, you find yourself hoping for a little more of it. What you’re not wanting is everything it’s leading to. “There’s nothing you can say or do that he didn’t try already.”

“And who says I want to try?” Langdon challenges.

“You can’t keep your hands off me.”

“You don’t want me to.”

Your mouth snaps shut, your rebuttal stoppered because, well, he isn’t wrong. All you can manage is a weak glare, which only makes him smile. He’s caught you red-handed.

He takes your silence as permission to shift closer to you. He’s reasserted his control over the conversation, over you. “Is this how you made your boyfriend suffer? By giving him a sample, but denying him a taste?” His fingertips tickle the back of your arm as he speaks. His touch sends shivers up your spine. “They have a name for girls like you.”

“Prude?” You’re tempted to roll your eyes.

“Tease,” he whispers into your ear. His mouth lingers against the shell, and very slowly, he drags his velveteen lips against it. His hand is resting against your back. “How far did you let him go before you made him stop?”

You close your eyes against the lance of heat targeted between your thighs. It’s been so long since you last felt the feverish craving that was roused by the nearness of a man. His mouth brushing your ear is all your imagination needs before it runs wild with fantasies of him brushing it elsewhere. You imagine that velvety softness dragging warm and slow against your neck, your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, that predatory gaze weighing your reaction as he samples you with his tongue. The burn for him is immediate and overwhelming. You clench a white-knuckled fist against your upper thigh.

“Answer me,” he demands.

“I always made him stop,” you say in a shuddery breath. “I had a rule: when I said Hail Mary, he stopped. It was like my safe word.”

His lip curls in another almost-smile. He’s amused at your choice of safe word. “That doesn’t answer my question. How far did you let him go before you were praying to the Blessed Virgin to stop him?”

“I only let him kiss me.”

“Lie to me one more time. I dare you.”

The threat drags over you with a violence that agitates the heat pricking below your skin. You’re not afraid of punishment, you’re afraid of how viscerally you’re responding to him. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you can still feel it on you. You’re burning beneath it. “Sometimes…I’d get carried away.”

“How far away?” He asks gently. His fingertips trace along the edge of your dress until they reach the hem. He massages the material between his thumb and forefinger as he waits for your answer. The back of his hand is resting against your knee.

“This is embarrassing,” you say, hoping he’s feeling merciful.

“I don’t care.” He smooths his hand over your knee. His fingertips tickle the inside of your leg.

“Like I said, it really was just kissing. Mostly. But sometimes when he was on top of me, I’d let him…” Mortified, you struggle to get the words out. You make a nonsensical gesture with your hand. The tilt of his head is minute, but it’s enough for you to know he’s not following. You close your eyes and try to imagine none of this is real. You’re not really saying this. “I think it’s called grinding?”

“You let him rub his cock against you,” Langdon reiterates with cruel bluntness.

“Our clothes stayed on,” you assure him. You are certain any more embarrassment will cause your face to blister. “And it only happened a few times.”

“Regardless,” Langdon imposes. He moves his hand just beneath the hem of your dress until his palm is flush with your thigh. “You let him. You tested your boundaries. Why?”

“He said he loved me.” You lift your eyes to his, but you immediately wish you didn’t, because you feel and sound foolish. Naive. Delusional. Someone easy to take advantage of. “Sorry, that probably sounds stupid.”

“It doesn’t.” The way his eyes hold yours, unflinchingly certain and responsive, allows you to believe that he means it. He removes his hand from your thigh so he can drag the back of his fingers against your cheek. His gaze is softer. “You trusted him and he betrayed you. You did nothing wrong.”

You already know that, but you still need to hear it. The pain of betrayal has now ebbed to a mere sting, but it’s enough to pull heat and wet into your eyes. “He left me when he realized I wasn’t going to give in. He didn’t think I was serious. I guess he also thought I could be convinced.”

You throw Langdon’s words back at him. He receives them with an impressed smile. “But now he’s dead, and you’ve resigned yourself to a lifetime of celibacy. What a tragic ending for you both.”

“What choice do I have?”

“Me,” he replies, his hand now combing into your hair, his thumb dragging against the line of your jaw as he leans closer. “I’ll fuck you.”

It’s that word again. You’re supposed to hate the way it sounds, but you don’t. You’re supposed to feel disgusted with him, but you aren’t. You’re ensnared by his smell and heat and face. The desire to give in mounts. “I can’t.”

“Seven billion people were erased from this world in the blink of an eye, and you think your God cares about you getting fucked without a ring on your finger?”

“My choices have nothing to do with God. I’m waiting for the person that will commit their life to me. Whoever that person is, I want them to have everything.”

Langdon is still. He doesn’t reply immediately. Instead he stares at you. Through you. The sensation feels as if you’re being read, like he’s reaching into your skull and sifting through the truths for the one lie you know he will not find. You haven’t lied to him. You are, indeed, a good girl.

He smiles and it’s boyish and brilliant and breathtaking. His other hand comes to grip the other side of your head, and he’s cupping your face in both of his warm hands. “You’re perfect,” he says approvingly. “You’re no angel, but you’re close enough. Father is going to love you.”

The fire behind you flares as if it’s alive, agreeing with him. You can almost feel the dancing flames reaching to pull you in. The heat is overwhelming against your back, and your skin struggles to breathe beneath your dress. It’s all so suffocating, but you don’t want to move because his lips are so close to yours. With just the tilt of your chin, you’ll feel them. Warm, full, soft, the hungry press of a man’s tongue against your own.

It takes incredible self-control to deny caving into your hunger. “Is this how you’ve treated everyone before me? If I kiss you, will I fail?”

His sigh is a soft breath against your face. In that brief moment, he looks tired. Annoyance then darkens his gaze, but somehow you know it isn’t annoyance with you. The hand he has against your face is much too gentle to be angry with you. He stands and puts distance between the two of you. Just like that, you can breathe. You shake your head from your stupor and press a palm to your damp forehead.

What was that?

There’s a desk in the corner of the room, and you watch as he leans against it. He crosses his arms and the mood shifts. The heat no longer snaps excitedly against your skin. It’s humid. Dense. The fire at your back feels ready to engulf you. You want to leave, and by the looks of it, he’s about to let you.

“Your station has changed,” Langdon continues casually, picking up a conversation you never started. His leonine-heavy gaze returns to you. “As of now, you are no longer expected to take orders from anyone at this Outpost. For the next few days, you are to adapt to your new rank.”

“Hold on a second,” you appeal, still needing a moment to regain your bearings from that almost-kiss. “I’m getting promoted? I’m not a Gray anymore?” Your legs feel weak beneath you when you stand. Your heart is exhausted. Any more excitement and it might actually give out.

“You are neither a Gray, a Purple, or any other absurd class improvised by Wilhemina Venable to feed her tyrannical god complex.”

Your head spins as you try to decipher what he’s suggesting, but any effort is constantly interrupted with the rejoiceful slip of I passed looping through your mind. You aren’t a Gray anymore. You’re just you. Free. Safe. “I’m going to The Sanctuary?”

“You’ll go where I think you’ll be safest.”

That brings you to a halt. You pause walking, your eyes locked with his. “What do you mean? Why would you care about my safety? You don’t even know me.”

“True,” he agrees, taking the first step forward to close the distance between you again. You’re beginning to notice a pattern where he seems unable to tolerate speaking outside the area of your personal space. “But I don’t need to know your favorite color, the name of your first pet, or how old you were when you started your period. That information is neither interesting to me nor useful.”

Your eyes narrow, tight with mistrust. “You need me to be useful?”

“You will be. Or at least part of you.” He drags his gaze below your hips to make a point.

You bristle. All desire you feel for him is wrung from you with that one glance. “I will not serve as your sex slave.”

His blue stare is disparaging. He looks bored again, as if you’re discussing business and he’s simply filling you in on last meeting’s notes. “If I wanted a sex slave, do you really think I’d choose the last virgin on Earth for the job?”

The last virgin on Earth. You wonder if that’s true. You wonder how he could possibly even know that, and yet you’re positive that he does. Somehow, some way, this man has knowledge that should be impossible. “I think you’d choose someone that poses a challenge, and I think the last virgin on Earth would be exactly that for you.”

His smile is impressed again, but his gaze is harder. Arrogant. He steps forward to tower over you. His blonde hair slips from behind his shoulders to frame the magnificence of his face in a golden halo. “Does figuring me out make you feel smart?”

You aren’t allowed to lie. You haven’t forgotten. “I don’t feel smart, I feel afraid. I don’t understand what you want from me.”

“What I want is your unwavering conviction.” His hands lift to grip your hips and he pulls you closer. The buckle of his belt presses uncomfortably against you, his mouth once more at your ear. “I need you to deny me and mean it. I need your innocence to remain more important to you than this.”

He takes your hand and presses your open fingers against his crotch. He grinds himself into your palm so you can feel the fullness of him in your hand. Your fingers twitch with the desire to close around that hardness and heat. Just as he asks, just as you want, you forcibly snatch your hand away and whip it across his face.

The spark of pain smarting against your palm precedes the awareness of what you’ve done. Langdon’s golden hair curtains his face. You can’t read his expression. You can’t see how angry he is. You don’t care. You pull yourself free of him and move backward towards the doors, watching as he straightens to watch you go. His gaze drags against your skin. He smirks as if he approves, as if he’s satisfied.

“Why?” Is all you are able to ask. Nothing makes sense. You haven’t felt this confused since the bombs fell and blew your world to smithereens, and yet somehow you were one of the few to live on.

“Because you have been deemed worthy of a very important role.”

“Deemed by who?” You demand. Your hands are shaking and you curl them into your dress. “What role?”

“As the bride of the New World.”

You shake your head. It’s all you can do now that your voice has fled you. He’s gauging your reaction with an indifference that communicates his lack of compassion for the turmoil he’s thrown you into.

“No,” you somehow manage to choke out. You don’t know what it is you’re rejecting, you don’t understand what he’s talking about, but whatever it is, you don’t want it. “I don’t accept.”

“Which is exactly why you’ve been chosen,” he interrupts spiritlessly. This conversation is a chore for him. “Your resistance is what I need.”

“But why?”

“Because I cannot corrupt what is already corrupted. There is no victory to be gained in debasing someone that wishes to be. You are the only one left that can be groomed for the purpose for which you’ve been chosen. You will resist me up until the point where you can’t, and then you will surrender everything to me. It will be through your sacrifice that His will be done.”

You want to argue. You want to press him to clarify what he means by grooming and His will. You want to pull open the doors and run from him and never look back---Sanctuary be damned. You do none of these things. There’s no point. Not when you know he’s right. His words feel like prophecy, and he speaks them like he’s divined them himself.

“I’d rather die,” you bite out in a last ditch effort to retain control over your will.

“Spare me the dramatics,” he orders, swinging his arms behind his back and tilting his head like a schoolteacher censuring a bad child. “The others have given me enough of them. I’ve already allowed more from you than anyone else, but my tolerance has worn thin. Lie to me again, and there will be consequences.”

That has you riled up. Your fear is momentarily forgotten and you straighten yourself in preparation to argue. “I don’t answer to you.”

“Is that what you think?” There’s danger simmering below the surface of his collected gaze. A confidence that’s vested in the accoutrements of power. He’s being patient with you, because he knows something you don’t and he’s waiting to see when the ball will drop.

You’ve never felt this around a person before. His presence surpasses what would normally be excused as sheer charisma. He fills the room in a way that stirs, as if his life force is enough to gather even the attention of the air. You either allow yourself to be taken in, or you choke on him.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Michael Langdon,” he reminds you. As if you ever forgot. As if you haven’t been hearing it whispered amongst the others for the last day. “And last I checked, I’m not the one being interviewed.”

He’s standing before you again. You’ve backed as far away as you’re physically able, your back now flush with the door. You glare up into his beautiful face like a person determined to admire the sun. “This doesn’t feel like an interview.”

“You’re right,” he cedes softly. “It’d be more appropriate to call this an introduction.”

“Am I supposed to say it’s nice to meet you?”

“Only if you feel that way.”

“I don’t.”

He considers you for a quiet moment. You’ve been staring at his mouth enough tonight that you can now tell when he’s displeased. The fullness of his lips are drawn taught. Not as soft.

You don’t care if you’ve offended him. He deserves to be. His forwardness and bizarre statements have left you frightened, indignant. Most of all, you’re confused. You have a hundred questions whizzing around your head, and you know you won’t get any answers unless you quit fighting and engage with him the way he wants. “‘Bride of the New World’, what does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

“Are you going to keep answering my questions with more questions?”

He smirks, and it’s just shy of a real smile. Your heart murmurs in response, and you hate yourself for it. You hate even more how immediately you flush when you feel his right hand wrap around your left.

“Since you’re so smart, I’ll let you figure it out. You’re the bride,” he begins, and he drags his thumb across your ring finger. “And I’m the New World.”

Surprise comes at you like a baseball bat bludgeoning you in the head. The sensation starts off as a numb tingling in the back of your skull. It collects there until it overflows, spilling down your neck, your spine, through your shoulders, until your entire body is numb with it. You can’t feel the warmth of his hand around yours. You can’t feel your expression. You don’t know what you want to ask, because you’re not sure you’ve accepted what you’ve heard. From the moment you stepped into this room, you’ve felt half-submerged in a fever dream turned nightmare. You decide the best way to wake is to let it run its course.

“The Cooperative decided this?” You ask in a dazed whisper.

The hint of playfulness that’d warmed his gaze is extinguished. You’ve brought up something he doesn’t like talking about. He releases your hand. “No. If The Cooperative had decided this, then it’d be negotiable.”

The resentment that sharpens the bite of his voice almost manages to pull you back to reality. Almost. “You have no say in this either.” It’s a statement, because you know it’s true. The tightness of his mouth confirms it.

And maybe he doesn’t like being read, because he turns away from you and moves to stand before the fireplace.

“If not The Cooperative, then who is forcing me—us—to do this?”

“My Father.”

You laugh. You can’t help it. It bubbles up your throat and slips through your disbelieving smile. This man, the one who strolled in here and took charge as if the world was made for the palm of his hand, was taking orders from his daddy. “Well, maybe you can tell your father that I’m not interested.”

“Come here and tell him yourself.”

You grow quiet and wait for the punchline. It takes several long seconds to pass before you accept that he’s serious. With slow footsteps, you approach his side before the fireplace. He doesn’t even so much as glance at you. His stare is held by the flame. Curious, you also turn your gaze to the fire.

The sensation that shrouds you is overpowering. The darkness that’s introduced doesn’t creep, it charges. You’re plunged into a fear that feels like a bottomless chasm. You’re being eaten, your stomach in your throat. The flames stretch and dance like irritable feelers reaching to pull you in and burn you. You’re a trapped deer staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Tell him,” Langdon invites with collected calm. “Deny him.”

Your words are caught behind what feels like a tennis ball in your throat. Your eyes are locked on the fire. You can’t see anything, but you can feel it. It’s listening, and this terrifies you.

“Say it,” Langdon commands, impatience making his voice harsh.

“I won’t marry you. I refuse.” The fire crackles and you flinch. “Even if it means not going to The Sanctuary.”

“You’ll die,” he reminds you.

“Maybe.” You don’t want to agree. You don’t want to accept the likelihood. “But if it means standing by my ideals, then so be it. I accept the consequences.”

At your words, the fire swells to an inferno. You swear the flames reach the ceiling. You throw up your arms, cowering from the enraged heat that threatens to catch you. You stumble backward against Michael, who’s moved to stand behind you. He catches you by the shoulders and takes your right hand in his.

“Don’t be afraid,” he urges, pulling your hand up to the flame.

“Please, stop!” It’s going to burn you. You jerk your arm in an effort to get free, but his grip on you is too tight. He forces you closer to the hearth. His arm is braced around your waist. He leans forward, pressuring you closer to the dancing flames. You clench your eyes closed as he pulls your hand directly into the fire. A feathery warmth envelops your hand. Surprised, you open your eyes just to confirm that your hand is indeed encased in flame.

“How?” You wonder breathlessly.

Langdon’s grip relaxes around your hand, and his ringed fingers tenderly brush over yours. His chin is against your shoulder, his long hair brushing your neck. “He approves of you.”

You weakly shake your head. He’s not making sense, but you can’t concentrate enough to care. You’re enchanted by the sensation tickling your skin, astonished how it can even be happening. You decide you’re dreaming. You must be. “Is this real?”

“Doesn’t it feel real?” He questions softly. The arm he has curled around your waist tightens and he pulls you further against him until your backside is flush with his groin, your legs pressed against his thighs. He shifts his hips so you can feel his hardness nestled between your legs. His warm lips caress the side of your neck.

“Mr. Langdon--”

“Michael,” he corrects.

“Michael…” His mouth brushes your neck and your objection falters. It feels wonderful. Your eyes slip closed so you can concentrate on the velvety drag of his mouth on your skin. You tuck your teeth into your lip to withhold another shivering sigh. You’re under that strange spell again where your senses are overwhelmed with him, and you just can’t get enough. Like an addict who promises to quit but can’t commit, you tell yourself just a little more. Then you’ll stop. Just a few more moments, and you’ll push him away.

His hand drops to your hip and slips around to the front of your thigh where he grabs, hoisting you further against him until you’re practically sitting in his lap. Your breath hitches. Heat simmers low in your belly. His chest is weighing against you, and you curl your back against him. The action tilts your hips forwards and you can now feel the full press of his manhood between your thighs. Your instinct is to rub yourself against it, but you bite your lip and resist. You know better. “Wait.”

“I want you, Caroline.”

It’s the first time you’ve heard him say your name. He makes it sound beautiful, like poetry, and you’re troubled by how badly you wish to hear it again. “I don’t want this.”

“What did I tell you about lying to me?” He asks with silken menace, his hand dragging low across your abdomen, his teeth nipping your skin in teasing punishment.

Blistering pain explodes around the hand you still have partly in the fire. You scream and pull it out, but the excruciating pain is still there. Michael releases you and you stagger away from him, away from the fireplace, clutching your seared hand.

“What did you do?”

His cerulean gaze is pitiless as he stalks after you. “I warned you. I told you there’d be consequences, and you accepted them. Or was that another lie?”

You grit your teeth. Again, he’s right. You did accept the consequences. You forsook his proffered Sanctuary in order to protect your ideals. You just never imagined that the consequences he threatened would be this inconceivable. The fire had lashed out at you on purpose. You don’t know how it’s possible, but you know it’s the truth. What just happened hadn’t been an accident. His eyes confirm it.

You’re afraid again. You just want to get away, but this time you’re not sure what you’re running from. A few minutes ago, you would’ve claimed you were running from a man. Now, you’re not so sure. Your hand stings and you glance behind him at the fire as an irrational level of terror numbs you from the waist down. When your back hits the door, you scramble for the handle with weak hands. This time, you will be leaving. Your fingers are wedged between the doors, ready to pull them open, when he speaks.

“There is nowhere you can run. He will not yield. Not when he’s decided he wants you,” he says, returning his hands to behind his back in a way that leaves his body language non-threatening. You’re not fooled.

“You’re insane,” you accuse. Your voice quakes and you don’t care. You shake your head as if you can cast off the foreboding that clings to you like a cage. “Leave me alone.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Although he’s steps behind you, somehow his voice is in your ear again, a sultry whisper carrying a dangerous promise. “Your fate has been decided and there is no getting away from it. You don’t have that freedom. You wondered why you survived, and now you have your answer. You’ve been gifted with the one thing that so many waste their lives trying to find.”

His words manage to carry through the buzz of panic in your head to recapture your attention. You meet his eyes so he knows that you’re listening. “What?”

“Purpose.” The word is a sugary drip of honey that lands stale. “You should be happy.”

Despite your distress, you still manage to feel provoked. Happy. That sentiment died along with the rest of the world. You had no one left that cared about you for any reason other than how useful you could be, and this man was clearly no different. Though his motivations were still shrouded in mystery, he made it quite clear that he only viewed you as a tool to be exploited for a grander purpose. A purpose for which he expected you to feel happy about. A purpose which robbed you of choice, of your freedom. You would rather have died with your family.

“Is that what you are? Happy?”

Your words bring him up short, and for the first time all evening his sureness wavers. You can see it in the subtle shift of his expression where his eyes soften beneath the reminder of some unseen injury. Your words have brushed over an unhealed wound and the throb of memory has resurfaced something he’s tried to bury.

For the first time since his arrival at the Outpost, you’ve come face-to-face with the real Michael Langdon, and you feel something inside you resonate with the reawakening of his loss. His quiet speaks volumes, but you are stubborn to ignore the sympathy that unfurls like a sleeping flower in your chest. You haven’t forgotten your fear, and the bloom of feeling you might have for him wilts beneath the overcast of his malicious dominion.

His will is poison, and you’re scared to breathe.

“I want nothing to do with you.” These are the last words you speak before you leave. As you rush back to your room, you clasp a hand around your crucifix and pray that you’re at least better at lying to yourself than you are to him.

Author’s Note: Hello! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. Like many, I fell absolutely head-over-heels in LOVE with Cody Fern this past season of AHS, and I couldn't wait to get my fingers on him (on my keyboard, anyway...). Please let me know what you think of this chapter. This is my first Character/Reader fic, so it's pretty new territory for me. I hope you guys don't mind that I gave 'you' a name (I find myself really thrown off when reading 'Y/N').

Please comment/like/reblog if you liked the chapter! I really appreciate any support.

Until next chapter! AVE SATANAS

[womenofcolor15]

Wendy Williams Directly Calls Out Ex-Husband’s Baby Mother While Promoting Upcoming Biopic + Sneak Peek At Wendy’s ‘Breast Implants’ Scene

Wendy Williams calls out her ex-husband, Kevin Hunter Sr.'s. mistress, Sharina Hudson, during her Hot Topics segment recently while dishing on her upcoming biopic. Also, we’ve got a few sneak peeks at the biopic, including when she got her breast implants, inside…

After Wendy Williams became a Hot Topic on her own show, the daytime diva usually drops subtle hints about her uncoupling from her ex-husband of 21-years, Kevin Hunter Sr. Especially when it came to deets about his alleged longtime mistress, Sharina Hudson. As far as we remember, we're not sure she's ever mentioned her ex's alleged mistress by name ….until now.

During a recent episode of the “Wendy Show,” the 56-year-old outspoke TV personality called out her ex-husband’s alleged mistress. As you know, Kevin cheated on Wendy with Sharina and they have a daughter together, which flipped Wendy’s world upside down. She pulled the trigger on their divorce and the papers were finalized last year.

“I can’t believe how fearless I am,” she said. “And I can’t believe how many people have been drawn into my situation over the 12 years that I’ve been here entertaining you on television. Welcome to ‘Hot Topics’, Sharina Hudson… Getting out of my car, with my money,” she continued, referencing paparaazi pictures of Sharina.

Wendy also spilled tea on Kevin’s daughter’s name and age:

“Good morning, Journey. I think she’ll be three next month, don’t ya know. Good morning, Kelvin. It’s my truth.”

Oop. "Kelvin" must be an inside joke.

Check it at the 4:00-minute mark below:

During an interview on FOX Soul, Wendy said she has no plans to ever meet Kevin's daughter.

“Why would I want to meet her? I don’t know her. And I don’t wanna know her…She’ll want to meet me first though. Do you know where your father was the night that your mother was giving birth? He was with that lady on TV, Miss Wendy. ‘Cause he was with me.”

“I’m paying for my kid to stay in school, he can’t count on his father. I’m paying alimony. I’m paying for him to take care of his new daughter. What do you think he’s using my alimony for? I’m paying for his luxurious lifestyle. He still likes Rolls Royces and the newest MCM bags… either for her or for him just to keep her quiet.”

Peep her interview below:

Wendy’s comments come ahead of her upcoming LIFETIME biopic, “Wendy Williams: The Movie.” Lately, Wendy has been busy on the promo trail to promote her biopic and a documentary that will follow the film.

During a recent interview with “The Jess Cagle Show,” Wendy revealed she new about Kevin’s affair with Sharina right when it began “almost 15 years” ago.

“I’d know about her since almost the beginning,” Williams said, noting Hunter carried out an affair for “almost 15 years” of their 21-year marriage. “I’ve known that Kevin was a serial cheat. The first time I found out was while I was pregnant with our son on bedrest…This girl, wasn’t the only one. She just happens to be the one who kept his baby.”

It’s been rumored Wendy and former radio co-host Charlamagne tha God fell out because he introduced Sharina to Kevin. Charlamagne said he introduced her to Kev in an attempt to help her kick off her modeling career.

In the interview, Wendy said Kevin was a “serial cheater” and that Sharina wasn’t the only one. She’s just the only one who decided to keep his baby. Oh? Sounds like she’s alluding to there being more extramarital babies.

Check it:

  Check flicks of Ciera Payton as Wendy and more from the movie below:

We've also got a few sneak peek clips from the biopic, including the first time Wendy got breast implants, below:

  “Wendy Williams: The Movie” premieres on Saturday, January 30th at 8 pm/7c, immediately followed by the “Wendy Williams: What a Mess!” Documentary at 10 pm/9c. Will you be tuning in?

Photos: Wendy's IG/CR8 Agency

[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2021/01/28/wendy-williams-directly-calls-out-ex-husband%E2%80%99s-baby-mother-while-promoting-upcoming-biopi