#not counting bennett it seems families are not particularly close

[isekyaaa]

Inazuma and Sumeru have such huge problems, Liyue is dealing with their loss of a god, and then there's Mondstadt whose biggest social problem is alcoholism.

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

sinking

request: Helloo! 👋🏼 I really like your stories for Spencer Reid, they’re pretty detailed, creative and really interesting! So.. idk if you’ll see this but I was wondering if you’re willing to create a Reid x Reader where, the reader doesn’t know how to swim and so one day, an unsub who works around waters or something holds reader hostage and then shoves her into the ocean off the dock, in hopes to run away and no one knows she can’t swim besides Reid who jumps after her immediately? Sorry, thank u! :)

for: @tooweirdforyou 

word count: 2,600                                                                                     reading time aprox: 10 mins

masterlist

New York City, the land of naked cowgirls in the middle of Times Square, overpriced souvenirs, and home of Broadway shows. Unfortunately we didn’t have the privilege to be stationed in the heart of Manhattan, since our unsub had decided to execute his activities in the suburban neighborhoods of the city.  

We were seated in a police station in Rockaway. The neighborhood we were in was low on the socioeconomic spectrum, which offered a clue to the profile we’ve built. Me, Spencer, and Morgan sat around in the conference of the station, discussing our frivolous adventures of life as we waited for the rest of the team to head back from their tasks. 

“Wait so you’re telling me that you hate the ocean?” Morgan teased Reid, nudging him in the shoulder in a brotherly manner. “Why is that?” He continued, a smirk making its way onto his lips.

“Do you have any idea how many microbes are in the ocean” Spencer cringed, crunching up his nose in disgust. “In a single liter of seawater alone, there’s approximately a colony of one billion bacteria and ten billion virus-” He explained before getting cut off by Morgan. 

“Oka-okay germ boy, enough of that before you ruin my image of a perfect vacation” 

“Germ boy? That’s new” I interjected in amusement, laughing as Spencer squatted lower in his chair to hide the oncoming blush on his cheeks. “Oh come on Spence- hey everyone’s got some sort of phobia” I reassured, reaching over to ruffle his tangled hair. 

“Well actually, a phobia is-” 

“Don’t ruin it Spence” I joked, watching his lips curl up into an amused smile. 

On cue, the rest of the BAU entered the building in a hurry. Hotch and JJ ran side by side into the office where we held Raymund Celter, a relative of the suspected unsub, for questioning. Me, Spencer, and Morgan looked at each other in confusion, until Emily walked up to us with an embittered expression. 

“What’s up?” Morgan asked, directing the conversation to the suspenseful air that surrounded the four of us. 

Emily sighed, rubbing her forehead in frustration. “Our unsub...isn’t who we thought it was” She admitted, letting her eyes cast over the interrogation room where Hotch and JJ were.

“Wait- but our profile still fits right?” Morgan insisted with his eyebrows furrowed and his forehead etched with lines. 

“Yeah, but we’ve been looking at the wrong type of relationship” She sighed, her defeated expression indicating the exhaustion that all of us shared. “If the unsub isn’t a relative- and we ruled out employees since the victims aren’t necessarily affluent- who else has full invitation to the house, is comfortable enough with the family, and is particularly close to-” She paused mid sentence as all the cogs in our brains were turning until we all settled on the same idea. 

We looked at each other in revelation and it seemed like JJ and Hotch shared a similar idealization as they rushed out of the interrogation room. 

Emily was quick to get Garcia on the phone, witnessing the troubled looks she received from Hotch. “Garcia, can you see if there were any family friends or close neigh-” She requested, although she was abruptly cut off by Hotch informing her of the details that they’ve uncovered. 

“No need for that. The man we’re looking for is Henry Bennett, he grew up next door to the Celter’s residence- Garcia can you look for the last known address” Hotch commanded, chewing the inside of his mouth in anticipation. 

“Uh- we might have a problem, sir” Garcia sheepishly admitted. “Well I’ve looked at his DMV records and there are 4 possible locations where he can reside at” Garcia explained, sending the coordinates to our tablets. 

“Um okay, we’re going to have to split up. JJ and Morgan, Emily’s with Rossi, Reid you’re with me- Y/N are you okay doing this by yourself?” Hotch asked, concerning wavering in his eyes. I nodded in affirmation, already strapping on my gun and heading to the armory for FBI bullet proof vests. 

After everyone had situated themselves in the right attire, it was time to leave in separate cars. That’s when Spencer pulled me aside by the arm, clutching it with a tense hand. “Are you sure you’re fine going alone? I can tell Hot-” He rambled, his words laced with the same concern Hotch expressed previously. 

“Don’t worry germ boy, I think I can handle myself pretty well” I jokingly reassured. Although the lines etched across his forehead didn’t seem to lessen as I tried to lighten up the air. “Listen Spence...I’m going to be okay- I promise I’ll be extra careful” I expressed in the hopes that his doleful expression would vanish. 

He responded with a hesitant nod and a tight lipped smile, pulling me into a warm embrace. He smelled of pumpkin spice candles mixed in with a little sweat, which, oddly, made out to be a comforting aroma. 

“Hey germ boy, If it makes you feel any better about before, I’m absolutely terrified about the ocean too- well all types of large bodies of water” I sheepishly admitted, ruffling the top of his head as I went to open the front door of the SUV. 

“Wait what?” He replied, taken aback by my profession. “You are?” He continued with a smirk on his lips. 

“Yeah, I don’t do well with the whole “deep water and the unknown thing” I expressed, staring at my twiddling thumbs. “I also, kinda, don’t know how to swim either” I blushed, climbing into the front seat of the vehicle, watching Spencer’s grin grow. Finally bidding a final adieu to all of my colleagues, I headed out to the coordinates I had been assigned to. 

-

With my luck, I was sent to a docking area near Rockaway beach. The coordinates that Garcia had sent me were of an old fishing hut near the coastline. I was in constant contact with the rest of the team, communicating whether the unsub was to be found at our locations.

I surveyed the area with my gun close to my chest, pointed down to the floor. My eyes flickered to the water numerous times, feeling my anxiety rile up in my veins as I attempted to keep my focus on finding unsub.  I was essentially on high alert, every creek and every sound triggering my flight or fight response. 

It wasn't until I had gotten to the fishing hut that my anxiety rose to a new high. The small house was located at the end of the dock where the waves crashed against the wooden spokes below the thin bridge. 

Suddenly, I had heard footsteps from the inside of the hut. I raised my gun into a more controlled position before taking a breath, tentatively opening the door to enter. “FBI”  I yelled, feeling my arms shake as the sound of the water amplified, bouncing off the floorboards. “ Henry Bennett”  I called out,  surveying my surroundings. “ I'm from the FBI, I just want to talk” I peaked  around the corner, seeing a slight shadow of a figure at the end of a hallway. 

I radioed in my location, letting the rest of the team know that I had found the unsub. Hotch informed me that the rest of the team we're coming soon, although they might take longer than expected. With a brief goodbye, I finally made myself known, locking eyes with the unsub himself. “Henry Bennett-” I began but was ultimately cut off with his radical spiel. 

“Ge-get away from m-me” He stuttered, a pistol in his right hand pointed directly at me. “Y-you don-don’t understand. NO ONE UNDERSTANDS!” He yelled, his behavior becoming more unstable by the minute. 

“Hey, it's okay-it's okay, I'm here to help” I proceeded to attempt to calm him down as he started to hit his head with his other hand. Although he continued to inflict harm to himself, repeating the same mantra as before. 

“NO ONE UNDERSTANDS! NO ONE UNDERSTANDS! NO ONE-” 

 In the midst of his words I cut him off abruptly,  placing my gun in its holster to indicate peace. “Henry, look at- hey look at me Henry”  I called his attention, halting his actions. “I'm here to help, my team is going to come very soon and they are going to help you” I reassured, creeping closer to disarm him. 

“Ar-are you sure?” He whimpered, still clutching onto the gun with the tight grip.  I placed my hand over his, letting him sink into my touch. 

“Yes Henry, I promise” I softly guaranteed, feeling his grip loosen up as I rubbed his back to  soothe him. Although as I proceeded to take away his gun, he tensed up again looking at me with doleful eyes. 

“Do you really promise?” He asked in desperation, searching my eyes for the truth as I fished out for his weapon. I nodded, giving him an understanding smile as he finally let go of his weapon. I calmed him down, telling him everything was going to be okay, letting him kneel down into the position to apprehend him for his crimes. 

Unfortunately, the team had picked this time to approach the area, the loud sirens engulfing the dock, triggering the unsub to expel in a violent outburst. Suddenly I was pinned to the ground with strong arms, while malicious screams were emitted from the unsub's mouth. 

“You promised! YOU PROMISED!” The unsub repeated, reaching over to retain the gun he had. “You lied to me- JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM!” He sobbed, pressing the cold metal against the back of my forehead. “Now you’re going to pay” He threatened, forcefully pulling me up to my feet and walking me out to the docks. 

The team came into view as we walked out, although my vision was distorted due to the tears that began to appear in the corners of my eyes. “Henry Bennett, FBI, let her go and things will go smoothly” Spencer spoke, maintaining a calm composure. When he locked eyes with my terrified ones, I saw a chink in his armor. 

Despite the small discovery, he had a firm grip on his gun, pointing it directly at the unsub as the rest of the team followed behind him. 

“NO! SHE LIED TO ME!” Henry bellowed, digging the barrel right into the side of my head as he held me by the neck.

“Please Henry, nobody has to be hurt” Emily interjected, trying to extinguish the situation in a peaceful manner. 

“But- but” Henry shook his head, letting his malevolent expression falter for a moment. The team crept closer to where we were positioned. Soon enough, Henry noticed this and for every step forward the team took, he would take a step back. 

It was until we had reached the end of the dock that the team had realized. “Please Henry, we know what happened with Raymund- we know that his parents didn’t approve of your friendship with him-” Emily began, placing her gun in the holster, similar to the tactic performed before. “-or should I say relationship. It was wrong of them to-”

“THEY WERE WRONG! THEY LIED TO ME!” He screamed, the gun in his hand shaking as he loosened his grip. “I loved him and they t-told m-me I couldn’t” He cried, dropping his weapon. 

The team took this as an opportunity to approach Henry, seeing that he was disoriented. But, they soon found out that they were wrong. Henry threw himself into the water with his arm still latched around me. I struggled against his grip, beating against his rib cage as he fought my resistance. 

With a hard blow to the forehead, I was able to swim up to the surface. I glanced at my feet, seeing his unconscious body drift down into the dark abyss. Terrified thoughts raced inside my head, thinking of the possibility of drowning and never being found. I squirmed and kicked, taking in a breath of air as I broke into the surface. 

Suddenly, I was scooped into a pair of arms as I continued to panic and writhe in their grasp. I took chaste breaths, my eyes still covered with water, so I was unable to see who had me. It was until Spencer’s soothing voice reached my ears, that I finally calmed down. 

“Y/N! Y/N! I got you- hey I got you” He repeated, although the affirmation was more for his own state of mind. 

My breathing was still rapid, but my brain had registered that I was going to be okay. I let tears mix in with the sea water on my cheeks as I sobbed in terror. The cold sensation of the water increased my adrenaline by ten fold. I gripped onto Spencer’s vest, similar to a child with their mother, letting his voice soothe me. 

I placed my head in the crook of his neck as he pulled the both of us near a ladder. He pushed me up gently, encouraging me to climb up to the rest of the team. Once I was situated on land, I sat down and burrowed myself into my knees. I was embarrassed, yet grateful that Spencer had saved me, knowing that my severe fear of water was now known to the rest of the team. 

Finally, Spencer knelt down to where I sat, wrapping his long arms around where I had enclosed myself. I let myself lean into his embrace, nuzzling my head into his neck once again as he helped me control my breathing. 

A blanket was placed on the both of us as I refused to get up. Spencer gave a sideways glance to Hotch in the way of saying “give us a moment’. The team had refuted back to their cars in respect to Spencer’s request, leaving me and him on the dock. 

“Than-thank you” I muttered, able to muster up the strength to express my gratitude. 

“It’s nothing Y/N” He reassured, letting the sound of seagulls and the waves permeate the ambiance of the scene. “When...when you told me that you had a fear of the water- and that you can’t swim- seeing you getting pushed into the water nearly gave me a heart attack” He admitted, breathing into the top of my head. 

“I don’t- I don’t know what to do to thank you Spence. I was so- so terrified- and you went to- I just- thank you” I praised, looking up into his worried expression. 

I placed an apprehensive hand on his cheek, getting a better look at the beautiful features that graced his face. I smiled at him, observing how his eyes would flicker from my eyes to my lips. I blushed at the discovery, letting myself lean more into his embrace. 

Slowly, our faces closed in on the distance, our breaths fanning over each other’s faces as we looked at each other for any indication of resistance. Finally our lips collided in a kiss, maintaining slow movements as we melted in each other. 

His lips were supple and tasted like vanilla lip balm, although his movements were gentle and meaningful. He grazed my cheeks with both of his hands, cupping them in his palms as he pulled away. He proceeded to place chaste kisses on my forehead as I let my eyes close at the feeling. 

“I think that was a pretty great way to thank me” He grinned. 

“I guess I’ll just have to keep thanking you for all the times you’ve made my life better” 

-

taglist: @rexorangecouny​ @howdycharlie​

A/N

i hope this is okay, not my best work, but i hope it’s still enjoyable. 

[crazyclouds5281]

Code Olympus

Just an idea for a story. Takes much inspiration from the Webtoon Code Adam, drawn by Atterozen. (An interesting, and very relevant, piece of information is that, in real life, Code Adam is a protocol used to help locate and rescue missing children)

---

It all began when Athena fell in love with a scientist. He, like most of her other fare, was an intelligent blond man, with forest-green eyes, and a voracious need to know. He sought knowledge from all sources, often times going on benders across the internet or through libraries, looking for information on whatever topic he was studying at the time. Most of it focused on human biology, as that is what he researched, but occasionally, it was the oddest thing, such as the mating habits of goats.

They met in a small, niche cafe. Whenever she was feeling particularly restless, Athena would teleport herself to quiet little places like this, seeking conversation and companionship. Her attention was drawn to a man in a corner booth, reading a rather hefty book. A cup of coffee was in his hand, and a plate of pie was pushed off to the side, untouched and unnoticed. The man's lovely green eyes were flicking down the page at an incredible rate, and he was mumbling under his breath so fast, it was a miracle he could even breathe in. His dark-blond hair was shaved close to his scalp in a buzzcut. A white lab coat was slung over the backrest of his bench.

So involved was he in his reading, that he didn't even notice when Athena sat down across from him and ordered a cup of tea from the waitress. For a while, the goddess amused herself with watching the man, but by the time her tea was half-gone, she was feeling a bit impatient.

"Hello," Athena said, startling the man something horrible. He jolted so hard his knee slammed into the underside of the table, and he hissed. He glared at Athena. Now that he was looking up, she could see the dark bags under his eyes, as if he hardly slept.

"Can I help you?" he asked, deep voice rumbling in his chest. Up close, he was a rather physically imposing man. His jaw was square, facial features hard as stone. His shoulders were broad under his solid black button-up, the sleeves rolled back to unveil his thick forearms.

"Yes, perhaps you can," Athena mused demurely.  "You see, I am in desperate need of intelligent conversation, and I was hoping you might be able to provide."

His expression went from angry to flat. "Unfortunately, I am a bit busy at the moment," he said, tapping his book with a thick index finger. "So unless you can explain the intricacies of genetic coding, I'm going to have to ask you to try someone else."

"I happen to be quite knowledgeable about many things."

"Is that so?" he asked skeptically.

"It is. You may quiz me, if you feel it necessary."

The man took that as the invitation it was, and launched a slew of questions, all of which Athena answered without fail. Lacking regular duties to attend to, such as the attention her Father needed to pay to his domain of the sky, the Goddess of Wisdom found herself with quite a bit of free time, which she usually spent reading. As you can imagine, one can read a significant amount in three thousand or so years.

At some point, the man's lips had quirked upwards with a smile. He was enjoying this just as much as Athena. "Well, seems like you weren't joking. I'm Edward Bennett. It's nice to meet you, Miss...?"

"Astrid Graves," she replied, making up the name on the spot.  They shook hands over the table, and Edward glanced at his watch as he drew his hand back.

"Looks like my lunch break is over. I suppose I'll see you around, Miss Graves?"

"Here, tomorrow?"

"I can work with that."

---

Lunch breaks became dinner dates became nights spent together in a loving embrace (in Athena's mindscape, of course. She was still one of the three Virgin Goddesses). A few months later, they were in the place where it all started, when Athena dropped the bomb on Edward.

"I'm pregnant."

Edward blinked. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

"...Huh."

His lack of reaction was a bit worrying. "Is that... Bad?" she asked nervously, a far cry from the immortal warrior she actually was.

The corner of his lip twisted downward. "Hard to say. I'm not really fit to be a father, and I can't afford to cut back on my time in the lab, or I'll lose out on... A good 90% of my grants. Sorry, Astrid, but until I can stabilize my position, you'll have to take care of the kid mostly on your own for now."

Athena nibbled on her lip, wondering how best to break the news to him. Edward was a sharp man, though, and quickly picked up on her unease.

"Not gonna work, huh?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee. He sighed. "Well, we can always hire a nanny or something. Unless you have family who'd be willing to help out a bit?"

Athena shook her head. "That's not the problem. I... Once the child is delivered, I will be forced to leave."

Edward raised a brow. "Forced? You're a grown woman, Astrid. Your parents can't legally make you do anything. They can't tell you not to have a child." It was a bit baffling to him, that such an independent woman was worried about something like this.

"That's not it." She breathed in deeply. "I won't be able to stay, because of the Ancient Laws."

Edward's confusion became more profound. "Ancient? What, like from the Paleozoic Era? he asked with a little chuckle. "C'mon, I've never heard of any law that says a woman has to leave just because she had a child out of wedlock. If you're that worried about it, then let's get married. Doesn't have to be a big ceremony- we can just hold a little celebration down at one of those halls, invite a few people, and call it a night."

Athena sighed. It was never easy to admit that she wasn't mortal to her lovers, because it marked the beginning of the end of their relationship. She'd found, over the years, that the best way to do it was to just rip the bandage off. "We can't get married, either, because I am a goddess."

Edward stared at Athena for a long, silent moment, before he blinked. "Is this- listen, Astrid, it's fine if you're one of those LARPers, or whatever, but if you're gonna do it, at least don't joke about being pregnant." He sounded a bit annoyed, and Athena frowned. The Goddess of Wisdom looked him straight in the eye and, using her divine powers, instilled the fact that what she was saying was the truth directly into his mind. Edward's head jerked back, shocked by the sudden intrusion, before he rubbed his temples. "Oh. Okay. Wow."

"Wow, indeed. As the Greek Goddess Athena, the Ancient Laws dictate that I, and the other gods, cannot stay with mortals for long periods of time, and we cannot, under any circumstances, interfere in the lives of our demigod children. The Heroes must be left to grow on their own."

"And, all these other Olympian gods, they just, what- go around, hooking up with people, and then leaving them with the children?"

"Not all. Artemis and Hestia have sworn to remain virgins, while Hera will never couple with a mortal. My Father, Zeus, and his brothers, Poseidon and Hades, have also sworn to no longer have demigod children."

Edward stared at her wide-eyed, astounded that she could possibly say something so insane with a straight face. "So, that's it? Here's a kid, have fun? I legitimately cannot take care of a child right now. Are you sure you can't stay for at least a few years, at least until I can get a stable job?"

Athena deflated. "I'm afraid I cannot. Should I linger more than a few days after the child's birth, the consequences will be most severe. Since I am a goddess, they will fall directly on our child."

Edward's gaze was boring a hole into the table. "Fine. Whatever. When's the kid due?"

"Next week. Pregnancy for a goddess is much quicker than a mortal woman." She also refrained from mentioning that the child would be popping out of her head. That was just a bit too much for the poor man.

Edward's glare hardened. "That's barely any time at all," he seethed, "What am I supposed to do about my job?"

"You're a smart man. I'm sure you'll figure something out," Athena said encouragingly. Unfortunately for her, it sounded rather patronizing to the man.

"Right," Edward hissed, standing abruptly. He pulled out his wallet and slapped a few bills on the table, barely bothering to count the amount. "I need time to think." With that, the man stormed out the cafe, leaving the pensive goddess to her own thoughts.

---

This is impossible. I need this job- I don't have time to take care of a friggin' kid! Crazy damned woman. How many other guys has she trapped like this? How many other people have the rest of her family trapped? So many people, raising a kid they can't take care of, just because some god or goddess wanted to mess around with one of us puny mortals. What a fucking mess...

Wait.

That bastard, Martin, said that as long as you can show something worthwhile, it doesn't matter how long you're in the lab. And, if you manage to start a project that generates enough interest from the higher-ups, you can pretty much retire and live off the royalties, even if you're a beginner. Would explain why I haven't seen him around since he invented a goddamn element.

How worthwhile would a demigod be?

[xxsovereignsarayaxx]

Elizabeth Mikealson - What If? (Chapter 3)

Authors Note: Hope everyone is enjoying the series so far! Continue the story or choose another fic here! Feedback would be lovely it helps fuel my creative sparks. xoxo Word Count: 4557 Warnings: None.

We were sat in Jonas's residence seems that after we departed yesterday the male witch had been busy and collected a few personal things from the Gilbert doppelganger. 

"How does this spell work?" Elijah asks as Jonas placed them onto a wooden table he looks up at us. 

"Give me your hand, both of you." Elijah and I held our hands out, our palms facing upwards. 

Jonas had a silver knife in his hand, I studied the intricate detail on the handle when I didn't realise he had sliced open my palm along with Elijah's. 

"And now place it here." Jonas says as he motions towards the photo of Elena in her cheerleading uniform. 

We both held the photo. 

"And now hold my hand." Jonas explains. 

With our free hand we both held onto one of Jonas' hands. "Close your eyes. Relax your mind. And look for her." We did as we were told and I focused my mind to find the girl and then he proceeded to chant the Latin spell, images were coming in and out of my mind. To where I see an image to which is familiar, I see Elena staring out of a window, she looks at me and Elijah confused and she turns around to see that no one is in the room with her she does this again and then we were gone. Elijah had opened his eyes and the connection was broken. My own eyes flutter open. 

"You saw her didn't you?" Jonas asks us. Elijah nodded as he proceeded to put on his coat and also helps me into mine. 

"I know exactly she is." Elijah announces. He gently takes my hand and we leave and head back to Richmond.

"There's nothing here for you." A familiar voice shouted. 

Myself and Elijah approached up to the three men in front of us, I quickly remove my jacket and hand it to Elijah and thrust my hand into the chest of one man, he falls to the ground with a thud and clutch his heart. 

"Oppps sorry." I say sarcastically dropping the heart to the floor. 

Elijah then hands me back my jacket which I take with my free clean hand, there was no way I was getting blood on this. And he speeds over to the two remaining vampires I carefully step over the body, my heels click on the laminate flooring. Rose immediately clocks us and speeds out of the door. 

"I killed you, you were dead." One said sounding shocked. 

"For centuries now." Elijah replied with his dry sense of humor. 

"And you ran away." He says pointing to me. 

"Darling I had glass in my face, I couldn't see and I didn't particularly want to have a stake driven through my heart like you did my poor husband." I reply crossing my arms in the process. 

"Who are you?" Elijah and one of the men said in unison. 

"I'm Elijah this is Elizabeth my wife." Elijah says to him. 

"We were gonna bring her to you, for Klaus. She's the doppelganger I don't know how she exists, but she does. Klaus will want to see her." The vampire says. I walk up to the stranger and look him in the eyes. 

"Does anyone else know that your here?" I ask sweetly. 

"No." He says to me. 

"Perfect, Elijah darling would you do the honors?" I say. With that Elijah plunges his arms into both of the stranger vampires and rips there hearts out the bodies fall to ground with a loud thud. The black haired and blue eyed vampire gets ready to fight us but we had no intentions to fight today and with the simple turn on our heels we sped away.

We arrived back at Jonas' home, on the way back he had phoned us to say that the Bennett witch was channeling his son Luka and he had used up too much of his magic and was exhausted. We had gotten back before Jonas and so I was sat in the couch while Elijah looked into the night stood by the window. I heard the front door open. 

"How is Luka?" I ask quietly. 

"He's asleep." Jonas replies. I let out a small smile and nod at him. 

"Your shadow spell was successful. We was able to track that girl. However, we did have a little run in with one of the brothers that killed me." Elijah says softly, turning to face the witch. 

"I assume he didn't live to tell about it." Jonas says. 

"No we spared him, I saw his expression Jonas, Damon Salvatore would die before he would let anything happen to her. Both brothers would. Myself and Elijah agreed that Elena will be kept safe." I tell him. 

I stand up from the couch and brush the forming creases from my skinny jeans. 

"We best be going, let you settle down for the night. Good night Jonas, thank you for assistance." I say quietly. 

Elijah takes note and collects his coat and put it other his arm, he walks up to Jonas and shakes his hand. I follow behind and kiss his cheek and with that we left into the night.

"So do tell me, how is getting friendly with the historic society of Mystic Falls going to get us closer to the doppelganger?" I whisper. 

We were currently stood inside the Gilbert residence while Jenna was rummaging through the downstairs closet. 

"You'll see." Elijah whispers after that statement someone walks down the stairs. 

Breathing in I can smell its her, the doppelganger. 

"Hey, what are you doing?" She asks her aunt. 

"Perfect timing." she replies. Jenna hands Elena a large box filled with dusty smelly books, maps and papers. 

"What is this stuff?" Elena inquires. 

"Your mom's files from the Historical Society. I got roped into helping Mrs. Lockwood and by roped, I mean very excited to participate." Jenna replies. 

Jenna shuts the door to the closet and that is where our eyes meet, I smile and Elena takes a small step backwards she looks scared. 

"Hi, I'm Elizabeth and this is my husband Elijah, it's lovely to meet you" I say sweetly. 

"Their both in town doing research on Mystic Falls." Jenna says to her niece. 

Elijah steps forward to Elena. "It's a pleasure." As they shake hands. 

"So you're welcome to stay here and rummage through this stuff or Elena and I could help you load it into your car." Jenna say to break the tension. 

"How about I arrange to have someone come collect it from you tomorrow?" I reply. 

"Also a good plan." Jenna says 

"I do believe that great plans come from the female species" I say with a laugh. Jenna and myself share a small giggle, she was really nice. Hopefully she wouldn't get too caught up in this supernatural nonsense. 

"Thank you so much for inviting us into your home, Jenna and Elena." Elijah says with a small smile. And with that we turned to leave. Jenna goes back to whatever she was doing before. 

"I hope to see you again sometime soon." Elijah adds 

"Thank you again Jenna." I call out to her. 

"Anytime." She shouts from the kitchen. Elena darts up the stairs and that's when myself and Elijah also sped up them. She knocked on a bedroom door which  was guessing belonged to her younger brother Jeremy. Elijah gently grabbed her wrist and signals by holding a finger to his lips to not mentioned that he nor myself were present. 

"What is it?" The younger Gilbert asked. 

"Jenna was just asking me to get you to help her with the boxes." She says to her brother. 

"Okay" He says and leaves. 

"A wise choice." Elijah says to her. 

"What do you both want?" She asks us sounding frightened. 

"We just came to talk." I say softly to try and re-assure her. He gets us to follow her to her room. She sits on her bed, I take a seat at the edge giving her plenty of room and Elijah stands near the closed door. 

"Please forgive the intrusion, we mean your family no harm." I say to break the ice. 

"Why did you kill those vampires when they tried to take me?" She asks us. 

"Because we didn't want you to be taken. Klaus is the most feared and hated of the Originals, but those that fear him are desperate for his approval. If word gets out that the doppelganger exists, there'll be a line of vampires eager to take you to him and we can't have that." Elijah says to her. 

"Isn't that exactly what you're trying to do?" She replies. 

"Our goal isn't to break the curse Elena." I say, offering a warm smile. 

"So what is your goal?"

"Klaus's obsession has made him paranoid. He's a recluse. He trusts only those in his immediate circle." Elijah says to her.

"Like you?" I shake my head at her 

"No, not anymore" Elena stands up from the bed and starts to pace a little. 

"You don't know where he is, do you? So you're trying to use me to draw him out." She says sounding a little angry. 

"Well, to do that I need you to stay put and stop trying to get yourself killed." Elijah says sarcastically. I roll my eyes at husband, this talk is going to go nowhere if I don't say something quickly. 

"How do I know you're both telling the truth?" She says sounding angrier. I quickly stand up to face her. 

"I won't sugarcoat this but sweetheart, if myself and Elijah wasn't being truthful your family would be torn to shreds by now and we would be taking you to Klaus this very moment, myself and Elijah want to offer you a deal." I tell her. 

"What kind of deal?" She asks me. 

"Don't do anything Elena, live your life stop fighting and then when the time is right we will lure out Klaus and we will make sure your friends are protected" I say to her, I walk over to Elijah and reach out to hold his hand. I gave it a gentle squeeze. 

"And then what?" She asks us. 

"Then I will kill him." Elijah says proudly. 

"Just like that?" Elena asks. 

"Just like that, I'm a man of my word Elena. When I make a deal. I keep a deal." Elijah replies. 

"How are you gonna be able to keep everybody safe?" She asks us once more. 

"I notice you have a friend. Bonnie, is it? She seems to possess the gift of magic. We have friends with similar gifts." Elijah tells her. I noticed that Elijah has gotten back on track with this negotiation so there was no need for any further input. 

"You know witches?"  

"Together, we can protect everybody that matters to you. So, do we have a deal?" Elijah asks her. 

"I need you to do one more thing for me." She says to us. I raise my eyebrow. 

This girl had guts I like it.

"When she asked us for a favor I didn't realise it would be a rescue mission" I say with a chuckle. 

"Well we did promise to protect her friends so we are honoring our side of the deal" Elijah tells me, we was walking towards the tomb under Fells Church. On the way I had phoned and explained to Jonas we needed the barrier lifted to retrieve Elena's boyfriend. The door to the tomb opened and we saw Katerina and Stefan. 

"Katerina" I say to acknowledge her. 

"Elijah? Elizabeth?" She says frightened. 

"Good evening Katerina. Thank you for having the sense to be frightened." Elijah says to her. 

"Stefan your release has been requested" He adds. 

"What? By Who?" Stefan asks dumbfounded. 

"Miss Gilbert drives a hard bargain. However we arranged a peaceful agreement." I tell him smiling. Elijah gestures for Stefan to leave the tomb, 

"I can't." He says to us. 

"You can, we've had the spell lifted." Stefan then slowly walks out Katerina tries to leave also but is stopped in her tracks. I smile at Stefan. 

"Elena will be able to tell you the details for our arrangement, if she keeps her end of the bargain so will we." I say to him and with that he leaves. While I was speaking to Stefan, Elijah was compelling Katerina to stay put until Klaus comes. 

"Stefan! Please don't let him leave me here." She begs. 

"Goodbye Katherine." Stefan says bluntly and walks away. Myself and Elijah watched Stefan walk up the stairs and leave the underground compartment. 

"Good Night Katerina." Elijah and I say as he closes the door to the tomb locking Katerina away like a caged animal.

A few days had passed and we had spent the time in a B&B close to town, Elijah had some errands and loose ends to sort out so I stayed behind to work on my own I had gotten in touch with Penelope to see if she could work her magic to try and help us track down any trace of Klaus to which she could not. I was laid on the bed on my front in just one Elijah's shirts. I had my laptop out and my legs dangled from the edge of the bed while I furiously typed on the keyboard. I heard the door open and close and Elijah had walked into the bedroom and gently stroked his hands over my back and legs. I quietly moaned at the sense of his touch and he proceeded to massage my body, being irritated from the information I was trying to get made me very tense. 

"How about getting a change of atmosphere?" Elijah asks as his hands made his way to my shoulders, rubbing the aching muscles in circles. 

"Hmmmm, yes I could do with a change. What did you have in mind?" I ask him. 

"Well we have been invited to The Historical Society's Tea Party, and to make sure we keep good appearances we should make the effort to attend." He tells me. 

"What time does it start?" I reply. 

"I do believe we have a couple of hours free before we need to go." He says to me in a seductive tone.

I smirk to myself and bite my bottom lip. I rush up and pin Elijah to the wall, we kiss each other passionately taking turns to plant kisses down each others necks. Elijah flips me around so it is now him who has me against the wall and I jump up and wrap my legs around his waist. I run my hands up and down his body and moans are left from both of our mouths. 

"How about we continue where we left off?" He breathes. I nodded eagerly and flick my long hair to one side of my neck and I see Elijah's veins pop from under his eyes and see his fangs protrude from his gums. He gently grazes his fangs over my neck just like before and a sense of euphoria washes through my body. 

As his fangs sink into my skin I was in pure bliss 'blood sharing' was the most intimate act a vampire could share with another. Elijah removes his fangs from my neck and with blood stained lips he crashes them into my own. We part and then I proceed to bite him, drinking his blood was one of the best feelings, it tasted delicious and I did sometimes struggle to stop. But as the blood of my husband fell down my gullet memories of the two of us flooded into my mind.

"If you ever, EVER touch me or even come anywhere near me again Elijah I will rip your heart out!" I shouted at him tears flooded my eyes and all I saw was the smirk on the face of the witch Celeste Dubios. 

I gather up the skirts of my dress and brush past her. Elijah tries to stop me but I turn and glare at him. 

"You are no man of honor, unlike you I keep my promises! Now unless Miss Dubios over there wishes to see me carry out my threat, I suggest you allow me to pass."  I growl at him.

                                              __________________

"I never wanted you to be daggered brother but you were too much of a bad influence to Niklaus. I've grown too attached to Marcellus because I was using him as a substitute as I pushed her away, my wife I feel like I am lost without her. I have not the faintest idea on where she could be. I just hope that one day she will love me again. But I fear that the twisted ways of Celeste ruined our marriage and I was blind to see that then but I see that now."

                                              __________________

I pulled away from Elijah tears in both of our eyes, he gently wipes my eyes with his thumb and kisses me once more on the lips it wasn't lust nor passion but it was just full of love. "I love you." He tells me. He leans his forehead against my own and I let out a small sniffle. 

"I love you too." we stay like that for a few moments until I get up and usher Elijah into the bathroom. "Have a shower and while you do that, I shall sort out a new suit and a dress for myself for this so called 'tea party' " I say to him with one of my signature big smiles. 

I close the bathroom door and take a long and deep breath. I stride over to the wardrobe and pick out a clean suit for Elijah, a black suit and a dark blue shirt would go well and I selected a pair of black high waist-ed flared trousers with a white shirt and ladies suit jacket and dress scarf to match. 

I was not really in the mood to wear a dress and the ones I had where not quite appropriate - far too formal. Elijah had come out of the shower, in just a towel around his middle. I adored the moments where he slipped out of his 'noble and proper' mindset and just let loose a little. I swapped places and quickly took a shower, the hot water was welcomed on my skin, feeling the bad memories just drain away.

We arrived at the Lockwood Mansion in plenty of time, it had already started but we wasn't too late. Mrs Lockwood spotted us and walked over to us. 

"Elijah, so great you could make it. Is this your lovely wife you mentioned before?" Carol says to us, Elijah had his arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer to him. 

"Yes it is, Elizabeth this is Carol Lockwood." Elijah says as he introduced us, I gently shake her hand. 

"Its a pleasure to meet you Mrs Lockwood, I look forward to working with you." I smile. 

"So, have you both spent much time in Richmond for your book? There's such a wealth of history there." Carol asks. 

"Well no, we're focusing mostly on the smaller regions of Virginia. Lots of research. Strictly academic." Elijah tells her. 

"Oh that is fascinating." Carol says back nodding her head slightly. 

"We've been to Richmond a handful of times, it truly is a magnificent place but the smaller towns are more like home, right Elijah?" I say to Carol, trying to keep up with the small talk. 

"Absolutely." Elijah agrees with me, while we were talking I heard the familiar voice of the eldest Salvatore brother, I gently squeeze Elijah's hand to let him know of Damon's presence. 

"Damon." Carol says to her friend has she approaches us and plants a quick kiss to her cheek.  

"Elijah, Elizabeth, I want you both to meet Damon Salvatore. His family is one of Mystic Falls' founding families." She informs us. 

"Hmmm, pleasure to meet you both." Damon says to us as he gently lifts up my free hand and places a kiss to my hand and then shakes Elijah's hand. I plaster a large fake smile on my face, I was not happy in the slightest of what just happened, and I presumed that Elijah was furious. 

"No pleasure is mine." Elijah says as he still has a firm grip on the Salvatore's hand and lets go. We departed and walked around the party a little taking in the odd conversation with the locals.

After about twenty minutes Damon requests our presence in the study. 

"What can we do for you Damon?" Elijah asks. 

"I was hoping to have a word." He replies. 

"And where is Elena?" I ask bitterly. 

"Safe with Stefan. They're laying low, you know, bit of a werewolf problem." Damon says. 

"Oh yes we heard about that." Elijah says sarcastically. 

"I'm sure the pair of you did since it was your witch that saved the day." Damon replies in equal sarcasm. 

"You are welcome by the way." I snap. Damon walks around to sit on the desk. 

"Which adds to my confusion on exactly why you're here." 

To be honest I was irritated the moment Damon approached us and I walked over to him. 

"Why don't you just stay focused on keeping Elena safe and leave the rest to us." I say to him tapping his cheek with my hand, and with that I turn and head back over to Elijah who was already stood at the door waiting for me. Damon however has other plans and speeds over to block my path to Elijah. 

"Not good enough." He says to me. I hear Elijah growl behind him. 

"Don't worry Elijah I have this, why not head back into the party and I'll join you in a moment." I say sweetly. I gave Elijah a re-assuring smile and he does as I asked and heads out of the study. 

I look back at Damon, now it was time to put him in his place. I grabbed Damon by his throat and pin him to the nearby wall, I glare at him in retaliation Damon grabs my throat and to which was a very poor choice for him, using my free hand I grab it and easily remove it from my throat, I bend it back far enough making sure to snap the bone but also crush it with my tight grip. I let him go but making sure to push him away with enough force, giving him the hint not to try anything else so foolish. 

"You young vampires are so arrogant, how dare you come in here and not only challenge me, but also an original vampire. Show some respect!" I threatened. 

Damon is still recovering from the damage I had inflicted, he grabs hold of his broken wrist and hand. "You or your deranged husband can't kill me, its not part of the deal." Damon laughed. 

I sent him a glare and just slapped his around the face. "Enough!" I shouted, I spotted a pencil that was laying on the desk I grabbed it and stab him in the neck, he shouts out in pain as I make sure to dig it in deep. 

Damon leans on the desk for support as he pulls the pencil from his neck. He hisses in pain and the puts his hand over the wound that is bleeding rather badly. I hand him my scarf and he hesitantly takes it to help reduce the bleeding as he heals. I step over to him and lean in to his ear. 

"Elijah is an Original, I am older and stronger then you, so it would be wise not to do anything stupid. But know this the moment you cease to be of use either myself or my husband your dead. So you should listen to what Elijah and I say to you, do your job and keep Miss Gilbert safe" I whisper. 

I turn on my heel and head out of the study and over to Elijah who was waiting patiently for me. "I do believe that our work is done here, shall we head off?" I say sweetly giving Elijah a kiss.

As we left the Tea Party Elijah says to me. "I heard what you said to Damon." 

I playfully roll my eyes. "You my dear where meant to, we both know that I can handle myself with situations like that. And I rather enjoy them." I tease. 

"So, I failed to mention this to you earlier but Penelope called this morning while you were out, seems like the werewolves are planning something, there has been an increase of them arriving over the last few days." I add. 

"Hmmmm, well the last encounter they had with Damon was not very pleasant, they want the moonstone as well. Perhaps we give it to them?" Elijah replies to me. A smile forms not only on his face but also my own, which meant that more hearts were going to be dropped tonight.

"Where is the moonstone?" A voice asked it had to be a wolf, nobody else smells that bad. 

"Get over it, honey. You're never gonna get it." Damon says in between deep breaths. Myself and Elijah walk into the room. 

"Looking for this?" Elijah says holding up the moonstone for everyone to see. 

Elijah also made sure he was the first to enter, a werewolf bite to him would be no big deal a few days bed rest and whole lots of sweating but for me? Well a bite would bring my life to a halt. One of the wolves tries and rushes over to grab the stone from Elijah but because Elijah was an original so naturally being faster and stronger he plunges his arm into the wolfs chest and rips out his heart, the body dropping to the floor with a thud. Two more wolves rush over to avenge their fallen friend but also led them to a untimely demise. The female wolf rushes past us and escapes before she is killed. Knowing that there was no more threats in the house I stride over to the cowering wolf who was hiding behind his jacket, I pick him up and I flash my fangs at him the veins raise up underneath my eyes. 

"What about you buttercup? Do you wish to take a shot? Yes? No? Yes? Where is the girl?" I threaten, as I drop the wolf back to the floor with a thud, he is still too petrified to move. 

"I don't know." Damon says as he tries to look around but his mobility is restricted due to the weird collar around his neck. 

"It doesn't really matter." Elijah finishes. Elijah punches the cowering wolf and he falls to the floor, he then goes to Damon and rips him free from the chains that held him to a chair. 

"So you realize this is the third time we've saved your life now?" He says with a smirk. Damon doesn't say anything to us and with out business finished we turned and headed off back to our make-shift home. 

"Darling this time it was all you." I say to my husband as I shut the door behind us.

[softboywriting]

Happily Ever After | Soulmate AU | Shawn Mendes

A/N: Soulmate AU - Soulmates are born with matching birthmarks and when they are close to each other the birthmarks ache and burn until you touch your soulmate. 

Word Count: 11k

| Masterlist | “Ah shit!” you cry out as you drop the muffins you were carrying on the counter. You hold your hand, rubbing your thumb over the birthmark on the back of your hand. Ernie, your boss, pops his head out from the swinging door to the back room to see if you’re okay. You hold your hand up and shake your head. “It’s just hurting again.”

“You know that means your soulmate is around here,” Erie teases, a playful smile on his face. He steps past you to survey the small dining area in front of the bakery cases. He hums, tapping his chin with one flour covered finger as he eyes the customers. There are only three of them in the sitting area. A couple of elderly ladies who came in every couple days to gossip, a older man with a long beard that he was picking crumbs out of.

“I really don’t think it’s one of our customers,” you chuckle as you gather the muffins and turn to put them on the glass display stand on the counter. You place them one by one in a circle and then stack the last three on top before putting the cloche over them. “Besides, it always happens so fast that I’m starting to think it’s just a nerve or something.”

“No no,” Ernie protests, waving his flour covered hands at you. “Soulmate marks don’t lie. That guy...or girl, whatever, it out there passing this shop every day. One day you’re going to meet them.”

“I sure hope so,” you laugh and start to straighten up the large display case attached to the front counter. “I’m real tired of being single.” You squat down and Ernie puts his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. “I know, you want me to be happy, but maybe it just isn’t in the cards for me y’know? I’ll just take over the bakery in a few months and live my life as a lonely bakery lady.”

Ernie lets out a defiant grunt. “Don’t talk like that kid. You’re still very young, besides, all you have to do is find out which person it is that passes the shop everyday. You’re practically halfway to happily ever after. Besides, you don’t have to take the bakery. I can sell it to someone else.”

You look up and Ernie is beaming down at you. You put your hand over his on your shoulder and smile back. “You know I can’t let you do that. I was practically raised in this place, but thank you for having faith in my soulmate even when I don’t.”

“You’re like a daughter to me. How could I do anything less?” he says softly and turns to go back through the swinging door to the back room.

Your hand aches again, throbbing like you’d been burned by one of the sheet pans. It was an ache you knew all too well, but this one couldn’t be cured by some ice and aloe vera gel. It was particularly bad today too. You sigh, sliding the display case door closed as you stand up. The second you’re upright you see a guy standing outside the front door. He’s on the phone, pacing back and forth while talking. Quickly, you scan the windows of the shop, looking for anyone else that may be standing around. There is absolutely nobody. The ache in your hand gets worse and you reach for the damp rag on the shelf below the counter. It’s not much but it feels like it takes the edge off a bit as you press it to your hand.

The guy turns around, looking into the shop and you swear to god your heart stops. He is looking right at you, a confused expression on his face as he says something to the person on the phone. Quickly he hangs up, pocketing the phone as he walks into the bakery and up to the counter. You’re sure your heart is beating out of your chest like in the cartoons. It had to be obvious, he had to know too. Wait, why wasn’t he holding his hand like it hurt? Was his not burning too? Was he not the one?

“I need to order a dozen muffins please,” he says in the loveliest voice you’ve ever heard.

You stare at him, dumbfounded as if he had spoken some language from another planet. “Huh?” you ask quietly, eyes locked on his way too pink lips. Why were they like that? Was he biting them? They didn’t look chapped. Who had lips that pink? Why did he have to look so good? Why was he smiling? Oh god he’s smiling. His teeth are gorgeous. Why is he smiling like that?

“I need a dozen muffins to go?” he asks, tilting his head a bit. He glances down at your name tag and raises his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

Ernie pops his head out of the swinging door to ask you something and is met with the sight of you holding your hand in the rag and Good Looking staring at you like there was egg on your face. “Can I help you sir?” Ernie smiles and walks over, pushing you aside gently to take the order of the man before you.

“Yeah,” the guys says, eyes glancing over to where you’ve scooted aside to hide behind the small drink refrigerator on the counter, that playful smile still pulling up the corners of his mouth. “I was looking to get a dozen muffins to go. A variety is fine, no lemon please.”

“Of course!” Ernie cheers, eagerly moving to the display case and readying one of the foldable take out boxes. He gathers a dozen plus a couple cookies for good measure. “Here you are, I threw in a few cookies for the trouble. They’re our newest item.” He punches in the dozen cost on the register and glances over at you, eyes going to your hand that you’ve shoved into your apron pocket.

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Good Looking says with eyes still glued to you. It makes your heart weak and your hand ache something fierce.

“They’re this little lady’s own recipe. She’s got a good taste for new flavors. Don’t ya?” Ernie says, trying to coax you out of your corner. He seems to have picked up that this wasn’t your run of the mill cute guy meltdown because you’re literally favoring your hand as if it had been cut off at the wrist and you’re as red as a tomato.

“Yeah, good taste,” you nod eagerly and glue your eyes to the floor.

“Thank you,” Good Looking chuckles, grabbing his box off the counter and turning to leave.

“Oh!” Ernie calls out and you give him a pleading look, like just let the guy leave already. “If you leave a business card in our jar we pick an office each Friday and cater three dozen cookies free.”

“Hmm.” Good Looking sets the box down on the counter and pulls out his wallet. You notice a sparrow tattoo on his hand right where a birthmark that would match yours would be. Maybe he wasn’t the one making your hand hurt, maybe it was a coincidence and the real person was just outside the building where you couldn’t see. Why would somone get a tattoo over their birthmark? No...no it had to be him. “Here we go.” He pulls out a white card and places it in the little mason jar on the counter.

“Good luck! Have a good day!” Ernie smiles and Good Looking leaves, the bell over the door dinging as it closes. The second he’s out of sight Ernie rounds on you. “That was him wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know! I thought it was and he was so good looking I just panicked! He didn’t seem phased though, and he has a tattoo on his his hand right where the birthmark should be. It can’t be him! It just can’t be!”

“No no no, it’s him. Your hand stopped hurting yet?” He looks down and you pull it from your apron and pull the rag away. It felt normal again. Shit. Ernie was right, your gut, was right. “It has, hasn’t it?”

You nod and Ernie reaches for the jar with the business cards in it. There are only three and only two of them are white. He hands them both to you and you look down at them.

One says:

Jacob Bennett

Bennett Tailor and Fitting

The other says:

Shawn Mendes

CEO

Mendes and Davenport Technologies

“Which one is it?” you ask, eyes wide. You were not going to cold call either of these guys and ask them if their hand was burning in the middle of a bakery. What kind of weirdo would do that. “Ernie how am I supposed to know which one of these was that guy?”

Ernie shrugs. “I guess we have two winners for the weekly drawing?” A smile spreads across his face and he laughs. “You’ll be hand delivering both! That way you know which one it is when you drop off the cookies!”

“No! I can’t!”

“You can and will! You have to meet your soulmate kid, I’ll be damned if I don’t do all I can to help you now that we have it narrowed down. Friday you are taking three dozen cookies to Mr. Bennett and Mr. Mendes and we will have our answer.”

You groan, leaning your head back against the wall and sinking down a bit. “I need a break,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing heavily.

“Clean up table three and you can take a walk and clear your head alright?” Ernie offers and you nod.

While gathering the mug and plate off table three you overhear the two older ladies, Betty and Mae, who always came in to gossip every Wednesday over tea and cakes. Usually you try not to eavesdrop but you can’t help it this time because the name Mendes comes up, the name on the business card in your apron pocket.

“Haven’t you heard? Manny Mendes has fallen ill. They are really worried this time, the pneumonia is pretty bad,” Mae says over a mouth full of cheese danish.

“Oh yes, their whole family must be just a mess. I heard their boy has come back from New York to be with him, leaving the company with his partner for the time. I wouldn’t trust Nash Davenport alone with a dog let alone a whole company for any amount of time.”

Mae lets out a laugh and sips her tea. “Nash never did seem like a good boy. Didn’t he used to chase that little girl down the block, oh what was her name, Caiti? Yeah, he was a terror.”

“Yes, that was Nash. Shawn was the only boy who grew up with a good head on his shoulders. I swear Manny and Karen got blessed with that boy. Is he married yet?”

“Heavens no. I heard he hasn’t found a soulmate, poor boy will be nearly twenty five this year. It’s so unusual isn’t it?”

Betty nods eagerly. “Oh yeah, most soulmates are together by the time they’re twenty if not earlier. Kids these days though, they leave their homes and go see the world. Did you know nearly 80% of soulmates are born and raised in the same towns?”

You nearly drop the mug you have balanced on the plate as you wipe down the table with a rag from your apron. The two ladies look over at you and smile. “Ah, sorry, just a little clumsy today,” you chuckle, holding up the dishware for emphasis.

“It’s that boy who came in isn’t it?” Betty asks with a knowing smile.

“Who?” you ask, playing dumb. You know better than to give these chatty cathys anything to talk about. As soon as you did you would be the talk of the town and that was the last thing you needed.

“Oh come off it, you know just who we mean!” Mae giggles. “Tall, handsome, left his card in your little cup. That boy had eyes for you through the door!”

Betty reaches over and playfully whacks Mae’s arm. “Oh Mae! You’re going to embarrass the poor girl.”

You laugh nervously and offer to bring them more tea and fresh danishes, they insist and you hurry to the back to get their new order. As soon as you deliver them fresh from the oven danishes and a fresh kettle of tea you’re out the door, announcing to Ernie that you were going to take a short walk and get some air.

You take a seat on the bench just outside the shop and pull the business cards from your apron. You slip Jacob Bennett’s back in and turn Shawn Mendes’ over in your fingers. One side has a pattern embossed on it with a logo that says MD TECH in dark blue lettering. MD... Mendes and Davenport. You flip it back over and look at the name and info below. Sure enough, the address listed is in New York City.

“Well shit,” you mutter, shaking your head and tucking the card away. Either your soulmate was a local tailor or CEO of one of the largest medical equipment companies in North America. You bring your hands up to your face and groan. “I swear to god you better be a tailor,” you say, looking at the light birthmark between your thumb and forefinger. “I am not moving to New York for no man, no siree.” In your heart you knew he wasn’t the tailor though. You would have crossed paths before now if he was.

The old guy with crumbs in his beard leaves, waving politely to you as he passes. You glance back into the shop and see Mae and Betty gigging amongst themselves still. Ernie would be fine on his own for a few more minutes. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the window. “How did my life get this complicated?”

________________________

Friday morning you’re dreading going to work. You’ve hit your alarm three times now and this time you have to get up. Ernie would know you were faking if you called in sick today of all days. You get up and head to the shower, hurrying through to get dressed and out the door as soon as possible. You skip breakfast, you could always have something at the shop if you got hungry. Right now you weren’t hungry in the slightest. Nerves were eating you up.

As soon as you get to the bakery, Ernie is already there and the door is unlocked although the closed sign is still flipped over. You lock your bike to the rack outside and go in and put your purse away with your water bottle. You push open the door to the back and find Ernie is boxing up a couple dozen of chocolate chip cookies.

“Morning,” you say dully as you reach for a warm biscuit on a nearby tray. “Are those for Mr. Mendes or Mr. Bennett?”

“They’re actually for The Beanery. I haven’t called either of the guys yet, the address on Mr.Mendes’ card is in New York. I have to see if he has a local office we can take them to.”

“Oh is it?” you ask with a little smirk. You knew the address was in New York, you just hadn’t told Ernie that because you’re sure he would have made you call and arrange another local location to drop off the cookies at. The last thing you wanted to do was call anyone, let alone the guy you were pretty sure was your soulmate.

Ernie gives you a look like he knows that you’re being iffy about the whole soulmate set up. He doesn’t say anymore on the topic, just hands you the two dozen cookies. You take the box and head for the front door, you delivered to The Beanery almost every day because the girls who worked there didn’t usually have time to swing by and pick up their order. It was no trouble, the place was only a few blocks down and around the corner.

You pass by Bennett’s Tailor shop on the way and you pause, looking up at the big gold lettered sign. It was kind of tacky to be honest. You would think as a tailor he would have chosen something more sophisticated and sleek for the font of his business name, but y’know, it was whatever. The sign says closed and opening hours were 9am to 5pm on weekdays. You raise your eyebrows and keep going toward your destination a few shops up.

The moment you’re outside the coffee shop your hand starts aching, not quite burning but just throbbing and you look around you. There are loads of people around and you can’t be sure who is causing the ache. Your eyes go to the tailor shop to see if the owner was getting in early but there is no one near it. Deciding to ignore the ache, you open the door and take the cookies up to the side counter where Lindsay, the owner, is making some speciality coffee for a customer.

“Hey Lins, I got your cookies,” you announce over the loud machine that she’s using to whip some frappe or something. Seeing all this fancy equipment makes you glad you only served hot tea and standard black coffee with cream or sugar over at the bakery. You don’t think you could wrap your head around all of it.

Lindsay looks up and smiles, eyes crinkling at the sight of you. She was one of the cutest girls you’d ever seen, chubby cheeks and red lipstick that matched her red hair. She was a character to say in the least. “Cookies! Perfect! I’ve already sold three so you arrived just in time,” she says as she takes the box and goes to the opposite counter. She leans out and yells into the sitting area, “Cookies for Cody and Linda are here. Come get’em!”

She hands the box off to a tall blonde girl beside her and returns to you. She digs in her apron and pulls out a couple bills to pay you with. “How’s things up there? Is Ernie still trying to hook you up with every guy under 30 who walks in for a loaf of bread?” Lindsay laughs and you count out the money she’s given you.

“Yeah of course. Actually we have narrowed down my potential soulmate,” you bite your lip and pocket the cash. “I’m going to find out for sure today. I have to deliver cookies to two places and whichever one makes my hand feel like I’ve stuck it in boiling water is the winner. Yay!” you cheer sarcastically.

Lindsay reaches over and squeezes your arm as she does a little excited dance in place. “I’m so happy for you! I know you’re probably super nervous but it’s okay, you’re gonna be so happy. Remember when I met Michael? I’m sure nothing could be worse.”

“Oh my god, yeah, he was a nightmare. You cried for like a week because he literally chewed your head off for fucking up his macchiato.”

“Yeah,” Lindsay laughs and sighs lovingly. “But he came back and apologized and asked me if I would forgive him and maybe go out with him to talk because he was pretty sure I was his soulmate because his balls were on fire and that’s why he chewed me out, the pain was almost unbearable.”

You let out a snort and shake your head. “Right, you have the weird birthmark story, thank god mine is normal.”

“Yep it’s right on my-”

“Lindsay!” the tall blonde yells over the hustle and bustle of baristas. “Espresso machine is on the fritz again!”

“Gotta go, see you around kid. Good luck!”

You wave goodbye and head for the front doors. Your hand suddenly zings again and you ball your fingers up into a fist. You take one last look around the coffee shop before opening the door, but you don’t even know who you’re looking for. Sure you knew what one of the guys looked like, but the other was a total mystery.

________________________

The minute you step into the bakery Ernie calls you to the counter from the back room. There is a tall guy standing there, short brown hair, fair skin, mid twenties maybe. You smile politely and walk around the counter.

“Hi, can I help you?” you ask cheerfully, smiling your biggest friendliest smile at the gentleman before you.

“Ah, yes,” he chuckles, looking over at the bakery case. “The man who was up here seems to have had to run to take something out of the oven. I’d like a dozen of your chocolate chip cookies and a dozen of the peanut butter.”

You turn and go to the case, gathering his order and boxing it up. You punch it into the register and announce the total. He hands over a credit card and you happen to glance at the name on the front as you hand it back. The moment you see it your stomach drops. Jacob Bennett.

Jacob gather his boxes of cookies and waves goodbye with a bright smile. You turn and march through the swinging door the moment he is out of the shop. “Ernie! Did you call the Bennett guy yet? About the catered cookies?”

“No, not yet. His store hours said 9am so I didn’t want to-”

“Oh thank god,” you sigh, leaning on the rolling table and taking a deep breath. “That guy was Jacob Bennett and my hand,” you stick your hand up for emphasis “is perfectly fine! Which means the guy who was in here the other day is Shawn Mendes and he is my soulmate.”

“Perfect, because I already called him.”

“You what?”

Ernie grins and puts a batch of hard rolls into the oven. “Yeah, I called him first. He said we can deliver the cookies to the Kings Estate. I’ve got them boxed up over there,” he says pointing to three flat boxes of cookies on the nearby counter. “Better hurry. Our product shines best when it’s fresh.”

You walk over and grab the boxes, side eyeing Ernie as you head for the doors. Kings Estate was a massive sprawling old castle just outside of town that had been renovated for tours and events. In the big main building that was still standing was a home where the owners of the estate lived. The owners who happened to be the Mendes family. You set the boxes of cookies in the attached travel basket on your bike that you parked out front and head for the castle, and your soulmate.

________________________

The ride to the back door of the Kings Estate home was bumpy and left something to be desired when riding a bike. It had taken you nearly half an hour to get there and then another ten minutes just to find and ride down the hill that had signs that said “Delivery Entrance This Way” but here you are, parking your bike against the side of the old brick building and looking up at it’s towering architecture. It’s quite beautiful in a historic sense. You had been to the castle a few times while growing up, field trips with school and all, but never the renovated home.

The sky rumbles above you and you take a glance around at the dark clouds that were blowing in. Great, you hadn’t brought a jacket or your umbrella. The ride back was going to be damp to say in the least. You reach out and knock on the big wooden double doors after glancing at the doorbell that had a sign taped over it that read OUT OF SERVICE. For as wealthy as they were, you would think they could get a doorbell fixed in a timely manner.

Seconds tick by and you stand there, rocking on your feet, cookie boxes in hand. Sure enough your hand starts to ache, a slow burning tingling ache coursing across your hand. It makes your heart stop, a lump forms in your throat. He was close. On the other side of the door? Was he going to answer?

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to steady your nerves. So what if he was your soulmate, that didn’t meant he was just going to scoop you up and change your whole life. What were you, cinderella? Hardly. You chuckle to yourself but quickly snap your head up as the door before you opens and there is an older woman standing before you.

“Hello, I didn’t know we had any deliveries today,” she says in the sweetest voice. “Are you sure this wasn’t for the maintenance crew at the castle?”

“No, not it’s not,” you start, looking down at the boxes and balling your fist up under them because the pain was almost too much. “These are for Shawn Mendes. He won our weekly catered cookies and said we could deliver them to this address?”

The woman looks to her left, just inside the closed door beside her. “Oh,” she nods, seemingly being told something by someone just out of sight. “Yes, yes, I’ll take them.”

You hand over the cookies and her hand brushes against your birthmark, making you flinch and grit your teeth. “I hope you have a nice day,” you manage, almost holding back tears. “Our card is in the box for all your future catering need.”

“Are you alright?” she asks, giving you a concerned motherly look. “You seem to be in pain. Can I get you a drink? Did you get hurt on the way over?”

“No it’s n-”

“It’s her hand,” a voice says from beside the woman and the second wooden door opens. It’s the guy from the shop, Shawn. He’s in a button down with rolled up sleeves and a pair of black slacks. “It’s burning isn’t it?”

Your eyes widen and you stumble back on the uneven gravel as you watch the woman disappear into the house. “Yeah. It’s like I stuck it in a pot of boiling water.” You rub it harshly, willing the pain away but it isn’t working. Shawn steps toward you and your heart pounds, blood rushing in your ears almost making you dizzy. Breathe. Fuck you have to breathe. You take in a deep breath and Shawn stops.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” he soothes as he offers his hand to you. “Take my hand.”

You shake your head, biting your lips and staring at his outstretched hand.

He takes a step closer and you shy away, pulling your hands close to your chest. “I promise I don’t bite. Come on, take it. Trust me.”

“No,” you whisper. “I can’t. I’m scared.”

“Hey, I won’t hurt you. I just want to see your hand.”

“No, no, no,” you close your eyes as Shawn reaches out, fingertips on your hand as he pulls it away from your chest. The ache fades away, quickly turning into a pleasant warmth that courses through your veins starting at your hand.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” Shawn mutters, his thumb brushing over your birthmark. “I never thought I’d find you.”

“Did you know, the other day in the bakery?” you ask, pulling your hand away.

“Oh I knew,” he chuckles, rubbing his hand over his tattoo. “I knew the minute I saw you through the door. Y’know you were so cute the way you were blushing and just losing your mind because I was right there and you were looking at your soulmate.” He grins, taking your hand again. “I was actually going to come back today. My dad is really sick so I didn’t want to leave yesterday but I knew I had to come see you again. Then you just show up at my door with cookies looking as adorable as can be...” He hums, eyes going over you in your dress with matching colored tights. “How did I get so lucky?”

You blush at his attentions. He was really laying it on you and you didn’t mind one bit. The guy was fine as fine could be. “You knew? Why didn’t you say something? It would have saved me a lot of trouble and worry in the last twenty four hours.”

“You were too nervous, literally hiding from me behind the cooler on the counter,” Shawn says, pulling you closer to him and under the small eve just out of the rain. His fingers come up to your face and he tucks some hair behind your ear. “Tell me, are you nervous because you’ve just met your soulmate, or are you nervous because of who I am?”

“B-both?” You swallow hard and look up at him. To be honest you never thought you would be so nervous to meet your soulmate, and when you did, you assumed he or she would be some regular person with a regular job. You never expected someone like Shawn Mendes. If fairytales were real, you were most definitely in the middle of one.

“Both, hmm,” he purrs questioningly. “Well, I wonder what we can do to fix that.” He leads you a few steps more so you’re fully inside the doorway. The rain picks up and drenches the courtyard, pooling along divets in the gravel, soaking everything to the core.

“I can’t stay,” you blurt out. “I have to go back to work. Ernie doesn’t have another front end person. I can’t leave him there.”

“Right. Shit.” Shawn shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out his keys. “I’ll give you a ride. I can’t let you walk back.”

“But my bike?” you ask, pointing to your bike next to the doors. “I don’t want to leave it here.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring it to you when the rain stops.” He grabs a jacket off a nearby hook and hands it to you. “Come on, the Jeep is mine.” He clicks the fob on his keys and the lights flash, signalling it was unlocked.

You put the jacket over your head and hold it up as you run to the car. It helps keep you pretty dry and you crawl into his car, your butt only a little wet as you take a seat. Your hand was aching, but it was different this time, warmer, pleasant.

Shawn gets in the drivers side and he is soaked, his button down clinging to his skin reveals quite a physique underneath. You blush, cheeks going a deep shade of pink as you find your mind wandering to what he would look like with nothing on. He glances at you for just a moment before he starts up the car and you could swear he smirks as if he knows just what you’re thinking about.

Shawn backs out of the parking space and heads for the road you came in on. The moment you get to the gates he stops and looks over at you. “Give me your hand,” he says softly. “Please, I know you need it too.”

You put your hand out and he takes it, threading his finger between yours while keeping one hand on the wheel. It’s far too intimate but it feels so right. It feels so good the way his touch makes warmth spread up your arm and into your whole body. “Thanks for the ride,” you mumble, not sure what you should say or if you should talk at all. It felt like if you said the wrong thing this would all come shattering down around you.

“It’s no problem. You would be soaked if you had walked, that dress clinging to you all over...” he trails off and you can feel your cheeks burning. So he was thinking the same thing you were about him. “Couldn’t have you walking around town like that,” he smiles, thumb stroking back and forth over your skin gently.

“I would be a sight to see,” you chuckle and he hums in agreement. He pulls up to the front of the bakery and the soft light from inside is glowing on the sidewalk in the overcast grayness. “Thanks again,” you smile and he releases your hand. “I’ll see you around?”

“I’ll stop by tomorrow. I’d love more of those cookies of yours that I got the other day.”

“The blueberry ricotta shortcake ones Ernie sent with you?” you ask, eyebrows raised. Shawn hums and you blush for the billionth time. “I’m not sure we will have any of them for a while. The ingredients can be kind of expensive.”

“Well, whatever you have then. I’ll taste anything you want me to.”

“Anything?” you ask, trying to gauge if he was trying to be flirty or not.

Shawn eyes go over you as he says, “Anything,” in the most ridiculously flirty tone.

His voice makes you hot and you find the door handle, pulling it and then pushing the door open. The rain splatters on your arm and you step out into the cold downpour. It really helps you come back to your senses because Shawn was seriously riling you up. You duck under the awning outside the front doors and pull them open to get inside as quick as you can. Shawn pulls away as you look back, but you know he will return shortly.

“You’re back!” Ernie cheers as he comes out of the back upon hearing the bell over the door. “Did you meet him? Is he a good guy?”

“He is...something,” you giggle, leaning your head back against the door. “He’s going to come back tomorrow. When he does you better not be weird.”

“Me? Weird? Never!”

You narrow your eyes and point at Ernie and he makes a ridiculous face at you before ducking back into the back. “Did anyone stop by?”

“Just the usual morning crowd, I handled it!” Ernie pops his head out and smiles at you. “I could have handled it all day, y’know, if you wanted to stay with Mr. Mendes.”

“Ernie!” you yell and throw a rag at him off a nearby counter. He hurries back into the back cackling and you groan, knowing as soon as Shawn came back Ernie was going to be a terror.

________________________

“I heard you met your soulmate!” your sister, Tara, squeals as you walk through the front door of the small house the two of you shared. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Tara, I didn’t know until today,” you laugh and lock the door. You kick your shoes off in the tray beside the door and hang your purse up on a hook. “How could I tell you before I knew?”

“That isn’t what I heard,” she clucks as she comes around and puts her hands on her hips, standing in front of you, blocking your way into the living room. “I heard you met him yesterday but you denied him!”

“What?” you laugh. “Who is telling these wild stories?”

Tara grabs your hand and leads you into the living room. “I heard it from Barb who was told by Chris who works at the bookstore who overheard Betty Johnson telling Kathy Smits that you met him in the bakery and you denied him and you wouldn’t even talk to him!”

“Oh my god that is quite the game of telephone.” You shake your head and sink into the old couch, grabbing the nearby pillow and hugging it to your chest. “Here is what really happened.”

You finish up recapping the last three days for Tara and she stares at you dumbfounded. “Holy shit! He is like...tech royalty! How on earth did my baby sister get so lucky?” Tara yells and leans back in her recliner to stare at the ceiling in amazement.

“Funny thing is, he thinks he’s the lucky one.”

“No! No he does not!”

You laugh and shake your head. “He really does. He was looking at me like I was prettiest thing he’d ever seen and asked how he got so lucky. I really don’t think he owns a mirror because if he saw himself he would think I was about as pretty as a bag of trash.”

“Oh you’re not ugly at all. Don’t talk like that, you know you’re pretty as well as I do. When are you going to see him again?”

“Tomorrow,” you roll your eyes and Tara throws her pillow at you. “Hey! What was that for?”

“Rolling your eyes. Don’t be such a brat, he’s going to love you. It sounds like he’s already pretty taken with you as it is.”

“I’m just nervous. I mean he’s my soulmate!”

“I know!” Tara squeals and leans back in her chair. “Don’t fuck it up. I mean, one of us has to be happy in this life.”

You look at your sister softly and you can see the way her face kind of falls. She is happy for you, elated that you’ve found your soulmate and he’s someone really interesting, but the hurt from her losing her soulmate will always be there. You know there would always be a little jealousy when you found yours. You were all Tara had left, your mom passed away a few years ago and your dad was never in the picture. When Tara lost Ryan...she was never the same.

“You know it wasn’t your fault,” you mumble, reaching over and taking her hand. “Don’t tell me you still blame yourself.”

“No, no I know. It was an accident. I know that.”

“Good. Let’s make dinner together tonight then? You and me and that shitty old stove.”

Tara cracks a smile and squeezes your hand. “Yeah, us versus that old piece of shit.”

You laugh and she laughs with you. “For real though, we need to have the landlord replace that thing. It’s going to actually catch fire one day.”

________________________

The clock on your wall tells you it’s after midnight. Your mind had been racing with thoughts of Shawn since you finished dinner with Tara. For hours you scrubbed the internet for any information you could get on him. All his social media accounts were private so you weren’t going to get any info there. The most you could do was request to follow on instagram, which you did.

You moved on from social media to just media. Searching MD Tech and his name lead to a few articles but mostly they were focused on the company and he didn’t appear in most of the photos. For being a CEO of a massive company, the guy managed to keep his life pretty well hidden. It made you worry, maybe he was hiding something. Then again he could just be really private, unlike his partner, Nash Davenport. The amount of articles about him and his playboy ways you had to wade through to get even a picture of Shawn out of was astounding. How could someone so private be partners with someone so...not private.

A notification pops up on the top of your phone and you open it. Shawn accepted your follow request and sent you a message.

Shawn: Hey i’m glad you found me. I’ve been trying to find you all night. I realized I forgot to give you my number.

You: Oh yeah I guess the picture of a rose as my icon doesn't make it easy to identify me huh?

Shawn: Lol yeah and i don't know your last name

You: Oh right well you do now

Shawn: Mmhmm yeah its nice. Would be better as mine though.

You: Omg did you seriously just say that?

Shawn: Guess i did.

You just stare at your phone, cheeks pink as you reread that message over and over. He was really forward and that was just...not something you were used to with guys. It made your heart race but you try not to think too much of it. He was just being flirty. You could be flirty too.

Shawn: So what have you dug up on me? I know you’ve been looking me up if you found my instagram.

You: not much. You’re a real mystery man. Can’t find even one article about a one night stand gone wrong or anything lol

Shawn: thats good. I keep my life very private. I try not to make friends with anyone too unsavory

You: good to know. Some guys stick their dick in anything that moves which usually leads to a lot of other bad choices too

Shawn: lol yeah that is not me at all. I prefer serious relationships but havent had one in a while.

You: serious? Even though you hadn’t met your soulmate yet?

Shawn: I never thought I’d meet you. I’m twenty five I figured you just weren’t out there anymore.

You: can I ask you about your tattoo? On your hand.

Shawn: you want to know why I covered my birthmark right? Like I said i never thought i would find you so i didn’t care and covered it up.

You: did it change the way it felt when you were near me?

Shawn: it felt like my skin was boiling off when i was near you. I think the tattoo made it more sensitive. What did it feel like for you?

You: Same. but sometimes it was more tingly like pins and needles on my skin.

Shawn: yeah... but that part is over now. you should get some sleep. I know you have to work tomorrow.

You: you need to sleep too.

Shawn: I’ll be fine. Go to sleep.

You: not until you say you’re going to sleep

Shawn: stubborn. Do I have to call you and make sure you’re actually going to sleep?

You: like facetime me?

Shawn: Yeah why not?

You: okay

You send Shawn your phone number and within a few minutes your phone is ringing. Nerves almost get the best of you and you really want to hang up on him but you don’t. A moment later his face is on the screen, he’s laying in bed on his side with a sleep mask pushed up on his forehead.

“Hey you,” he smiles and you prop your phone up on your nightstand. “Is this weird?” he chuckles.

“Doesn’t feel weird.” You lay on your side so you’re facing him. “Do you think it’s weird?”

“Nah.” He’s quiet and the two of you sort of just stare at each other on the tiny screens. He breaks first, chuckling and presses his face into his pillow. “You’re really cute.”

“You’re not so bad yourself. I mean, look at you. Such a rich pretty boy.”

“Rich pretty boy huh? Is that what you see when you look at me?”

You laugh and bury your face in your pillow. “I’m just teasing you. You’re really gorgeous and you seem like a really good guy. Honestly, I can’t believe you’re my soulmate.”

“I’m so glad I met you.”

“Me too.”

Shawn pulls his phone closer so his whole face is on screen and you can see a couple zits on his jaw. So maybe he wasn’t as perfect as he seemed. You chuckle to yourself and he smiles at you. “Go to sleep or I won’t come see you tomorrow.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Oh that’s not very nice.”

You giggle, lack of sleep really catching up to you. “Maybe I’m not very nice.”

“Oh I think you are, but you’re sleepy and you’re just being fiesty.”

“Mmm,” you hum into your pillow. He could read you like a book. It was strange, having just met but feeling like you’d known him your whole life. He felt comfortable, easy to talk to. “I’ll go to sleep.”

Shawn hums and you open your eyes a bit to see him one more time. That lovely face and those soft eyes...he was just your type, how perfect. “Close your eyes, stop staring at me,” he chuckles and you hide your face in your pillows once more. “Yeah, I can see you, that’s how cameras work y’know.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, a blush spreading across your cheeks. “I’m trying to sleep.”

“Alright, alright. Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers and you nod slightly, sleep taking over completely as you listen to his soft breathing and the shift of his blankets when he moves. It’s nice. Comfortable. Feels right.

________________________

“Get up! You’re going to be late!” Tara yells and you startle, jerking awake in your bed. Your phone falls on the floor and you sit up to look at the time on your wall clock. Half past seven. Saturdays you were supposed to be at the bakery at eight in the morning.

“Oh crap,” you groan, throwing your legs over the side of the bed and standing up. You hurry and pick a skirt and a blousy shirt from your pile of unfolded clean clothes. The shirt is wrinkled but it’s not that bad. You grab a clip for your hair and run your fingers through it. You skip your tights because that would take way too long to get on, so you opt for some bicycle shorts just in case your skirt came up at all. By the time you reach the door Tara is holding out your boots and you tug them on with the socks you wore to bed still on your feet.

You get the door open and then you freeze on the porch. “My bike...fuck,” you drop your head and groan. “It’s still at the Kings Estate. Shawn was going to bring it to me today because it rained yesterday.”

“Well there is no use in crying about it now. Start walking!” Tara point to the road and you march toward it.

It’s nearly a quarter after eight when you round the corner and head down the street to the bakery. Parked outside is your bike on the rack and a black Jeep in the parking space just outside the front doors. Shawn was already there. You pick up the pace and jog the last few yards to the doors.

Once inside you don’t find Shawn waiting for you. He wasn’t in his car when you passed by either. Huh. You look around as you take your purse off and put it under the counter. Laughter from the back gets your attention and you push open the swinging door slowly.

“Oh you should have seen her, she was a mess! The whole bag of flour just dumped all over her. She looked like a ghost!” Ernie laughs and standing beside him also laughing was Shawn.

Shawn. Covered in flour, sleeves rolled up, laughing like this was an everyday thing. He turns to look at you when the door swings closes behind you, making a slight squeaking noise along it’s hinges. “Oh look who’s here,” he smiles, putting his hands on his hips.

“Yes, I’m here because I work here. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you but you weren’t here yet.” He walks over and takes in your disheveled appearance, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “From the looks of it, you woke up late.”

“It’s your fault for keeping me up so late.” You cross your arms and lean to the side to look past him at Ernie. “You let this pretty boy back in your bakery?”

Ernie grins. “He was here at eight and you weren’t here yet so I thought I’d show him a thing or two. He’s a quick learner, and he came with gifts.”

“Gifts?” you ask, returning your attention to the man in front of you. “What kind of gifts?”

“Gifts for making cookies. I brought ricotta and blueberries so we could make those cookies of yours.” Shawn grabs a towel and wipes his floury hands off before taking yours and leading you out into the front area. “Ernie is just about to put them in the oven, in the meantime I thought  we could talk.”

The door over the shop jingles and in walks a couple customers. Three regulars who came by for morning pastries and their daily bread. “I’d love to talk but I have to work too y’know,” you whisper to Shawn, pulling away and going by the register to greet the customers.

Shawn slides up behind you and puts his hand on your lower back. It sends a shiver up and down your spine but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Show me how to do this,” he whispers and you glance up at him. “I’ll watch you with the first one okay?”

“Hi, what can I get for you?” you ask Mr. Peters as he approaches the counter. He says he needs a loaf of rye bread and two hard rolls. You move to the cooling racks that Ernie must have just rolled out and you gather the items requested, bagging them in clear cello wrap sleeves before returning to the counter. Shawn remains hot on your heels, watching your every move.

“That will be six dollars,” you announce, typing the loaf and roll costs into the register. Mr. Peters hands you a couple bills and you make change. He smiles up at Shawn and gives you a little wink and a smile as he heads out.

“So that’s it? Bag and box up the goods?” Shawn asks, eyeing the little note with prices taped to the cash register. “Then ring it up based on what it is?”

“Mmm hmm.” You look up and him and he smiles down at you. “Wanna try the next one?”

“I’d love to.”

A couple seconds pass and Ms. Jones walks up with a bag of rolls from the discount day old basket beside the display case. She asks for a dozen danishes with no fruit filling. Shawn smiles and grabs a box from under the register, unfolds it, and then gets a piece of the wax paper and starts picking out danishes from the display case.

You’re impressed. He seems to know what he’s doing and he even tiers the danishes in the box so they aren’t stacked on top of each other. Once he gets to the register he punches in the danish total and then gets stumped by the discount rolls. There isn’t a discount total and you raise your eyebrows, waiting to see what he does next.

“Half off,” you whisper and he smiles, nodding and typing in half the cost of a dozen rolls.

“Ten dollars,” he says to Ms. Jones and she smiles at him, then at you.

“I didn’t know Ernie was hiring anyone,” Ms. Jones giggles as she digs in her purse for payment. She leans in close after handing Shawn some cash and holds her hand up as if to whisper just to you. “He’s a cute one! Better keep him around!”

You laugh and Shawn rolls his eyes, thanking her for coming in and handing over her goods. Shawn crosses his arms and leans against the counter, looking down at you and then grabbing your hand, thumb smoothing over your birthmark. “That wasn’t so bad now was it?”

“Sure wasn’t. Maybe we should keep you around.”

“Maybe you should,” he hums and you duck your head as he chuckles.

________________________

The bakery was closed on Sundays so you end up going out to lunch with Shawn and talking for a long while. You learn that he went to a private boarding school outside of town and spent most of his summers with his grandparents in Portugal. It was amazing the two of you had grown up so close but had never come across each other until now. Lunch soon turned into dinner and dinner turned into late night sushi a few towns over. The two of you spent all of Sunday together and you couldn’t have been happier.

“Can I come in?” Shawn asks as he stands with you on the front porch of your house. It’s almost two in the morning and you had been out way later than you ever intended to be.

“I dunno,” you giggle, rocking on your feet with your heels in your hand. “Depends on what your intentions are.”

“Oh I dunno if I could tell you that. Maybe I could show you,” he smirks. His hands come up and he cups your jaw tenderly, leaning your face up as he places a soft kiss on your lips. “How’s that?” he whispers and you nod. He goes in again, this time with a bit more urgency to taste you.

Your hands go to his chest as you feel your body heating up, toes curling against the cold cement below you. “Easy, easy,” you giggle and he keeps pecking your lips, smiling each time. “If that’s your intentions then I might be inclined to let you inside.”

“Oh? I promise I’ll kiss as much as you like,” he smiles, presses his forehead to yours. “I’ll kiss you anywhere you like too.”

You bite your lip and reach for your keys in your purse. “Come on, but be quiet, my sister would never let me live it down if she knew I let a guy in on the first date.”

“Ohh, bad girl,” Shawn teases and runs his hands along your sides. “Gonna have to stay real quiet huh?” He kisses the back of your neck as you fumble with your keys in the lock. “I make no promises.”

“Fuck,” you breath out and he pulls you back against him. You can feel how hard he is getting and you can’t help but get aroused as well. You step into the house, turning and grabbing the front of his shirt. “Get in here already.”

________________________

For the next three weeks Shawn splits his time between being with his parents and being with you at the bakery. After the first week Shawn just seemed to fit right in with you and Ernie. He started running the front end while you worked with Ernie in the back on new recipes and just giving him a hand in general. Ernie offered to pay Shawn for his time but he refuses, flat out told him no he wasn’t going to take a dime, that being allowed to be there with you was more than enough payment.

One day you are setting up tables just after you flipped over the open sign and unlocked the door and you notice Shawn hasn’t showed up yet. He was usually always there before you if the two of you weren’t coming in together. If he wasn’t coming he would text you and let you know he was staying with his dad or he had a conference call or something. It worries you, makes you think something has happened with his dad. He was getting better though, fighting through the pneumonia like a champ. The doctors said he would be on his feet in a few weeks.

You check your phone about a dozen times in a ten minute period. You had already sent a couple texts, asking Shawn where he was and if everything was alright. The lack of response made you even more worried.

The door on the shop jingles and startles you as you’re lost in thought, causing you to knock over the sugar shaker on the table you were straightening up. You hadn’t realized just how on edge you were about Shawn not replying. Your back is to the door as you pick up the sugar shaker set it up right before you go to turn around. When you do, Shawn is next you, his warm hand on your side is unexpected and you bump into the table.

“Easy there, wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he chuckles as he sets a carrier with three coffees in it on the table behind you. He looks down at the sugar pile on the table and then to you. “Looks like you made a bit of a mess there.”

“You scared me. It’s all your fault,” you smile playfully, relief washing over you that he showed up.

“Oh it’s all my fault huh?” he purrs, reaching around you and rubbing his finger in the sugary mess. He brings his finger up to your lips and presses it against them. “You should really clean it up.”

You slip your tongue out and lick his finger clean, making him grin at you and pull you closer against him. He pulls his finger away and touches the sugar again, more of it sticking to his now slightly damp finger. He brings it back up and pushes it past your lips and you take it into your mouth, sucking the sugar off as you eyes fall closed.

“Mmm, so sweet. Such a good girl,” Shawn whispers and you nod, mouth bobbing a bit around his finger. “Just what I wanted in a soulmate,” he dips his head down and his breath ghosts across your ear. “A good girl who listens, does what she’s told.” He chuckles and you feel heat pool in your stomach as he places a kiss just under your ear.  

“Break it up!” Ernie yells from behind the counter and you pull away from Shawn, a blush staining your cheeks, heart racing. “You’re like a bunch of teenagers!”

“Oh come on Ernie, from what you’ve told me you couldn’t keep your hands on your soulmate either when you were our age,” Shawn quips, picking up the coffee carrier and walking to the counter.

Ernie just laughs and shakes his head. “What are you so late for hmm? You had our girl over here worried sick. I’ve never seen her so pale.”

You walk over and stand beside Shawn. He puts his arm around you back and smiles down at you before looking back to Ernie. “Well, I had to get our coffees, and I had to make a few phone calls. I’d actually like to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?’ Ernie asks, grabbing the cup of coffee with his name on it and taking a sip. “What about kid?”

“I want to buy this place from you.”

“What?!” you blurt out, eyes wide as you look up at Shawn. “This is going to be my place, you can’t just come in here and-”

Shawn puts his finger to your lips and shushes you tenderly. “Easy easy now baby. It would be our place, me and you.”

“Can we talk about this in private,” you mumble around his finger on your lips. Shawn nods to Ernie, silently excusing the two of you and leads you outside.

“What’s the problem?”

“The problem? Shawn, we’ve only been together for what, almost a month? You want to just come and buy my bakery? Yes, my bakery, it is mine at the end of next month. I know you’ve got loads of money and crap but you can’t just leave your whole life behind because you found your soulmate!”

“Babe, that is exactly what I want to do. I fucking hate my job, you know I hate running MD Tech. It’s not me, I’m not a suit and tie guy. I have enough money to retire a dozen times over and I’m only twenty five. Meeting you gave me a new lease on life, an out from the corporate jungle. I just want a normal, comfortable life. I want to settle down with my soulmate, maybe have a few kids in the future, just...live.”

You look into the shop and watch as Ernie straightens up the display case. The guy always said you’d find your happily ever after one day. Shawn was definitely prince charming. If you and Shawn both took over the bakery that would allow you to bake all day while he ran the front. Shawn would be able to cover expenses and labor, hell, you could hire some extra help and maybe even expand into the empty shop space next door. Ernie always wanted to expand but it was never in the budget. Maybe...maybe with Shawn you could make not only your dreams come true but Ernie’s too.

“Talk to me, what’s going on in that head of yours?” Shawn asks, tilting you chin up to look at him.

“Alright,” you smile and he grins. “Deal. You can buy the bakery, but I want to pay him double. I want Ernie to be able to retire happily and travel like he’s always dreamed.”

Shawn wraps his arms around you and picks you up. “You got yourself a deal.” He kisses your neck and you giggle as you wrap your legs around him. He walks you into the shop and Ernie laughs. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to buy the place as soon as possible Ernie!”

“Sold!” Ernie laughs. “How soon can I start my vacation?”

Shawn smiles and sets you down, taking your hand and squeezing it. “Whenever you want. We got this place covered, right?”

“We sure do, but I have one exception.” Ernie raises his eyebrows. “You have to go on a long vacation and see your kids and don’t come back until we say so.”

“You want to keep me out of my bakery?”

“Our bakery,” Shawn smirks.

Ernie lifts his apron over his head and sets it on the counter. “You kids have a deal. The place is all yours. But when I do come back, can I still bake from time to time?”

“Of course,” you laugh and put your arm around Shawn. “We’d love to have you back as soon as you finish seeing the world. No skimping, Ern. Tomorrow we will get everything ready to sign over and you’ll be ready to start the rest of your life. We both get our happily ever after.”

________________________

One Year Later

“Lindsay! Do we have any more of the vanilla hazelnut whipped cream?” you yell from the door to the back of the bakery.

“Sure do, buttercup!” She throws you a small tub from a fridge under the counter of her homemade whipped cream blend. You catch it and duck back into the bakery to make a small batch of frosting out of it.

Shawn comes up behind you as you sit on a little stool and spread the whipped cream on a cooled cupcake. He snakes his arms around you and rubs over your stomach. “How’s the little bean today?” he purrs, rubbing up and down your little baby bump.

“The bean is hungry,” you laugh, leaning back to kiss him. “I’m going to take these out for samples and we can go get lunch.”

“What’s this magic concoction?”

You stand up, lifting the tray of cupcakes and holding them under Shawn’s nose. “Mocha espresso cupcakes with vanilla hazelnut whipped cream frosting.”

“Mmm, I knew I married you for a reason.”

“Oh? And why is that?” you tease as you lead him out of the bakery and to the front of the store. “Because I can bake? Because I’m your soulmate? Choose carefully, I’m a crazy pregnant woman now y’know.”

Shawn laughs. “All of the above?”

You set the tray of cupcakes down and tell your cashier, Jenna, that they are for samples today and to cut them up for anyone who wants to try them. “Good answer,” you say as you turn around and follow Shawn out from behind the counter.

“What are you thinking for lunch?”

“I’ve been craving a meatball sub. How about we go to Alfredo’s?”

Shawn hums and puts his arm around your back. “Anything you want.”

“Anything?” you giggle, walking your fingers up his chest and he grins.

“Behave,” he smiles and glances down at your tummy as he puts his hand on it. “You make your mom crazy, just absolutely crazy for me.”

You grab his face and pull him into a kiss. “I was crazy for you before and I’ll still be crazy for you after the baby.”

“Hmm, good.” Shawn kisses you a few more times, little pecks before he settles with his head against yours. “Come on, let’s go get you that meatball sub.”

“Yeah, I’m starved,” you giggle and go to the door to open it but you stop, hand hesitating as you turn around to look at the store and smile.

It took a couple months but you had done it. You had made the bakery everything Ernie ever dreamed it could be and more. Shawn bought the empty shop next door and the expansion began the day after the papers were signed. The whole back room was expanded into a full bakery with several more ovens and work spaces, proper storage and cooling racks were added along side stand mixers and a whole array of top of the line baking appliances.

Lindsay and her crew closed up shop a few blocks down and came to open the coffee shop with you. Her lease on the space was up and the rental fee was getting to be outrageous. With an expansion of the bakery counter and new water lines run to the front of the shop, you were in business together in a matter of weeks.

The sitting area went from a small six table space in the bakery to a fourteen table area from one end to the other, including an addition of window bar seating and several refrigerated cases on the bakery side for cakes and chilled goods.

Ernie’s Bakery and The Beanery became The Baked Bean and one year later you were open for business. To look back you never thought you would see the day that you had your happily ever after, but here you were. Bakery owner. Wife. Soon to be mother. Soulmate. Yeah...you got your happily ever after and it couldn’t be more perfect.

[ultrabigbootyjudy]

Pride and Prejudice JJK AU

Pairing - Jeon Jungkook

Genre - Fluff

Word Count - 4.1k

Mistakes - Many :)

CHARACTER LIST (Just incase x)

Elizabeth Bennett - Y/N

Jane Bennett - Park Jimin

Lydia Bennett - Kim Taehyung

Kitty Bennett - Jung Hoseok

Mary Bennett - Kim Namjoon (our lord and saviour)

Mr. Bingley - Min Yoongi

Mr. Darcy - Jeon Jungkook

Miss Bingley - Jennie from Black Pink

Mr Wickham - Kim Seokjin

Charlotte Lucas - Chan from Stray Kids

————

The dusty morning light billowed breezily through the open window, followed closely by the chirping and squawking of bird’s morning songs. The soft movements of songs rivalled that of even Beethoven’s pieces. Though they were truly beautiful to the ear, day after day they signalled the turn and start of a new chapter, I couldn’t help but want to skim over the chapters prior however. Gently rubbing underneath my eyes I squinted into the light. The harsh yellow sun poured onto my face and into my eyes, casting a golden glow onto my skin. A soft chill had crept into the house during our sleep. I sat up in my shared four poster bed, the length of my messy and strewn hair tumbling forwards from its resting place to lay behind my back in long looping cascades.  Softly grazing my hands over my face, I turned to Jimin, my elder brother, sleeping beside me peacefully. A hand laid daintily over his doll like features as he blocked the light seeping ever closer.

Sliding to the edge of the bed I felt the dense and scratchy mattress pull at my night dress, lifting it up to my thighs. Once I stood, I smoothed the silky and crumpled folds down, so it fell at just above my ankles in a soft stirring motion.  The fabric tickled my heels in a pleasant way, the way in which soft fabric ran against skin to create a soothing motion. Like water wrapping around one’s body. Even though it was a pleasant feeling having it at my ankles, I do wish it was longer, not paid for long ago and only slightly fitting. The dress laid out before me flowed in a similar way, just longer.

 My clothes had been routinely laid out every night before I slept, they were where I put them exactly and had been untouched until I pulled them on. First my undergarments, then the slightly constricting cages of my corset followed by the bodice and petticoat. All in a pale creamy colour close to churned butter, the hem of the petticoat however was stained slightly from days spent traipsing around with my brothers. The same stained effect matched with my worn boots and socks which I pulled on as quietly as possible, fighting against the constraint of my corset. Oh, how I loathed the cursed thing.

 Once I had successfully tied my shoes into neat bows, I turned around to gaze upon our small, russet coloured and boxy mirror hanging off of the equally old rusty nail. I can remember clearly the day when my father himself had put it there, but back then it was not rusty, and our family numbers had no swelled so much. Raking through my tangled and frayed hair with my thin, calloused fingers. Then hastily, I proceeded it into a loose hanging braid. An old, ripped and blue ribbon dangling like and afterthought from my hair. Behind me Jimin stirred in a disorientated fashion, rustling around in our pale sheets. Feebily attempting to find a space in the bed void of the glowing sunlight. I turn away from the mirror a smile pressed to my blush colour lips, and silently slid our thin curtains to a close.

 From there I picked up a worn and well-loved book, its once green covered a murky brown hue, the corners of the hard cover peeling and chipped beyond repair. Inside the pages were yellow and thinner than a bee wing, tearing at the slightest touch. This book, I was gentle with it, extremely so. I ran my hand along the spine of it before opening it. Pages falling sidewards, parting the book to where the dusty red ribbon I used as a book mark lay. My index finger ran along the page as I followed the words. They were as light as my feet on the dusty wooden floor as I walked out of my family’s home. Even, with the boards in their current state.

 I was immediately met with the aromatic sent of the morning country side, dewy, glistening grass. Blooming, beautiful bellflowers Jimin had lovingly planted last spring sprung forth from said grass in vibrant bursts of lilac, violet and lace. Contrasting heavily against the uniform shades of the grass near the house. The flowers had grown past the edge of our house and into the thicker grass. Hiding amongst the tufts of eggshell coloured grass which had grown up to my middle thigh. Its coarse and dry touch scraping at my dress as I walked out along it. To me, it was a surprise it was so dry unlike the ground it spewed forth from which squelched and squirmed beneath one’s foot.

 I walked for a short while, down the back of the overgrown muddy road our house and property curved around and back. The walk to the end and back was enough to satisfy my needs, the need to be freshened and ready for the day. On days like this, when the sun bloomed amongst the feathery lace of clouds, I would often walk. Many a time I would find myself in the company of my brothers as we embarked on adventures through the woods not far from here or we’d travel to the town. Taehyung was always in ‘need’ of new ribbons, fancy cravats or an added piece of lace on his clothes, Hoseok followed his every example. The pair of them bled both mine and Jimin’s coffers. Those days, they were my favourite, they were the best, they were everything. My family was everything to me, no matter how bizarre un-reputable they were.

 It seemed most days there was always something strange to talk about, something to plot or something to cry over. Most of the plotting I left to my mother, she always had some idea in her head and did not shy from voicing these opinions. My mother was a very vocal person. I hadn’t even stepped back inside, and I could already hear her shrill of a voice through the green, peeling door left ajar. Smiling to myself I tucked my book under my arm and went to investigate.

 Today she was particularly animated with her speech. Taehyung and Hoseok quite literally squealed whilst listening beside the door as their parents’ conversations drifted forth. Jimin sat on the stairs, his hair combed back neatly in a swath of black tresses. He smiled ever so politely in the inviting way he always did. He wore brown coloured slacks and a loose-fitting white shirt which had gone cream over the years of use. A patch of pink and white lace sewn daintily into the collar to cover a large stain. I remember that day, I was the one to sew it into the fabric lovingly. Sitting beside him, I stretched my legs out. Mud caked onto my shoes and up my socks. “What is it this time brother?”

 “A wealthy man has bought Netherfield,” Jimin smiled excitedly, “Mother said he earned 4,000 pounds a year ($2,607,755 Australian Dollars today x).”

 “What’s the gentleman’s name?”

 “Mr. Bingley!” Hoseok and Tae swooned, fanning their faces with their hands. I smiled softly whilst also rolling my eyes, the action is un-lady like, I am fully aware of that. I do it anyway, it seems the best gesture in the situation anyway. Resting my head on Jimin’s slight shoulders I sigh. Mother’s voice was raised so even from this distance where I sat on the stairs, I could hear her;

 “Mr. Bennet! You must have a word with this Mr. Bingley!”

 Jimin’s shoulders quaked slightly from laughter, his eyes curling into half-moon’s and lips open as the soft sound escaped them. He was truly handsome, in fact all of my brothers were. I was proud to have them as brothers. Even if they were acting in the most bizarre of fashions. Taehyung and Hoseok tripping forwards as father opened the door to his study. They both blushed and looked on with wide unbecoming eyes, wanting to devour any information they could.

 ~

 I sat on my bed the warm ochre evening light drifting through the open window as the sun drifted ever further from us and the snowy orb of the moon drew ever closer. The light cast a beautiful tone upon Jimin and I’s skin. Jimin sat on a plain wooden stool in front of our vanity, his hands in his lap. I stood above him, my hands running through the locks with a fraying brush. Gently I pushed them away from his forehead, pinning small flowers through its lengths. Resting my hand on his shoulder I nodded.  Admiring how the flowers busted through his thick black hair in pale colours, contrasting heavily with their background.

 “Good?” I queried to which Jimin simply nodded and stood. Our places exchanged and his hands running through my already braided hair. I myself had braided it as I had a knack for the task. Jimin opened a small box on our dresser revealing a set of beautiful pearls. He ran his finger along it before fastening them across my hair. Each loop, twirl and twizzle of hair adorned by a perfect pearl. As they were behind my head, I could not see them, I trusted Jimin however, to make them look perfect. Jimin smiled, following my previous actions.

 With a hand on his shoulder he mimicked; “Good?”

 “Excellent,” I smiled, one of my smaller hands resting atop of his still dainty hand. The cuff of Jimin’s shirt resting against my skin, a small copper coloured cufflink cool on my warm skin. He wore matching earrings, a simple copper stud holding onto a blue gem. An equally beautiful necklace hung from his swan like neck. They were family heirlooms, from a past generation, a past life and a past living. With our current living we could barely afford ribbons for our brothers and ourselves. Life wasn’t filled with the pleasantry money brought, that hole was filled with family pride. “What are you going to wear Jimin?” I smiled, swivelling around on the chair.

 Jimin smiled and turned to the chair to reveal the final parts of his ensemble, they were his most expensive items. An old green cravat that was fraying from being worn so often and a smooth, boned corset that synched his already tiny waist. He held them up and cocked his head to the side. I nodded in acceptance at his taste. Jimin had already helped me pick the dress I wore currently so I knew it was to his liking.

 Once we had finished dressing the sun was touching the horizon, laying lazily upon the grassy British fields. It was truly mesmerising. Our ride to the venue was spent with small jokes and happy moments filled with awestriking scenery. Taehyung and Hoseok didn’t stop with their incessant speaking, their chattering filling the silent space between other words. Mrs. Bennet only added more fuel to the already raging fire by adding her own voice.

 I think both our father Jimin and I were glad to be rid of them for a short while once we had entered the ball. It had already started yet no dancing had began. A slow waltz playing mournfully in the background. The tempo slow and reflective, it merged perfect with the ambient chatter. “There are so many people,” I remarked.

 “Mm,” Jimin smiled gazing at the crowd. He stood beside her at just a short bit taller than her. “I think they’re going to start the dancing. I know we’re siblings, but would you dance with me Y/N?”

 “Anything for my eldest and most tolerable sibling,” I smiled offering my hand which he took. Bowing comically, it resulted in my cheeks to swirl with a colour close to Amaranth. I covered my smile with my hand as we took up our places. Jimin stood opposite me in a row of mixed males and females of varying heights and builds. I stood in a similar unisex row, though a lot of my row were made of more timid and shy people. Smiling I curtsied as Jimin bowed to me both of us swooping low in an elegant and formal action. Once we had regained our balance in unison with those around us the dance began.

 Skirts swirled and twirled gracefully, and cravats clouded out in elegance as the dance took up its bounding tempo. Music and clapping filled the room enhanced by the thundering of footsteps. I let out a less than ladylike laugh my head tipping back with strands of hair. The strands fell behind me like my brothers’ ribbons on a windy day. Every step of the dance set a rush of exhilaration forth and a new stretch on my smile. Like all good things though it must come to an end, the music slowed and then all together came to a halt. Jimin and I smiling as we curtsied and bowed.

 I was coming back up from curtsying when a quiet hush filled the room, even the music stopped in an eerie way. Standing up I turned my head, one loose strand of hair trailing against the crook of my neck in a well-groomed curl. My lips parted slightly as I took in the view. The crowd surveyed the newcomers, though by now everyone had seemed to piece them together with the rumours and gossip as I had too in some ways. Mr Yoongi Bingley stood shorter than the other male he was stood beside. A small smile to his face as he stood before everyone, a little overwhelmed by the silence. His black hair neatly trimmed, like the taller more muscular male beside him. He seemed to be unperplexed by the attention, staring out blankly at the crowd. “He’s handsome,” Jimin stood beside me taking my arm. I rested my hand on Jimin’s arm and nodded.

 “Which one?”

 “Mr Bingley of course, though his friend isn’t too bad either,” Jimin laughed softly under his breath. I snorted, my hand covering my mouth as I laughed at Jimin’s remark. I’m sure I received some looks for my most unbecoming mannerisms.

 “Jimin Bennet,” My mother scolded, loudly. Luckily the music had started again. Her high-pitched voice drowned out. “That isn’t just any man, that’s Mr. Jungkook Darcy. He owns half of Derbyshire!”

 “It must be the sad half of Derbyshire,” I remarked. Beside me Chan Lucas laughed softly shaking his head. His black hair being tossed around. His head nodding in agreement at the rich males’ mannerisms.

 “Mr Bennet!” Mother waved, running after her husband. Jimin and I in tow. Her flat feet hitting on the wooden floors loudly and her skirts flying up ever so slightly. She was in a hurry, for what we still didn’t have a clue. Mother was always scheming, sometimes I thought our father was in on it too. “You must introduce the children to Mr Bingley!” She cried to which our fathers only response was to sigh. Beside him Namjoon frowned, not at all interested with the idea, Hoseok and Taehyung squealed.

 Standing between the youngest two I pinched them both; “Behave.” I instructed them. They must have not realised how easily they could get carried away when in each other’s company. Which was most days. In unison they straightened their backs and plastered on a contempt smile. Though Hoseok had difficulty maintaining it. Namjoon was the opposite his face blank and unimpressed. The only reason we had coaxed him out tonight was because of the promise of a piano forte. His fingers itched to play it.

 “Mr Bingley,” Our mother waved at the male which was becoming swarmed by young ladies and men. He smiled at us, his pink lips peeling back slightly to reveal smooth white teeth and pink gum. The gesture itself was adorable.

“Hel-,”

 “I’m Mrs. Bennet,” she smiled. Cutting him off completely as she kept talking. “This is Jimin our eldest.” Jimin blushed slightly dipping into a dainty bow and nodding in Mr. Bingley’s direction. Bingley’s eyes lingering for just a bit too long on the small male. They were around the same height. “Y/N,” Mother said waving her hand absentmindedly to me. I curtsied a pleasant smile on my closed lips. I surveyed Mr Bingley who smiled back at me and then Mr. Darcy who still had a blank expression on his face. “Taehyung and Hoseok,” Taehyung with a surprising amount of dignity bowed. Hoseok squealed, to which I grabbed a portion of skin on his arm and pinched him. When Namjoon was introduce he bowed silently. Beside the two males Jennie Bingley, Mr. Bingley’s sister, stood haughtily staring at each of the girl’s ensembles with an upturned nose and a straight lips expression.

 The next family cut them out even as Mr Bingley watched Jimin leave with the rest of the family. I was the only exception, Chan Lucas pulling me from the fray easily. He wore a white shirt with yellow laced cuffs, olive-green corset and burgundy slacks, a black dress jacket thrown over his shoulders. Wordlessly his fingers enter twined themselves within my own as he dragged me away from the rest of the ball to a table at the farthest edges in dim lighting. I hardly noticed it was there myself.

“Chan,” I smiled greeting him. His eyes crinkling as he smiled. “How are you dearest?” I asked politely.

 “Pleasant,” He yawned and leant forwards on the table. His elbow resting against the cream table cloths. “So, which one of these painted peacocks is Mr. Bingley?”

 “He’s on the right, and the woman is his sister,” I said, cocking my head in their direction. My eyes never once leaving Chan.

 “And the person with the disagreeable expression?”

 “That’s his good friend Mr. Darcy, the poor soul,” I laughed.

 Chan seemed to know the name; “On the contrary dearest Gracie, if he is Mr. Darcy then he owns half of Derbyshire and earns at least ten thousand pounds a year ($2,978,749.70).”

  ~

 I stood beside my brother in a small group consisting of a few familiar faces, Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy and Jennie Bingley. Jimin, ever faithful stood beside me. “How do you like it here Mr Bingley?”

 “Very much,” he smiled. His eyes not wandering far from the blushing Jimin who stood playing with the hem of his collar.

 “I’ve heard that the library in Netherfeild is one of the best in the country,” I smile.

 “Mm, I’m filled with guilt over it,” A blush covered his pale neck as he watched Jimin, “I’m not a good reader you see.”

 Jennie steps forwards as the blush threatens to creep further across Mr Bingley’s skin. She put’s and arm on her brothers. “Mr. Darcy your library at Pemberley is astonishingly filled is it not?”

 “It is the work of generations,” Mr. Darcy says monotonously.

 “You have added so much to it,” Mr Bingley complemented him. Turning his gaze away from Jimin, it seems he hadn’t really stopped looking at my brother. I found it sweet, Jimin had that effect on many men and women alike, my brother was a natural charismatic.

 “I wish I read more, but there is always so much to do,” Smiled Jimin.

 “As do I,” Mr Bingley nodded. Turning back to Jimin, Mr. Bingley held out his hand, his skin pale and smooth. As he dipped low so too did his hair, dipping low on his forehead, hanging at his straight brows. “May I have the honour?” Jimin said not a word, his voice spoke in actions. He placed his smaller hand in Mr. Bingley’s. The older male bringing him to where the dancing began.

 “Do you dance Mr. Darcy?” I queried, watching Mr. Bingley and my brother dance together.

 “Not if I can help it,” Mr. Darcy replied, the conversation no having nowhere left to turn. We were left in hazy silence listening to those around us. Women and men were locked in conversation, exchanging pleasantries with one another. I listened contently to the conversations, until Hoseok and Taehyung wandered past screaming about officers as walked away from Mr. Darcy.

 Taehyung was scheming about how to talk to them, giving Hoseok ‘advice’ to woo them. I shook my head, my index fingers pressed to the side of my nose as I listen to them shrill. “I dear say you have some of the silliest brothers I have met, dearest Gracie,” Chan smiled. He held his arm out for me which I took.

 “Don’t I just?” Chan and I turned away from the rest of the festivities. We stood behind a lavish marble pillar decorated with iron leaves curling around it. The old metal a shade of jade green from age. I was almost tempted to lean against it due to fatigue, the night had only just begun though. Instead I stood beside it fiddling with one of the metal leaves as Chan and I conversed. His voice soft and happy, always glad to see me. We had been friends for what felt like centuries now. In actual fact it had been twenty years, the pair childhood friends.

 Chan stopped talking as he spied Mr. Bingley walking along the outer rim of the crowd. Gently he pushed me aside, the marble pillar obscuring me from vision as we listened into the passing conversation. I couldn’t help but bite my already pink lip.

 “Oh, he is the most beautiful creature I have ever met!” Mr Bingley exclaimed happily. I couldn’t help but feel my heart swell for my brother out of family pride. A large toothy smile brimming forth. “Her sister Elizabeth is very agreeable too,”

 “Perfectly tolerable, but not nearly pretty enough to tempt me.” My smile fell, just like the elated feeling in my stomach did too. Everything dropped, my stomach was at my feet and it felt as if the sides of my lips were at my collars, my eyes trained to Chan’s shoes. I shook my head, the rudeness of that man! How could anyone be so rude? I had never been insulted in such a way before and it angered me greatly, but mostly I was upset.

 “Ignore him, Lizzie, he is such a disagreeable man it would be a misfortune to be liked by him.”

 “I would not dance with him for even half of Derbyshire,”

 “Let alone the miserable side,” Chan quipped in mischievously causing the mood to lift. We stifled our laughter.

 ~

  Later on, I found myself back in the company of the despised Mr. Darcy. His companion Mr. Bingley and my mother. Bingley had just finished dancing with Chan, my friend already finding another partner to dance with. He had no trouble attracting attention with his wit, poise and elegance. I do hope someone would offer for his hand in matrimony, he would make a lovely husband. ‘Twas a shame however, the hole time Bingley danced alongside Chan his eyes were on my brother. He had clearly fallen for Jimin as many men had before. “Your friend is quite amusing Miss Bennet,”

 “Indeed,” I laughed, “I adore him -,”

 “It’s a pity he isn’t more handsome,” Mother added, patting me on the arm.

 “Mama!” I protested. Jimin who had joined us gave a confused look unsure as to why I had cried out.

 “Y/N will never admit he’s plain,” Mother turned to Mr. Bingley; “Of course it’s my Jimin who is considered the beauty of the country,”

 Jimin sighed; “Mama, please,”

 “When she was only fifteen there was a gentleman so much in love with her that I was sure he would make her an offer. However, he did write her some very pretty verses.” Jimin blushed brightly shaking her head out of embarrassment. Though all the Bennet siblings loved their mother dearly they detested her lack of empathy in social situations such as these.

 “And so, their relationship ended. I wonder who first discovered poetry drove love away?” I smiled, trying my best to change the conversation away from the startled Jimin.

 “I thought that poetry was the food of love?” Darcy raised a brow to me.

 “If it’s a strong love it may. It nourishes what is strong already. But if it is only a thin, slight sort of inclination, I'm convinced that one good sonnet will starve it away entirely.” I spoke. Mr Darcy looked towards me, his features changed rather than that of distain, unpatinated and uninterested he seemed, well, interested.

 “What would one recommend then?”

 “Oh, dancing of course,” I smiled, “Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.”

TO BE CONTINUED 

[valeriebielbooks]

13 Witchy Books for a Magical Month

They say you write what you want to read, and I’m no exception. I love some goodold-fashioned (and newly imagined) witchy magic at any time of year but particularly as we enjoy the days leading up to Halloween. No matter your age, here are some fabulous witchy tales to enjoy this month. (I didn’t include the Harry Potter series because it’s a given that these books should lead any list in the witching/wizarding world.)

Picture Books

Room on the Broom by Julia Donaldson and Axel Sheffler

The witch and her cat are happily flying through the sky on a broomstick when the wind picks up and blows away the witch's hat, then her bow, and then her wand!  Luckily, three helpful animals find the missing items, and all they want in return is a ride on the broom. But is there room on the broom for so many friends? Copy And when disaster strikes, will they be able to save the witch from a hungry dragon?

To purchase:  PAPERBACK     HARDCOVER

Piggie Pie by Margie Palatini and Howard Fine

Gritch the Witch is grouchy, grumpy, and very hungry. The only thing that could make her happy is something extra special for lunch, and that is: Piggie Pie! Gritch zooms off on her broomstick to find eight plump piggies -- where else? -- on Old MacDonald's Farm. Cleverly disguised pigs impersonate ducks, chickens, a cow, and Old MacDonald himself, as this uproarious, quick-paced story builds to an ironically surprising conclusion. Wacky, hip, and illustrated with bold, bright paintings, "Piggie Pie" adds a new twist to an old fairy-tale scene.

To purchase:  PAPERBACK       HARDCOVER

Big Pumpkin by Erica Silverman and S.D. Schindler

Once there was a witch who longed for pumpkin pie. Unfortunately, the pumpkin she had grown from a seed became so big she simply couldn't get it off the vine. Although "she pulled and she tugged and she pulled...that pumpkin just sat." Along came a ghost. "I am bigger than you and stronger, too," said he. "Let me try." Well, the witch wanted that whole pumpkin for herself. But she needed help -- Halloween was just hours away... With the rhythm and repetition that children love, Erica Silverman tells a rollicking story about a witch who, through her encounter with a ghost and other spooky creatures, discovers both the value of cooperating and the joy of sharing. S.D. Schindler brings this captivating crew to life in spirited paintings that are as warm as they are funny.

To purchase:   PAPERBACK       HARDCOVER

Middle Grade

The Little Witch by Anna Elizabeth Bennett

In print for the first time in thirty years is Anna Elizabeth’s Bennett classic tale of a little witch who dreams of becoming normal girl.  

To purchase:   PAPERBACK       eBOOK    

The Witches by Roald Dahl

This is not a fairy tale. This is about real witches. Grandmamma loves to tell about witches. Real witches are the most dangerous of all living creatures on earth. There's nothing they hate so much as children, and they work all kinds of terrifying spells to get rid of them. Her grandson listens closely to Grandmamma's stories—but nothing can prepare him for the day he comes face-to-face with The Grand High Witch herself!

To Purchase:   PAPERBACK    HARDCOVER     eBOOK

The Worst Witch by Jill Murphy

Mildred Hubble is starting her first year at Miss Cackle’s Academy for Witches — and making a mess of it! She can’t ride her broomstick without crashing, she’s always getting her spells mixed up, and worst of all, the teacher’s pet, Ethel, has just become her sworn enemy.

To Purchase:   PAPERBACK     HARDCOVER     eBOOK

The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare

Sixteen-year-old Kit Tyler is marked by suspicion and disapproval from the moment she arrives on the unfamiliar shores of colonial Connecticut in 1687. Alone and desperate, she has been forced to leave her beloved home on the island of Barbados and join a family she has never met. Torn between her quest for belonging and her desire to be true to herself, Kit struggles to survive in a hostile place. Just when it seems she must give up, she finds a kindred spirit. But Kit’s friendship with Hannah Tupper, believed by the colonists to be a witch, proves more taboo than she could have imagined and ultimately forces Kit to choose between her heart and her duty.

To Purchase:   PAPERBACK   HARDCOVER   eBOOK

Young Adult

Hex Hall series by Rachel Hawkins

Three years ago, Sophie Mercer discovered that she is a witch. Her non-gifted mother has been supportive, consulting Sophie’s estranged father—a warlock—only when necessary. But when Sophie attracts too much human attention for a prom-night spell gone horribly wrong, it’s her dad who exiles her to “Hex Hall”, an isolated reform school for wayward Prodigium, a.k.a. witches, fairies, and shape-shifters. By the end of her first day, Sophie has three new enemies, a futile crush on a warlock, a tagalong ghost, and a vampire roommate. Worse, Sophie soon learns that an unknown predator has been attacking students. As a series of blood-curdling mysteries converges, Sophie prepares for the biggest threat of all: an ancient secret society determined to destroy all Prodigium, especially her.

To Purchase:   HARDCOVER   eBOOK

Beautiful Creatures series by Kami Garcia & Margaret Stohl

Lena Duchannes is unlike anyone the small Southern town of  Gatlin  has ever seen, and she's struggling to conceal her power, and a curse that has haunted her family for generations. But even within the overgrown gardens, murky swamps and crumbling graveyards of the forgotten South, a secret cannot stay hidden forever. Ethan Wate, who has been counting the months until he can escape from Gatlin, is haunted by dreams of a beautiful girl he has never met. When  Lena  moves into the town's oldest and most infamous plantation, Ethan is inexplicably drawn to her and determined to uncover the connection between them. In a town with no surprises, one secret could change everything.

To Purchase:   PAPERBACK     eBOOK

Sweep series by Cate Tiernan

Morgan Rowlands never thought she was anything other than a typical sixteen-year-old girl. But when she meets Cal, a captivatingly handsome coven leader, she makes a discovery that turns her whole world upside down: she is a witch, descended from an ancient and powerful line. And so is Cal. Their connection is immediate and unbreakable; Cal teases out Morgan's power, her love, her magick. But Morgan discovers too soon that her powers are strong, almost too powerful to control. And she begins to suspect that Cal may be keeping secrets from her . . . secrets that could destroy them both.

To Purchase:   PAPERBACK   eBOOK

Adult Fiction

Practical Magic by Alice Hoffman

For more than two hundred years, the Owens women have been blamed for everything that has gone wrong in their Massachusetts town. Gillian and Sally have endured that fate as well: as children, the sisters were forever outsiders, taunted, talked about, pointed at. Their elderly aunts almost seemed to encourage the whispers of witchery, with their musty house and their exotic concoctions and their crowd of black cats. But all Gillian and Sally wanted was to escape. One will do so by marrying, the other by running away. But the bonds they share will bring them back—almost as if by magic...

To Purchase:     PAPERBACK     eBOOK

The All Souls Trilogy by Deborah Harkness

In this tale of passion and obsession, Diana Bishop, a young scholar and a descendant of witches, discovers a long-lost and enchanted alchemical manuscript, Ashmole 782, deep in Oxford's Bodleian Library. Its reappearance summons a fantastical underworld, which she navigates with her leading man, vampire geneticist Matthew Clairmont. Harkness has created a universe to rival those of Anne Rice, Diana Gabaldon, and Elizabeth Kostova, and she adds a scholar's depth to this riveting tale of magic and suspense. The story continues in book two, Shadow of Night, and concludes with The Book of Life.

To Purchase Book One "A Discovery of Witches":   PAPERBACK      eBOOK

Cousins O’Dwyer Series by Nora Roberts (Dark Witch, Shadow Spell, Blood Magick)

From Book 1: With indifferent parents, Iona Sheehan grew up craving devotion and acceptance. From her maternal grandmother, she learned where to find both: a land of lush forests, dazzling lakes, and centuries-old legends. Ireland. County Mayo, to be exact. Where her ancestors’ blood and magic have flowed through generations—and where her destiny awaits.

Iona arrives in Ireland with nothing but her Nan’s directions, an unfailingly optimistic attitude, and an innate talent with horses. Not far from the luxurious castle where she is spending a week, she finds her cousins, Branna and Connor O’Dwyer. And since family is family, they invite her into their home and their lives.

When Iona lands a job at the local stables, she meets the owner, Boyle McGrath. Cowboy, pirate, wild tribal horseman, he’s three of her biggest fantasy weaknesses all in one big, bold package.

Iona realizes that here she can make a home for herself—and live her life as she wants, even if that means falling head over heels for Boyle. But nothing is as it seems. An ancient evil has wound its way around Iona’s family tree and must be defeated. Family and friends will fight with each other and for each other to keep the promise of hope—and love—alive…

To Purchase Book One "Dark Witch":         PAPERBACK   eBOOK

To Purchase Book Two "Shadow Spell":     PAPERBACK    eBOOK

To Purchase Book Three "Blood Magick":   PAPERBACK    eBOOK

What are your favorite witchy reads?? Please share!

Happy Reading, Valerie

[the-record-columns]

Feb. 13, 2019: Columns

She gave much, but asked little

Editor’s note: This column originally appeared in a slightly different form on Feb. 17, 2009)

           Willa Mae Lankford

By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

Lifelong Millers Creek resident Willa Mae Lankford, widow of Sammie Lankford died Thursday, February 12 (2009).  

Willa Mae died as she lived, peacefully, and surrounded by those who loved her.

Her son, Jerry Lankford, is the editor of The Record.  What follows was adapted from remarks I made at Willa Mae’s funeral service on Sunday, Feb. 15, 2009, at the Arbor Grove United Methodist Church in Purlear.  The service was conducted by Rev. Ed McKinney, and special music was provided by David Johnson, Eric Ellis, and Keith Watts, longtime friends of the Lankford family.

                                                        ***

David, Eric, and Keith make that music look easy, don’t they, but it sure isn’t. As they played, I couldn’t help but remember the little half-smile that would come over Willa Mae’s face, much like the one on this page, when she would listen to her son, Jerry, or one of her grandchildren play music.  She enjoyed listening, then combined that enjoyment with the feeling of pride only a mother and grandmother can know.  

I actually came to know Willa Mae Lankford because of her son, Jerry, and much of what I say today revolves around that.

A bit over 10 years ago (20 years now), a man stopped me and asked when I was going to turn Thursday Magazine into a newspaper—I replied that I was looking for the right person to do just that.  He inquired further, and I told him I was looking for a man in his 30’s who had newspaper experience outside Wilkes County, and who might be in a situation with aging parents or something and looking to settle back down in Wilkes.

“I know that man,” he replied, “I know exactly that man.”  

In my mind I said “Sure you do,” and told him just to have that fella call me.

Well folks, about four hours later, that very same day, I got a phone call from a man who identified himself as Jerry Lankford, and who began the conversation with, “I understand you might like to start a newspaper.”

The rest, as I like to say, is history.  Very soon, after Jerry began working with us, The Record began publishing and thankfully, continues to do so. There is an aside I must tell on Jerry, however. We agreed that he was to give a two week notice to his employer the following Friday.  That afternoon, he came by my office to tell me when he gave his notice that they sent him home on the spot.  I told him not to worry, just come on in on Monday and we would just start work a little earlier than planned. So you see, his first day at work on his new job was a day off.  Pretty good deal, huh.

Particularly in the earliest years of The Record, circumstances called for me to spend many, many late hours with Jerry Lankford. Anytime we were anywhere near Kite Road in Millers Creek, we would stop in for a visit with his mother. As long as I knew her, she was in fragile health.  As the years went by, more and more things went wrong and she became noticeably weaker and weaker.

But her spirit remained strong.  I never heard her complain, in fact, she was always asking how I was doing—most especially after I suffered a stroke some years ago.

And, she stayed busy.

Unable to get around very well, she was always making something with her hands.  I guess it was from all those years at the City Florist, working and talking with that wonderful gaggle of ladies who we all knew by sight, if not by name.  In fact, one of the gifts I enjoy most came from Willa Mae—not counting Jerry, of course. One day he brought me a package about the size of a bowling ball and said simply, “My mother made this for you.” Inside was a multi-sided quilted star. “It is to be used as a doorstop.” Jerry said.

It was amazing.

You can look and look and you can’t find a starting place, or a stopping place, and I still have no idea how she put that thing together, but it’s beautiful, and remains one of the most noticed items in my home, and a gift I’ll always treasure.  

And that was Willa Mae.

She gave much of herself and asked for little.  

She loved her husband, her children, and her grandchildren.

And she loved the people of Arbor Grove Methodist Church so much.

To Ellen, Mike (now also deceased), and to my good friend, Jerry, I must be honest and tell you that nothing will ever be quite the same for you again.  But hold on to those wonderful memories of your mother, indeed, wrap yourselves in them, for they will carry you through a lot.

Willa Mae Lankford—a kind and caring soul if ever there was one.  

Clearly, she rests in peace.

                                             Willa Mae Lankford

                                    Nov. 9, 1926 – Feb. 12, 2009

Gentlemen of the Jury…

By HEATHER DEAN

Record Reporter

Next week I will be performing with Alleghany Community Theatre as they present “12 Angry Jurors” in the historic courthouses of Sparta, N.C., and Independence, Va.

Readers may remember the original title of “12 Angry Men,” a stage play written by Reginald Rose, which was also adapted to a 1957 movie starring Henry Fonda.

Over the years the title has changed in production as women have been allowed to be seen as competent jurors. But that wasn’t always the case.

Even though women have served on juries for over 100 years, it was considered more of a novelty, which quickly turned to critique, with national newspapers lamenting that “men would be only too happy to cede the burden of jury service to women, if only female jurors could be trusted to endure the gruesome business.” And so the “woman of the jury experiment” began. The results? Good female jurors were conscientious and committed to justice, just like their male counterparts (gasp!).

For those not familiar with the show, the plot revolves around the murder trail of a Latino teenager accused of murdering his abusive father. His conviction would mean execution by electric chair.  The case seems open and shut with a murder weapon and witnesses to place the boy at the scene of the crime. One lone juror, attempts to prevent a miscarriage of justice by forcing his colleagues to reconsider the evidence “beyond a reasonable doubt.”

As the case unfolds more is learned about each juror, in some cases, the paranoia and prejudices that expose the ugliness of white privilege and imagined American supremacy.

I play juror 11, an immigrant watchmaker and naturalized American citizen who demonstrates a strong patriotic pride. (George Voskovec had this part in the 1957 film).

Voskovec was a Czech actor, writer, dramatist, and director who became an American citizen in 1955.

I am the fourth to cast a not guilty vote, but not without repercussion. Prejudice runs amok among the jurors, and my character at one point is questioned because I am not a “real American.” One juror even throws up the fact that I ran for my life during the Second World War, taking advantage of the American Immigration system, doubtful that I was really a refugee, and that I had no right to come over here, or even serve on a jury, and I certainly did not get to tell them how the Constitution works. She follows this up with a threat to “knock my GD middle-eastern head off” if I don’t shut up. Needless to say, our characters have quite a row after that exchange. In fact, a lot of murder threats get thrown around to other jurors, making our task at hand seem like the background noise to the real issue of the intricate divisiveness of human nature when questioned with what it is to “be a good American.”

This play is both eye opening and disheartening to me. Even though human compassion wins in the end, kind of, the relentless diatribe of how of a kid literally from the wrong side of the tracks, because of his skin color, his nationality, and his lack of being able to speak English is ENOUGH for the many of this jury to dismiss him and actually be happy about sending him to his demise, to keep the country “clean.”

The absolute prejudice shown in the 50’s is still being shown today, most recently with a supposed crisis at the border. The vitriol spouted in this play is the same we still hear on national news 60 years later. I get chill bumps at some of the lines realizing that the more things change, the more they stay the same, and that we have a humanitarian duty to make sure the cruel side of history stops with us.  

To quote Henry Fonda’s character’s closing line “Let them live.”

 12 Angry Jurors is presented by Alleghany Community Theatre and Alleghany Arts Council and is directed by Danny Linehan. Tickets are $8 adults, $5 students. Friday Feb. 22, and Saturday Feb. 23, shows are at 7 p.m. at the Alleghany Courthouse, 12 N Main St Sparta, NC 28675. Sunday Feb. 24, show is at 2 p.m., at the Old Grayson courthouse in Independence, Virginia, 107 E Main St, Independence, VA 24348.

 Cast includes: Foreman (An assistant football coach): Lori Hirschy; Juror Two (A shy bank clerk): Beka Perry; Juror Three (Small business owner): Kevin Bennett; Juror Four (Stock Broker): Brant Burgiss; Juror Five (EMT in a Harlem Hospital): Zach Weaver; Juror Six ( Housepainter): Charlie Scott; Juror Seven (Marmalade salesman): Laura Kennedy; Juror Eight (Architect): Danny Linehan; Juror Nine (Elderly Retiree): Marion Adams; Juror Ten (Mechanic): Donny McCall; Juror Eleven (Immigrant Watchmaker): Heather Dean; Juror Twelve (Marketing Agent): Michael Bridges.

  Anti-Semitic Strategy at the UN ​

By EARL COX

Special to The Record

At first glance, the recent G-77 gathering seemed like a “Saturday Night Live” parody of the UN’ s largest bloc. The new chairman, with rehearsed political correctness, to smiles and applause, called on “all states” (except his) to end the “epidemic” of terrorism and “work with us to put an end to this scourge.”

The speaker was Palestinian Authority President and PLO chairman Mahmoud Abbas— infamous inciter and propagator of violence and terror against the sovereign State of Israel, and bankroller of Palestinian terrorism to the tune of more than US $138 million to terrorist prisoners and ex-convicts in 2018 alone.

Abbas’s chairmanship, which violates G-77 principles and the UN Charter, is the latest blight on the UN’s eroded legitimacy and credibility. Created to safeguard world peace, security, human rights, and the sovereign equality of states by peaceful dispute resolution, the UN has been hijacked by an anti-Semitic, terror-tainted political agenda—discrediting itself by violating its own charter.

How did this sorry state of affairs develop? And what can be done by those states who are committed to the UN’s ethical, democratic founding principles?

Anti-Semitism at the UN began not randomly, but as a deliberate strategy. Some historians believe it started after Israel won the Six-Day War in June 1967, damaging Russian prestige at home and abroad. The Soviets, enraged by Israel’s defeat of its proxies Egypt and Syria, retaliated, aiming its Cold War weapons of propaganda and disinformation against the Jewish State—by a state-sponsored vilification campaign against Israel and Jews, and then at the UN, where it forged a political alliance with Arab and Third World states. Starting in 1969, the General Assembly produced multiple resolutions affirming the “inalienable rights of the Palestinian people.”

Russia uses language for totalitarian social control, said historian Joel Fishman. Following the Six-Day War, the selected vocabulary was published in the party newspaper Komsomolskaya Pravda in October 1967: “Zionism is dedicated to genocide, racism, treachery, aggression, and annexation ...attributes of fascists.” In 1975, the Soviet- Arab bloc passed GA Resolution 3379, “Zionism is Racism."

But historian Joel Fishman said Resolution 3379 was brewing in 1964—before the Six-Day War. In March of that year, the U.S.proposed that the UN recognize anti-Semitism as a form of racism along with apartheid and Nazism. The Soviets stonewalled, because they were, after all, anti-Semites who persecuted Soviet Jews, Fishman said. They threatened the United States to drop the proposal or face a Russian amendment condemning Zionism and Nazism—thus equating the two.

In October 1965, the US pushed an amendment to the final draft condemning anti-Semitism, but the Soviets insisted on adding“Zionism” to the forms of racism to condemn. After a bitter debate, a compromise struck all references to racism except apartheid. Thus, the Soviets succeeded in excluding anti-Semitism as racist without leaving behind a voting record—which could augur future charges against its own state-sponsored anti-Semitism.

The 1965 debates critically impacted evolving world opinion and international law on Israel and Zionism. “From then on, it was almost impossible to raise anti-Semitism as a human rights issue,” Fishman said. Thus Soviet political propaganda became a bridge to today’s global outbreak.

For the Soviets, the Cold War never really ended. Recent revelations of their digital disinformation and propaganda are well-publicized.

But neither has the UN been a passive instrument of Soviet manipulation. Israeli Major General (res.) Yaakov Amidror recalled how UN Secretary General U Thant endorsed President Nasser’s request to withdraw UN forces from the Sinai. Nasser replaced them with Egyptian military divisions, helping to spark the Six-Day War. And that’s just one example of UN complicity against Israel.

 Israel’s concerted relationship-building with individual nations, and delegations of visiting UN ambassadors to see and experience the “real” Israel firsthand, are part of the solution to return to the UN Charter principle of friendly relations between nations. Likewise, while keeping an eye on Russia, Western democracies should continue to strengthen democratic blocs of nations to defend against the real “scourge.”

At all costs, the truth must be published. What does Israel or the US gain from “dialogue” in a tilted UN that could be better served by bilateral or Western-bloc diplomacy? 

 Heart to Heart

By CARL WHITE

Life in the Carolinas

The past few weeks have been exciting and entertaining.

The Carolinas are well known for seasonal abnormalities. It’s not odd to have near recording breaking cold weather for a few days and then Spring-like weather. Just enough to tease our spring flowering plant life and then in the twinkling of an eye it’s cold again.

So, it goes in the Carolinas, we are people with many layers, and those layers come in handy during our winter months. We also love metaphors, and a colorful story fills the need we have to be a good storyteller or a great listener. The need for both is never-ending.

While in the barber’s chair last week, Garry, my barber, had big news. It looks like he may have a brother he is just now learning about. I asked him if he was excited about having a new brother. He said he was; however, the idea is so new he is still processing the emotions that come along with such a discovery.

Josh, Garry’s son and the fellow barber said they have been invited to visit their new northern family member.  Garry is not much for long-distance travel; his heart indeed is in the Carolinas, and he is not excited about venturing too far away from the land he calls home.  

In the style of true Southern Hospitality, an invitation will soon be extended to the brother from afar. From what I understand hints have already been given by the new brother that suggest an invite and visit to the Carolinas would be welcomed.  

Bill Barns ask for my thoughts on his new book that is in the final stages before publishing. The first sentence of Chapter One is “One beautiful, moonlit night, a young mother opossum known as Oden was out in the woods foraging for food.”  

I plan to read every word.

I had the opportunity to take in a few live shows. One was an open mic night at The 1915 in Wilkesboro, and the other was at the Reeves Theater in Elkin NC. The Reeves Theater is the subject of one of our broadcast segments that we are calling The Carolina Theater Trail. The segment series will be part of our Life In The Carolinas syndicated show. Over the next few years, we will be producing segments on historically significant Theaters in the Carolinas. We have a good variety of theaters to choose, and each one plays a vital role in our charming towns in the Carolinas.

I enjoyed dinner with Ken Welborn, publisher, and friend who loves the Carolinas with a strong focus on Wilkes County. It’s never a dull visit with Ken. The food and service at Sixth and Main in North Wilkesboro is excellent. I enjoyed the crab cakes with asparagus and baby potatoes. Ken dined on and spoke well about the salmon and vegetables. I think digestion works better when you have dinner with a well-seasoned storyteller.

In celebration of February as the Heart Month, we had Dr. Julian Thomas as a guest on the Life In The Carolinas Podcast. We titled the episode Heart to Heart. The special show focused on the journey of dealing with matters of the heart. Dr. Thomas is brilliant, and his approach to healthcare is driven by promoting awareness and a passion for healing.

Wherever we find ourselves, it’s a good idea to stop for a moment and share our lives with those we are around. The love month can be demanding, but it can also be gentle, kind and full of passion.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

 Carl White is the Executive Producer and Host of the award-winning syndicated TV show Carl White’s Life In The Carolinas. The weekly show is now in its 10th year of syndication and can be seen in the Charlotte market on WJZY Fox 46 Saturday’s at noon and My40. The show also streams on Amazon Prime. For more information visit www.lifeinthecarolinas.com. You can email Carl at Carl@lifeinthecarolinas.com.

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Heres Everything Youve Ever Wanted To Know About The JonBent Ramsey Murder

—

1. JonBenét’s first name is what is know as a “portmanteau” given that her name is a combination of her father’s first and middle name, creating a completely new name.

2. JonBenét was a decorated beauty pageant contestant winning titles such as Little Miss Colorado, Little Miss Charlevoix, Colorado State All-Star Kids Cover Girl, America’s Royale Miss, and National Tiny Miss Beauty.

JonBenét, photograhped for a pageant. (Wikipedia)

3. Investigators found 38 registered sex offenders within a 1.8 mile radius of the Ramsey’s Boulder, Colorado home.

4. Jon Bennett Ramsey, JonBenét’s father, was the President and Chief Executive Officer of Access Graphics, a computer services company. In 1996, the same year as JonBenét’s murder, Access Graphics grossed over $1 billion, and he was named “Entrepreneur of the Year” by the Boulder Chamber of Commerce.

5. Although JonBenét’s half brother from her father’s first marriage spent half of Christmas day with the Ramseys, her parents Patsy and John and 9-year-old brother Burke are the only people known to have been in the family home the night of her murder.

Burke, Patsy, and JonBenét Ramsey. (Splash News)

6. At 5:52 AM on the morning of December 26th, 1996, Patsy called 911 to report her daughter was missing after finding a two page ransom note on the back staircase of the family house, allegedly to be from someone who had kidnapped JonBenét in the middle of the night.

7. There was a phone call prior to Patsy’s from the Ramsey household to 911, but whoever made that phone call immediately hung up.

8. The ransom note is a point of suspicion for many people, given that it was proven to have been written in the Ramsey household, a “practice” ransom letter was found, and several handwriting analysis experts have determined it was very probable that Patsy herself wrote the letter.

9. The letter reads as follows:

Mr. Ramsey,

Listen carefully! We are a group of individuals that represent a small foreign faction. We do respect your bussiness [sic] but not the country that it serves. At this time we have your daughter in our posession [sic]. She is safe and unharmed and if you want her to see 1997, you must follow our instructions to the letter.

You will withdraw $118,000.00 from your account. $100,000 will be in $100 bills and the remaining $18,000 in $20 bills. Make sure that you bring an adequate size attache to the bank. When you get home you will put the money in a brown paper bag. I will call you between 8 and 10 am tomorrow to instruct you on delivery. The delivery will be exhausting so I advise you to be rested. If we monitor you getting the money early, we might call you early to arrange an earlier delivery of the money and hence a [sic] earlier delivery pick-up of your daughter.

Any deviation of my instructions will result in the immediate execution of your daughter. You will also be denied her remains for proper burial. The two gentlemen watching over your daughter do not particularly like you so I advise you not to provoke them. Speaking to anyone about your situation, such as Police, F.B.I., etc., will result in your daughter being beheaded. If we catch you talking to a stray dog, she dies. If you alert bank authorities, she dies. If the money is in any way marked or tampered with, she dies. You will be scanned for electronic devices and if any are found, she dies. You can try to deceive us but be warned that we are familiar with law enforcement countermeasures and tactics. You stand a 99% chance of killing your daughter if you try to out smart [sic] us. Follow our instructions and you stand a 100% chance of getting her back.

You and your family are under constant scrutiny as well as the authorities. Don’t try to grow a brain John. You are not the only fat cat around so don’t think that killing will be difficult. Don’t underestimate us John. Use that good southern common sense of yours. It is up to you now John!

Victory!

S.B.T.C

10. Another point of suspicion in regards to the ransom letter is the specificity of the amount of money. It was almost the exact amount of what John Ramsey’s Christmas bonus had been that year.

11. Despite being instructed not to contact anyone in the ransom letter, Patsy called the authorities as well and friends and family to alert them to her daughter’s disappearance.

12. When police entered the house they did a cursory search, but after failing to find any sign of a break in, struggle, or forced entry, only sectioned of JonBenét’s room and treated the scene as a kidnapping.

The Ramsey Home in Boulder (Jennifer Boyer)

13. Because the murder took place during Christmas, there were fewer police available to take statements from the Ramsey family and to secure the house. This lead to JonBenét’s room not being properly sectioned off, friends and family coming and going from the house contaminating the scene, and other missteps that basically made any DNA evidence unusable.

14. During a 2015 Reddit AMA, former Police Chief Mark Beckner said, “As for the police department in general, I wish we would have done a much better job of securing and controlling the crime scene on day one…We also should have separated John and Patsy and gotten full statements from them that day.”

15. At 1 PM Boulder Police Detective Linda Arndt suggested that John Ramsey and his friend Fleet White search through the house to see if they could spot if “anything seemed amiss.” While looking through the basement, the two men discovered the body of JonBenét.

15. JonBenét was bound by her wrists and ankles with a nylon cord, had duct tape over her mouth, and was covered in a white blanket. John Ramsey immediately carried her upstairs and Detective Arndt moved her into the living room.

16. Patsy claimed the clothes JonBenét was found in (white t-shirt and leggings) were not what she had put her daughter to bed wearing the night before.

18. The autopsy report showed that JoneBenét had been killed by strangulation (likely with the nylon cord wrapped around her neck) and also had a skull fracture. Her vaginal area had been wiped down, but there wasn’t any physical evidence of “conventional rape.” There was some sort of undigested fruit, thought to potentially be pineapple, in her stomach that had been consumed just a few hours before she died.

19. In photographs taken of the Ramsey household, there was a bowl of pineapple with a spoon on the kitchen table. The bowl and the spoon were covered in 9-year-old Burke’s fingerprints. Both John and Patsy said they had no memory of putting pineapple out for either of their children, and adamantly maintained that Burke had been asleep the entire night and woke up several hours after they called the police to report JonBenét missing.

The pineapple with milk, photographed during the 1996 investigation. (CBS)

20. After calling 911, Patsy thought she had hung up the phone but it was actually still on the line for a few seconds and voices were audible.

21. On the 911 call voices can be heard in the background during those seconds when the phone was not actually hung up. Some speculate that they can hear Patsy saying, “Help me Jesus,” or “What did you do?” and man, maybe John Ramsey, saying, “We’re not speaking to you.”

22. Kimberly Archuleta, the 911 dispatcher who took Patsy Ramsey’s call, was not questioned by the police.

23. Burke Ramsey, when questioned by the police about what happened to JonBenét, maintained (both as a child and to this day) that he was in bed when the 911 call was made.

25. A window in the basement was found to be broken, however it didn’t seem likely to be an actual, feasible point of entry for a break in. The window remained quite dirty (an intruder would have likely wiped most of the debris away while sliding through), it wasn’t actually found to be open at the time of investigation (reports vary on this), and a spider web in the corner was completely undisturbed.

26. It was however reported that there were “two sets of unidentifiable footprints” and a “palm print on the cellar door” in the basement where JonBenét’s body was found.

27. In 1999 there was an indictment against the Ramseys for two counts of child neglect that resulted in the death of JonBenét. However, District Attorney Alex Hunter refused to sign off on the documents stating lack of evidence, and therefore they were never actually indicted and/or prosecuted.

John and Patsy Ramsey during a local interview in 1997. (YouTube)

28. There was (and continues to be) wild speculation that JonBenét had been sexually abused/assaulted, both during her life and during her murder. When she was around 3 years old she was brought to the doctor for vaginal irritation, but her parents and the doctor stated that was simply from an allergic reaction to bubble bath. JonBenét was also a known bedwetter, which can be a sign of trauma and abuse in children. Lastly, although no seminal fluid was found there did appear to be vaginal trauma on her body during the autopsy. All of this has lead to the speculation that there was a sexual component to the crime.

29. In 2003 investigators found DNA evidence from a droplet of blood that was found in/on JonBenét’s underwear. The DNA was from an unknown male, not related to the Ramseys. While the DNA has been put into the FBI database so far it has lead to no new leads and no new developments.

30. One of the popular suspects was the “Santa Claus” suspect. A man named Bill McReynolds, who played Santa Claus along with his wife, Janet, who played Mrs. Claus, was at the Ramsey home just two days before JonBenét’s death. McReynolds described feeling very close to JonBenét and allegedly gave her a card that said, “You will receive a special gift after Christmas.” Mrs. McReynolds also wrote a play about a child who is murdered and their body is discovered in a basement. But despite these coincidences, as chilling as they may be, no other evidence was found to tie McReynolds to the case. McReynolds died at age 72 of a heart attack in 2002.

31. Lou Smit, a detective who came out of retirement to assist the District Attorney’s office with the case in early 1997, has stated that one of his main suspects is Gary Oliva. Oliva, a registered sex offender, was found with a photo of JonBenét in his backpack when he was arrested on drug charges in 2000. Oliva said of the photograph, “I feel she was an exceptional girl whose death was an exceptional loss. I felt the need to build a monument, a shrine, to remember this little girl.”

32. Michael Vail, a friend of Oliva’s, came forward to magazine with the information that just a day after the 1996 murder Oliva called him in distress saying, “I hurt a little girl, I hurt a little girl.” However, the DNA evidence was not a match to Oliva’s.

33. In 2006 at the age of 49, Patsy Ramsey died of ovarian cancer. She was buried at St. James Episcopal Cemetery in Marietta, Georgia, next to JonBenét.

JonBenét’s Grave. (Wikipedia)

34. 10 years after the murder, John Mark Karr confessed via email to murdering JonBenét to a journalism professor named Michael Tracey. Tracey had been emailing with Karr for over 4 years in order to gain his trust.

35. In the emails sent to Tracey, Karr used vernacular similar to that which was used in the ransom note left at the Ramsey house. He also called Patsy by a nickname, “Neddie”, that it was strange he would even have knowledge of. Eventually, Karr confessed to being in love with JonBenét and that on that night in December, he hit her over the head with a flashlight.

36. In a conversation with Tracey about the murder Karr said,

“I guess I might have just kind of had like a nervous breakdown at that point, I think I must have. I think I must have had really something kind of clicked in my head and I kind of lost it, really lost it. I mean, I just started really feeling strange and I just kept looking up at her.

And then all of sudden it was like now she was dead and she once was this little girl, but now she was like a holy deity; she was just like a goddess at that point.

She was beyond a child; she was just like when Jesus died on the cross… and when Jesus died on the cross he transcended from being a man to being something immortal, and that’s what she became to me.

I don’t give damn if anyone understand it or not….

I just looked up at her I though I just want to worship her…she’s my goddess…”

37. On August 16, 2008, with the assistance of British Intelligence and the Royal Thai Authorities, the US Department of Homeland Security was able to locate Karr in Bangkok where he had traveled to avoid child pornography charges from the state of California.

John Mark Karr in an interview post-confession. (YouTube)

38. A few months after Karr’s confession, Boulder County District Attorney Mary Lacy issued a formal apology to John Ramsey and his family saying, “No one in the Ramsey family is considered a suspect.”

39. Despite his confession, Karr’s DNA did not match the DNA found at the scene of the crime, and he was never charged.

40. Furthermore, Former Police Chief Mark Beckner said of Karr and Mary Lacy, “My gut reaction was that Mary Lacy did not know the facts of the case and was making a big mistake. His confession, once they shared it with us, did not match the evidence at the scene. After she asked for our help in proving he did it, we knew in about 18 hours he was not the guy. We were able to confirm he was not even in Colorado at the time by just doing some routine checking and then obtained photos of him in Georgia at the time.”

41. In the CBS documentary special , DNA specialist Dr. Henry Lee revisited the DNA found on JonBenét’s underwear. Lee concluded that it was highly possible that the DNA found was transfer DNA from the manufacturer, and proved this by testing an unopened bag of underwear that ended up also containing trace DNA. This meant that the DNA evidence wasn’t conclusive, and any prior suspects could in fact be JonBenét’s killer despite previously being ruled out when they were not a DNA match.

42. A popular theory is that Patsy Ramsey, known to be a strict mother, accidentally killed JonBenét while reprimanding her for wetting the bed. This, coupled with the fact that several experts say that the ransom note was written by a woman, lead people to assume Patsy’s guilt.

43. Another theory, greatly reinforced by the CBS special, says that Burke Ramsey killed JonBenét for eating some of his pineapple, and that Patsy and John worked together to stage the kidnapping/murder scene to keep their son out of trouble. Burke was known to show hostility towards his sister (housekeepers reported that he defecated in her bed and rubbed feces on her Christmas presents and bedroom walls), so this with the pineapple bowl being covered in his fingerprints, JonBenét having undigested pineapple in her system, and his bizarre testimonials where he is seen smiling and seems like he’s reciting a script lead people to the conclusion that Burke killed his little sister in 1996. In December 2016 following the special, Burke filed a lawsuit against CBS for $750 million, alleging defamation.

Burke Ramsey during a 2016 interview with Dr. Phil. (YouTube)

44. On top of his confession to Michael Tracey, John Mark Karr has maintained that while he was present when JonBenét died, he did not act alone and wasn’t solely responsible for her murder. Karr claims that he knows who this killer is, but that he staged the crime scene in order to throw the police off the trail. This “real killer” has never been identifed by Karr or anyone else.

45. A particularly bizarre internet conspiracy theory is that the popstar Katy Perry is actually JonBenét Ramsey. Stemming from a 2014 YouTube video (now removed), the theory states that the similarities in their facial structure proves Perry is actually JonBenét and claims that the Ramseys staged the murder and cover up so that JonBenét/Katy could become famous.

46. A man named Michael Helgoth worked near the Ramsey home and allegedly told a friend on the night of the murder that he would be making “between $50,000 and $80,000 that night.” Helgoth had a history of sexual abuse and violence, but two days after the DA announced they had narrowed down a list of suspects, Helgoth committed suicide.

47. In December of 2016 authorities in Colorado revealed they would be using new DNA technology on the evidence found in the JonBenét Ramsey case. However, they cautioned that this would likely not reveal anything new and that in order to make a strong case, “new results [would only be significant] if they can be matched with other evidence authorities already have.”

JonBenét Ramsey (Splash News)

48. Current Boulder County District Attorney Stan Garnett claims he’s very certain he knows who killed JonBenét and that, “If we can ever file a case in open court, I’ll tell the world.”

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Heres Everything Youve Ever Wanted To Know About The JonBent Ramsey Murder

—

1. JonBenét’s first name is what is know as a “portmanteau” given that her name is a combination of her father’s first and middle name, creating a completely new name.

2. JonBenét was a decorated beauty pageant contestant winning titles such as Little Miss Colorado, Little Miss Charlevoix, Colorado State All-Star Kids Cover Girl, America’s Royale Miss, and National Tiny Miss Beauty.

JonBenét, photograhped for a pageant. (Wikipedia)

3. Investigators found 38 registered sex offenders within a 1.8 mile radius of the Ramsey’s Boulder, Colorado home.

4. Jon Bennett Ramsey, JonBenét’s father, was the President and Chief Executive Officer of Access Graphics, a computer services company. In 1996, the same year as JonBenét’s murder, Access Graphics grossed over $1 billion, and he was named “Entrepreneur of the Year” by the Boulder Chamber of Commerce.

5. Although JonBenét’s half brother from her father’s first marriage spent half of Christmas day with the Ramseys, her parents Patsy and John and 9-year-old brother Burke are the only people known to have been in the family home the night of her murder.

Burke, Patsy, and JonBenét Ramsey. (Splash News)

6. At 5:52 AM on the morning of December 26th, 1996, Patsy called 911 to report her daughter was missing after finding a two page ransom note on the back staircase of the family house, allegedly to be from someone who had kidnapped JonBenét in the middle of the night.

7. There was a phone call prior to Patsy’s from the Ramsey household to 911, but whoever made that phone call immediately hung up.

8. The ransom note is a point of suspicion for many people, given that it was proven to have been written in the Ramsey household, a “practice” ransom letter was found, and several handwriting analysis experts have determined it was very probable that Patsy herself wrote the letter.

9. The letter reads as follows:

Mr. Ramsey,

Listen carefully! We are a group of individuals that represent a small foreign faction. We do respect your bussiness [sic] but not the country that it serves. At this time we have your daughter in our posession [sic]. She is safe and unharmed and if you want her to see 1997, you must follow our instructions to the letter.

You will withdraw $118,000.00 from your account. $100,000 will be in $100 bills and the remaining $18,000 in $20 bills. Make sure that you bring an adequate size attache to the bank. When you get home you will put the money in a brown paper bag. I will call you between 8 and 10 am tomorrow to instruct you on delivery. The delivery will be exhausting so I advise you to be rested. If we monitor you getting the money early, we might call you early to arrange an earlier delivery of the money and hence a [sic] earlier delivery pick-up of your daughter.

Any deviation of my instructions will result in the immediate execution of your daughter. You will also be denied her remains for proper burial. The two gentlemen watching over your daughter do not particularly like you so I advise you not to provoke them. Speaking to anyone about your situation, such as Police, F.B.I., etc., will result in your daughter being beheaded. If we catch you talking to a stray dog, she dies. If you alert bank authorities, she dies. If the money is in any way marked or tampered with, she dies. You will be scanned for electronic devices and if any are found, she dies. You can try to deceive us but be warned that we are familiar with law enforcement countermeasures and tactics. You stand a 99% chance of killing your daughter if you try to out smart [sic] us. Follow our instructions and you stand a 100% chance of getting her back.

You and your family are under constant scrutiny as well as the authorities. Don’t try to grow a brain John. You are not the only fat cat around so don’t think that killing will be difficult. Don’t underestimate us John. Use that good southern common sense of yours. It is up to you now John!

Victory!

S.B.T.C

10. Another point of suspicion in regards to the ransom letter is the specificity of the amount of money. It was almost the exact amount of what John Ramsey’s Christmas bonus had been that year.

11. Despite being instructed not to contact anyone in the ransom letter, Patsy called the authorities as well and friends and family to alert them to her daughter’s disappearance.

12. When police entered the house they did a cursory search, but after failing to find any sign of a break in, struggle, or forced entry, only sectioned of JonBenét’s room and treated the scene as a kidnapping.

The Ramsey Home in Boulder (Jennifer Boyer)

13. Because the murder took place during Christmas, there were fewer police available to take statements from the Ramsey family and to secure the house. This lead to JonBenét’s room not being properly sectioned off, friends and family coming and going from the house contaminating the scene, and other missteps that basically made any DNA evidence unusable.

14. During a 2015 Reddit AMA, former Police Chief Mark Beckner said, “As for the police department in general, I wish we would have done a much better job of securing and controlling the crime scene on day one…We also should have separated John and Patsy and gotten full statements from them that day.”

15. At 1 PM Boulder Police Detective Linda Arndt suggested that John Ramsey and his friend Fleet White search through the house to see if they could spot if “anything seemed amiss.” While looking through the basement, the two men discovered the body of JonBenét.

15. JonBenét was bound by her wrists and ankles with a nylon cord, had duct tape over her mouth, and was covered in a white blanket. John Ramsey immediately carried her upstairs and Detective Arndt moved her into the living room.

16. Patsy claimed the clothes JonBenét was found in (white t-shirt and leggings) were not what she had put her daughter to bed wearing the night before.

18. The autopsy report showed that JoneBenét had been killed by strangulation (likely with the nylon cord wrapped around her neck) and also had a skull fracture. Her vaginal area had been wiped down, but there wasn’t any physical evidence of “conventional rape.” There was some sort of undigested fruit, thought to potentially be pineapple, in her stomach that had been consumed just a few hours before she died.

19. In photographs taken of the Ramsey household, there was a bowl of pineapple with a spoon on the kitchen table. The bowl and the spoon were covered in 9-year-old Burke’s fingerprints. Both John and Patsy said they had no memory of putting pineapple out for either of their children, and adamantly maintained that Burke had been asleep the entire night and woke up several hours after they called the police to report JonBenét missing.

The pineapple with milk, photographed during the 1996 investigation. (CBS)

20. After calling 911, Patsy thought she had hung up the phone but it was actually still on the line for a few seconds and voices were audible.

21. On the 911 call voices can be heard in the background during those seconds when the phone was not actually hung up. Some speculate that they can hear Patsy saying, “Help me Jesus,” or “What did you do?” and man, maybe John Ramsey, saying, “We’re not speaking to you.”

22. Kimberly Archuleta, the 911 dispatcher who took Patsy Ramsey’s call, was not questioned by the police.

23. Burke Ramsey, when questioned by the police about what happened to JonBenét, maintained (both as a child and to this day) that he was in bed when the 911 call was made.

25. A window in the basement was found to be broken, however it didn’t seem likely to be an actual, feasible point of entry for a break in. The window remained quite dirty (an intruder would have likely wiped most of the debris away while sliding through), it wasn’t actually found to be open at the time of investigation (reports vary on this), and a spider web in the corner was completely undisturbed.

26. It was however reported that there were “two sets of unidentifiable footprints” and a “palm print on the cellar door” in the basement where JonBenét’s body was found.

27. In 1999 there was an indictment against the Ramseys for two counts of child neglect that resulted in the death of JonBenét. However, District Attorney Alex Hunter refused to sign off on the documents stating lack of evidence, and therefore they were never actually indicted and/or prosecuted.

John and Patsy Ramsey during a local interview in 1997. (YouTube)

28. There was (and continues to be) wild speculation that JonBenét had been sexually abused/assaulted, both during her life and during her murder. When she was around 3 years old she was brought to the doctor for vaginal irritation, but her parents and the doctor stated that was simply from an allergic reaction to bubble bath. JonBenét was also a known bedwetter, which can be a sign of trauma and abuse in children. Lastly, although no seminal fluid was found there did appear to be vaginal trauma on her body during the autopsy. All of this has lead to the speculation that there was a sexual component to the crime.

29. In 2003 investigators found DNA evidence from a droplet of blood that was found in/on JonBenét’s underwear. The DNA was from an unknown male, not related to the Ramseys. While the DNA has been put into the FBI database so far it has lead to no new leads and no new developments.

30. One of the popular suspects was the “Santa Claus” suspect. A man named Bill McReynolds, who played Santa Claus along with his wife, Janet, who played Mrs. Claus, was at the Ramsey home just two days before JonBenét’s death. McReynolds described feeling very close to JonBenét and allegedly gave her a card that said, “You will receive a special gift after Christmas.” Mrs. McReynolds also wrote a play about a child who is murdered and their body is discovered in a basement. But despite these coincidences, as chilling as they may be, no other evidence was found to tie McReynolds to the case. McReynolds died at age 72 of a heart attack in 2002.

31. Lou Smit, a detective who came out of retirement to assist the District Attorney’s office with the case in early 1997, has stated that one of his main suspects is Gary Oliva. Oliva, a registered sex offender, was found with a photo of JonBenét in his backpack when he was arrested on drug charges in 2000. Oliva said of the photograph, “I feel she was an exceptional girl whose death was an exceptional loss. I felt the need to build a monument, a shrine, to remember this little girl.”

32. Michael Vail, a friend of Oliva’s, came forward to magazine with the information that just a day after the 1996 murder Oliva called him in distress saying, “I hurt a little girl, I hurt a little girl.” However, the DNA evidence was not a match to Oliva’s.

33. In 2006 at the age of 49, Patsy Ramsey died of ovarian cancer. She was buried at St. James Episcopal Cemetery in Marietta, Georgia, next to JonBenét.

JonBenét’s Grave. (Wikipedia)

34. 10 years after the murder, John Mark Karr confessed via email to murdering JonBenét to a journalism professor named Michael Tracey. Tracey had been emailing with Karr for over 4 years in order to gain his trust.

35. In the emails sent to Tracey, Karr used vernacular similar to that which was used in the ransom note left at the Ramsey house. He also called Patsy by a nickname, “Neddie”, that it was strange he would even have knowledge of. Eventually, Karr confessed to being in love with JonBenét and that on that night in December, he hit her over the head with a flashlight.

36. In a conversation with Tracey about the murder Karr said,

“I guess I might have just kind of had like a nervous breakdown at that point, I think I must have. I think I must have had really something kind of clicked in my head and I kind of lost it, really lost it. I mean, I just started really feeling strange and I just kept looking up at her.

And then all of sudden it was like now she was dead and she once was this little girl, but now she was like a holy deity; she was just like a goddess at that point.

She was beyond a child; she was just like when Jesus died on the cross… and when Jesus died on the cross he transcended from being a man to being something immortal, and that’s what she became to me.

I don’t give damn if anyone understand it or not….

I just looked up at her I though I just want to worship her…she’s my goddess…”

37. On August 16, 2008, with the assistance of British Intelligence and the Royal Thai Authorities, the US Department of Homeland Security was able to locate Karr in Bangkok where he had traveled to avoid child pornography charges from the state of California.

John Mark Karr in an interview post-confession. (YouTube)

38. A few months after Karr’s confession, Boulder County District Attorney Mary Lacy issued a formal apology to John Ramsey and his family saying, “No one in the Ramsey family is considered a suspect.”

39. Despite his confession, Karr’s DNA did not match the DNA found at the scene of the crime, and he was never charged.

40. Furthermore, Former Police Chief Mark Beckner said of Karr and Mary Lacy, “My gut reaction was that Mary Lacy did not know the facts of the case and was making a big mistake. His confession, once they shared it with us, did not match the evidence at the scene. After she asked for our help in proving he did it, we knew in about 18 hours he was not the guy. We were able to confirm he was not even in Colorado at the time by just doing some routine checking and then obtained photos of him in Georgia at the time.”

41. In the CBS documentary special , DNA specialist Dr. Henry Lee revisited the DNA found on JonBenét’s underwear. Lee concluded that it was highly possible that the DNA found was transfer DNA from the manufacturer, and proved this by testing an unopened bag of underwear that ended up also containing trace DNA. This meant that the DNA evidence wasn’t conclusive, and any prior suspects could in fact be JonBenét’s killer despite previously being ruled out when they were not a DNA match.

42. A popular theory is that Patsy Ramsey, known to be a strict mother, accidentally killed JonBenét while reprimanding her for wetting the bed. This, coupled with the fact that several experts say that the ransom note was written by a woman, lead people to assume Patsy’s guilt.

43. Another theory, greatly reinforced by the CBS special, says that Burke Ramsey killed JonBenét for eating some of his pineapple, and that Patsy and John worked together to stage the kidnapping/murder scene to keep their son out of trouble. Burke was known to show hostility towards his sister (housekeepers reported that he defecated in her bed and rubbed feces on her Christmas presents and bedroom walls), so this with the pineapple bowl being covered in his fingerprints, JonBenét having undigested pineapple in her system, and his bizarre testimonials where he is seen smiling and seems like he’s reciting a script lead people to the conclusion that Burke killed his little sister in 1996. In December 2016 following the special, Burke filed a lawsuit against CBS for $750 million, alleging defamation.

Burke Ramsey during a 2016 interview with Dr. Phil. (YouTube)

44. On top of his confession to Michael Tracey, John Mark Karr has maintained that while he was present when JonBenét died, he did not act alone and wasn’t solely responsible for her murder. Karr claims that he knows who this killer is, but that he staged the crime scene in order to throw the police off the trail. This “real killer” has never been identifed by Karr or anyone else.

45. A particularly bizarre internet conspiracy theory is that the popstar Katy Perry is actually JonBenét Ramsey. Stemming from a 2014 YouTube video (now removed), the theory states that the similarities in their facial structure proves Perry is actually JonBenét and claims that the Ramseys staged the murder and cover up so that JonBenét/Katy could become famous.

46. A man named Michael Helgoth worked near the Ramsey home and allegedly told a friend on the night of the murder that he would be making “between $50,000 and $80,000 that night.” Helgoth had a history of sexual abuse and violence, but two days after the DA announced they had narrowed down a list of suspects, Helgoth committed suicide.

47. In December of 2016 authorities in Colorado revealed they would be using new DNA technology on the evidence found in the JonBenét Ramsey case. However, they cautioned that this would likely not reveal anything new and that in order to make a strong case, “new results [would only be significant] if they can be matched with other evidence authorities already have.”

JonBenét Ramsey (Splash News)

48. Current Boulder County District Attorney Stan Garnett claims he’s very certain he knows who killed JonBenét and that, “If we can ever file a case in open court, I’ll tell the world.”

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Heres Everything Youve Ever Wanted To Know About The JonBent Ramsey Murder was originally posted by A 18 MOA Top News from around

[trendingnewsb]

Heres Everything Youve Ever Wanted To Know About The JonBent Ramsey Murder

—

1. JonBenét’s first name is what is know as a “portmanteau” given that her name is a combination of her father’s first and middle name, creating a completely new name.

2. JonBenét was a decorated beauty pageant contestant winning titles such as Little Miss Colorado, Little Miss Charlevoix, Colorado State All-Star Kids Cover Girl, America’s Royale Miss, and National Tiny Miss Beauty.

JonBenét, photograhped for a pageant. (Wikipedia)

3. Investigators found 38 registered sex offenders within a 1.8 mile radius of the Ramsey’s Boulder, Colorado home.

4. Jon Bennett Ramsey, JonBenét’s father, was the President and Chief Executive Officer of Access Graphics, a computer services company. In 1996, the same year as JonBenét’s murder, Access Graphics grossed over $1 billion, and he was named “Entrepreneur of the Year” by the Boulder Chamber of Commerce.

5. Although JonBenét’s half brother from her father’s first marriage spent half of Christmas day with the Ramseys, her parents Patsy and John and 9-year-old brother Burke are the only people known to have been in the family home the night of her murder.

Burke, Patsy, and JonBenét Ramsey. (Splash News)

6. At 5:52 AM on the morning of December 26th, 1996, Patsy called 911 to report her daughter was missing after finding a two page ransom note on the back staircase of the family house, allegedly to be from someone who had kidnapped JonBenét in the middle of the night.

7. There was a phone call prior to Patsy’s from the Ramsey household to 911, but whoever made that phone call immediately hung up.

8. The ransom note is a point of suspicion for many people, given that it was proven to have been written in the Ramsey household, a “practice” ransom letter was found, and several handwriting analysis experts have determined it was very probable that Patsy herself wrote the letter.

9. The letter reads as follows:

Mr. Ramsey,

Listen carefully! We are a group of individuals that represent a small foreign faction. We do respect your bussiness [sic] but not the country that it serves. At this time we have your daughter in our posession [sic]. She is safe and unharmed and if you want her to see 1997, you must follow our instructions to the letter.

You will withdraw $118,000.00 from your account. $100,000 will be in $100 bills and the remaining $18,000 in $20 bills. Make sure that you bring an adequate size attache to the bank. When you get home you will put the money in a brown paper bag. I will call you between 8 and 10 am tomorrow to instruct you on delivery. The delivery will be exhausting so I advise you to be rested. If we monitor you getting the money early, we might call you early to arrange an earlier delivery of the money and hence a [sic] earlier delivery pick-up of your daughter.

Any deviation of my instructions will result in the immediate execution of your daughter. You will also be denied her remains for proper burial. The two gentlemen watching over your daughter do not particularly like you so I advise you not to provoke them. Speaking to anyone about your situation, such as Police, F.B.I., etc., will result in your daughter being beheaded. If we catch you talking to a stray dog, she dies. If you alert bank authorities, she dies. If the money is in any way marked or tampered with, she dies. You will be scanned for electronic devices and if any are found, she dies. You can try to deceive us but be warned that we are familiar with law enforcement countermeasures and tactics. You stand a 99% chance of killing your daughter if you try to out smart [sic] us. Follow our instructions and you stand a 100% chance of getting her back.

You and your family are under constant scrutiny as well as the authorities. Don’t try to grow a brain John. You are not the only fat cat around so don’t think that killing will be difficult. Don’t underestimate us John. Use that good southern common sense of yours. It is up to you now John!

Victory!

S.B.T.C

10. Another point of suspicion in regards to the ransom letter is the specificity of the amount of money. It was almost the exact amount of what John Ramsey’s Christmas bonus had been that year.

11. Despite being instructed not to contact anyone in the ransom letter, Patsy called the authorities as well and friends and family to alert them to her daughter’s disappearance.

12. When police entered the house they did a cursory search, but after failing to find any sign of a break in, struggle, or forced entry, only sectioned of JonBenét’s room and treated the scene as a kidnapping.

The Ramsey Home in Boulder (Jennifer Boyer)

13. Because the murder took place during Christmas, there were fewer police available to take statements from the Ramsey family and to secure the house. This lead to JonBenét’s room not being properly sectioned off, friends and family coming and going from the house contaminating the scene, and other missteps that basically made any DNA evidence unusable.

14. During a 2015 Reddit AMA, former Police Chief Mark Beckner said, “As for the police department in general, I wish we would have done a much better job of securing and controlling the crime scene on day one…We also should have separated John and Patsy and gotten full statements from them that day.”

15. At 1 PM Boulder Police Detective Linda Arndt suggested that John Ramsey and his friend Fleet White search through the house to see if they could spot if “anything seemed amiss.” While looking through the basement, the two men discovered the body of JonBenét.

15. JonBenét was bound by her wrists and ankles with a nylon cord, had duct tape over her mouth, and was covered in a white blanket. John Ramsey immediately carried her upstairs and Detective Arndt moved her into the living room.

16. Patsy claimed the clothes JonBenét was found in (white t-shirt and leggings) were not what she had put her daughter to bed wearing the night before.

18. The autopsy report showed that JoneBenét had been killed by strangulation (likely with the nylon cord wrapped around her neck) and also had a skull fracture. Her vaginal area had been wiped down, but there wasn’t any physical evidence of “conventional rape.” There was some sort of undigested fruit, thought to potentially be pineapple, in her stomach that had been consumed just a few hours before she died.

19. In photographs taken of the Ramsey household, there was a bowl of pineapple with a spoon on the kitchen table. The bowl and the spoon were covered in 9-year-old Burke’s fingerprints. Both John and Patsy said they had no memory of putting pineapple out for either of their children, and adamantly maintained that Burke had been asleep the entire night and woke up several hours after they called the police to report JonBenét missing.

The pineapple with milk, photographed during the 1996 investigation. (CBS)

20. After calling 911, Patsy thought she had hung up the phone but it was actually still on the line for a few seconds and voices were audible.

21. On the 911 call voices can be heard in the background during those seconds when the phone was not actually hung up. Some speculate that they can hear Patsy saying, “Help me Jesus,” or “What did you do?” and man, maybe John Ramsey, saying, “We’re not speaking to you.”

22. Kimberly Archuleta, the 911 dispatcher who took Patsy Ramsey’s call, was not questioned by the police.

23. Burke Ramsey, when questioned by the police about what happened to JonBenét, maintained (both as a child and to this day) that he was in bed when the 911 call was made.

25. A window in the basement was found to be broken, however it didn’t seem likely to be an actual, feasible point of entry for a break in. The window remained quite dirty (an intruder would have likely wiped most of the debris away while sliding through), it wasn’t actually found to be open at the time of investigation (reports vary on this), and a spider web in the corner was completely undisturbed.

26. It was however reported that there were “two sets of unidentifiable footprints” and a “palm print on the cellar door” in the basement where JonBenét’s body was found.

27. In 1999 there was an indictment against the Ramseys for two counts of child neglect that resulted in the death of JonBenét. However, District Attorney Alex Hunter refused to sign off on the documents stating lack of evidence, and therefore they were never actually indicted and/or prosecuted.

John and Patsy Ramsey during a local interview in 1997. (YouTube)

28. There was (and continues to be) wild speculation that JonBenét had been sexually abused/assaulted, both during her life and during her murder. When she was around 3 years old she was brought to the doctor for vaginal irritation, but her parents and the doctor stated that was simply from an allergic reaction to bubble bath. JonBenét was also a known bedwetter, which can be a sign of trauma and abuse in children. Lastly, although no seminal fluid was found there did appear to be vaginal trauma on her body during the autopsy. All of this has lead to the speculation that there was a sexual component to the crime.

29. In 2003 investigators found DNA evidence from a droplet of blood that was found in/on JonBenét’s underwear. The DNA was from an unknown male, not related to the Ramseys. While the DNA has been put into the FBI database so far it has lead to no new leads and no new developments.

30. One of the popular suspects was the “Santa Claus” suspect. A man named Bill McReynolds, who played Santa Claus along with his wife, Janet, who played Mrs. Claus, was at the Ramsey home just two days before JonBenét’s death. McReynolds described feeling very close to JonBenét and allegedly gave her a card that said, “You will receive a special gift after Christmas.” Mrs. McReynolds also wrote a play about a child who is murdered and their body is discovered in a basement. But despite these coincidences, as chilling as they may be, no other evidence was found to tie McReynolds to the case. McReynolds died at age 72 of a heart attack in 2002.

31. Lou Smit, a detective who came out of retirement to assist the District Attorney’s office with the case in early 1997, has stated that one of his main suspects is Gary Oliva. Oliva, a registered sex offender, was found with a photo of JonBenét in his backpack when he was arrested on drug charges in 2000. Oliva said of the photograph, “I feel she was an exceptional girl whose death was an exceptional loss. I felt the need to build a monument, a shrine, to remember this little girl.”

32. Michael Vail, a friend of Oliva’s, came forward to magazine with the information that just a day after the 1996 murder Oliva called him in distress saying, “I hurt a little girl, I hurt a little girl.” However, the DNA evidence was not a match to Oliva’s.

33. In 2006 at the age of 49, Patsy Ramsey died of ovarian cancer. She was buried at St. James Episcopal Cemetery in Marietta, Georgia, next to JonBenét.

JonBenét’s Grave. (Wikipedia)

34. 10 years after the murder, John Mark Karr confessed via email to murdering JonBenét to a journalism professor named Michael Tracey. Tracey had been emailing with Karr for over 4 years in order to gain his trust.

35. In the emails sent to Tracey, Karr used vernacular similar to that which was used in the ransom note left at the Ramsey house. He also called Patsy by a nickname, “Neddie”, that it was strange he would even have knowledge of. Eventually, Karr confessed to being in love with JonBenét and that on that night in December, he hit her over the head with a flashlight.

36. In a conversation with Tracey about the murder Karr said,

“I guess I might have just kind of had like a nervous breakdown at that point, I think I must have. I think I must have had really something kind of clicked in my head and I kind of lost it, really lost it. I mean, I just started really feeling strange and I just kept looking up at her.

And then all of sudden it was like now she was dead and she once was this little girl, but now she was like a holy deity; she was just like a goddess at that point.

She was beyond a child; she was just like when Jesus died on the cross… and when Jesus died on the cross he transcended from being a man to being something immortal, and that’s what she became to me.

I don’t give damn if anyone understand it or not….

I just looked up at her I though I just want to worship her…she’s my goddess…”

37. On August 16, 2008, with the assistance of British Intelligence and the Royal Thai Authorities, the US Department of Homeland Security was able to locate Karr in Bangkok where he had traveled to avoid child pornography charges from the state of California.

John Mark Karr in an interview post-confession. (YouTube)

38. A few months after Karr’s confession, Boulder County District Attorney Mary Lacy issued a formal apology to John Ramsey and his family saying, “No one in the Ramsey family is considered a suspect.”

39. Despite his confession, Karr’s DNA did not match the DNA found at the scene of the crime, and he was never charged.

40. Furthermore, Former Police Chief Mark Beckner said of Karr and Mary Lacy, “My gut reaction was that Mary Lacy did not know the facts of the case and was making a big mistake. His confession, once they shared it with us, did not match the evidence at the scene. After she asked for our help in proving he did it, we knew in about 18 hours he was not the guy. We were able to confirm he was not even in Colorado at the time by just doing some routine checking and then obtained photos of him in Georgia at the time.”

41. In the CBS documentary special , DNA specialist Dr. Henry Lee revisited the DNA found on JonBenét’s underwear. Lee concluded that it was highly possible that the DNA found was transfer DNA from the manufacturer, and proved this by testing an unopened bag of underwear that ended up also containing trace DNA. This meant that the DNA evidence wasn’t conclusive, and any prior suspects could in fact be JonBenét’s killer despite previously being ruled out when they were not a DNA match.

42. A popular theory is that Patsy Ramsey, known to be a strict mother, accidentally killed JonBenét while reprimanding her for wetting the bed. This, coupled with the fact that several experts say that the ransom note was written by a woman, lead people to assume Patsy’s guilt.

43. Another theory, greatly reinforced by the CBS special, says that Burke Ramsey killed JonBenét for eating some of his pineapple, and that Patsy and John worked together to stage the kidnapping/murder scene to keep their son out of trouble. Burke was known to show hostility towards his sister (housekeepers reported that he defecated in her bed and rubbed feces on her Christmas presents and bedroom walls), so this with the pineapple bowl being covered in his fingerprints, JonBenét having undigested pineapple in her system, and his bizarre testimonials where he is seen smiling and seems like he’s reciting a script lead people to the conclusion that Burke killed his little sister in 1996. In December 2016 following the special, Burke filed a lawsuit against CBS for $750 million, alleging defamation.

Burke Ramsey during a 2016 interview with Dr. Phil. (YouTube)

44. On top of his confession to Michael Tracey, John Mark Karr has maintained that while he was present when JonBenét died, he did not act alone and wasn’t solely responsible for her murder. Karr claims that he knows who this killer is, but that he staged the crime scene in order to throw the police off the trail. This “real killer” has never been identifed by Karr or anyone else.

45. A particularly bizarre internet conspiracy theory is that the popstar Katy Perry is actually JonBenét Ramsey. Stemming from a 2014 YouTube video (now removed), the theory states that the similarities in their facial structure proves Perry is actually JonBenét and claims that the Ramseys staged the murder and cover up so that JonBenét/Katy could become famous.

46. A man named Michael Helgoth worked near the Ramsey home and allegedly told a friend on the night of the murder that he would be making “between $50,000 and $80,000 that night.” Helgoth had a history of sexual abuse and violence, but two days after the DA announced they had narrowed down a list of suspects, Helgoth committed suicide.

47. In December of 2016 authorities in Colorado revealed they would be using new DNA technology on the evidence found in the JonBenét Ramsey case. However, they cautioned that this would likely not reveal anything new and that in order to make a strong case, “new results [would only be significant] if they can be matched with other evidence authorities already have.”

JonBenét Ramsey (Splash News)

48. Current Boulder County District Attorney Stan Garnett claims he’s very certain he knows who killed JonBenét and that, “If we can ever file a case in open court, I’ll tell the world.”

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