but come on he needs that back

Me: *takes a deep breath*

Me, yelling at full volume: HOW DOES A RAGTAG VOLUNTEER ARMY IN NEED OF A SHOWER SOMEHOW DEFEAT A GLOBAL SUPERPOWER HOW DO WE EMERGE VICTORIOUS FROM THE QUAGMIRE LEAVE THE BATTLEFIELD WAVING BESTY ROSS’S FLAG HIGHER YO TURNS OUT WE HAVE A SECRET WEAPON AN IMMIGRANT YOU KNOW AND LOVE WHO’S UNAFRAID TO STEP IN HE’S CONSTANTLY CONFUSING CONFOUNDING THE BRITISH HENCHMEN EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR AMERICA’S FAVORITE FIGHTING FRENCHMAN LAFAYETTE IM TAKING THIS HORSE BY THE REINS MAKING RED COATS REDDER WITH BLOODSTAINS LAFAYETTE AND IM NEVER GONNA STOP TILL I MAKE EM DROP BURN EM UP AND SCATTER THEIR REMAINS IM LAFAYETTE WATCH ME ENGAGING EM ESCAPING EM ENRAGING EM IM LAFAYETTE I GO TO FRANCE FOR MORE FUNDS LAFAYETTE I COME BACK WITH MORE GUNS AND SHIPS AND SO THE BALANCE SHIFTS WE RENDEZVOUS WITH ROCHAMBEAU CONSOLIDATE THEIR GIFTS WE CAN END THIS WAR AT YORKTOWN CUT THEM OFF AT SEA BUT FOR THIS TO SUCCEED THERE IS SOMEONE ELSE WE NEED I KNOW HAMILTON SO HE KNOWS WHAT TO DO IN A TRENCH INGENUITIVE AND FLUENT IN FRENCH I MEAN HAMILTON SO YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO USE HIM EVENTUALLY WHAT’S HE GONNA DO ON THE BENCH I MEAN HAMILTON NO ONE HAS MORE RESILIENCE OR MATCHES MY PRACTICAL TACTICAL BRILLIANCE HAMILTON YOU WANNA FIGHT FOR YOUR LAND BACK HAMILTON I NEED MY RIGHT HAND BACK YEAH UH GET YOUR RIGHT HAND MAN BACK YOU KNOW YOU GOTTA GET YOUR RIGHT HAND MAN BACK I MEAN YOU GOTTA PUT SOME THOUGHT IN THE LETTER BUT THE SOONER THE BETTER TO GET YOUR RIGHT HAND MAN BACK ALEXANDER HAMILTON TROOPS ARE WAITING IN THE FIELDS FOR YOU IF YOU JOIN US RIGHT NOW TOGETHER WE CAN TURN THE TIDES OH ALEXANDER HAMILTON I HAVE SOLDIERS THAT WILL YIELD FOR YOU IF WE MANAGE TO GET THIS RIGHT THEY’LL SURRENDER BY EARLY LIGHT THE WORLD WILL NEVER BE THE SAME ALEXANDERRR

anonymous asked:

Hey! Hope you are having a lovely day... I know you are not taking any prompts but I've been having a really bad week and well.. I don't know why but the thought of max lord coming back at the DEO as a consultant has been haunting me for a while .. I mean max flirting with Alex, he doesn't know she is dating Maggie and she is there ...

“I told you, we don’t need his help – “

“But we do, Alex. I don’t like the man any more than you do, but he is the foremost expert on this kind of technology, whether we approve of him as a person or – “

“Aw, Director Henshaw, it’s always good to hear a compliment from a man of your disposition.”

Alex tenses at the sound of his voice – but slightly, slightly, so that only J’onn and Maggie notice – and J’onn just rolls his eyes.

“Your expertise doesn’t make it worth my time or energy to go so far as to compliment you, Mr. Lord,” J’onn deadpans, and Alex smirks and turns around, just as Maxwell Lord is stepping into her space.

Close into her space.

“Agent Danvers. As mysteriously beautiful as ever. I like what you’re doing with your hair; it’s less straight now, are you using new products?”

Winn snorts without turning from his computer console and Maggie shares a silent smirk with him.

“The only new product I’m interested in discussing with you is this weapon. That’s all, Max.”

“You mean to tell me you didn’t call me here because you missed me? Shame, Agent Danvers. Shame. But we’ll get there.”

J’onn glances at Maggie and her eyes are tense, her eyes are alert, but this is Alex Danvers, and Alex Danvers can take care of herself, and she swears to herself that she’ll respect that.

But that doesn’t mean she can’t put her body between his and Alex’s, because she knows Alex, and she knows her face is blank and her eyes are sarcasm and wit, but she knows her skin is crawling.

“Maggie Sawyer, NCPD Science Division,” she steps forward and puts out her hand.

Max’s eyes sweep her body briefly, and Alex can’t tell whether he’s checking her out sexually or cataloguing all her body language for a psychological profile. She hates it either way.

“I see I’m not the only local assistance you’re bringing in. Good for you, Director Henshaw: pride costs us more than hunger, or in this case, annihilation.”

Alex rolls her eyes and strides abruptly toward the lab.

“This way.”

He follows, and Maggie watches, Maggie helps, Maggie observes, as – when he actually focuses on the science – Alex and Max work well together.

Maxwell Lord is a world-renowned genius: a stirring of pride swells in Maggie’s chest that her girlfriend not only keeps up with him easily, but outpaces him, surprises him, comes up with things that make his eyebrows rise in surprised delight.

But anger also boils in her blood, because in the moments when Alex is bent over a microscope and he moves to see next, he stands way too close to her body. His eyes trickle down her neckline, and Maggie sees Alex tense in a way the supposed genius doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care about.

His off-handed comments about her missing him, about her missing them, even though Maggie knows – and Alex knows, and hell, even Max knows – there was never a them, build and build and build.

And Maggie swore she wouldn’t be possessive; swore she would let Alex fight her own battles; but as the afternoon draws on, Alex is looking more and more exhausted, more and more frustrated, more and more resigned to having to put up with his incessant flirting until they’re through with his knowledge.

But those days – the days of Alex having to push down her feelings – are over.

So Maggie takes a deep breath and Maggie passes behind Alex and slips her hand from her waist across the small of her back. Alex knows her touch, knows her hands, knows her gentleness, even while staring hard into a microscope lens, and she smiles.

It’s that smile that lets Maggie know that Alex is comfortable, that Alex is ready, that Alex has nothing to hide.

“Babe, have you thought about asking Supergirl to call Star Labs? Because we were talking about it, just randomly, and I think I remember her saying something about a cold gun, and I’m thinking we could adapt some of the principles to – “

“Oh my god, Mags, you’re a genius,” Alex splutters, and blows past Max to get to Maggie, to frame her face with her hands, and kiss her full on the mouth.

Max blinks and he stares and he grimaces.

“So that’s why we never got anywhere, Agent Danvers: you – “

“No. No no no, stop right there, Max. We never got anywhere because you’re a pretentious, selfish asshole. Also, I’m a lesbian. The things are completely unrelated.”

Maggie smirks and Max blinks rapidly and Alex nearly pats her own self on the back.

One of the agents assigned to keeping an eye on Max smirks while the other lets out a soft sigh as he passes his grinning colleague a crisp fifty dollar bill.

“Told you Agent Danvers would snap first. You owe Director Henshaw a twenty, too.”

things that would have been better than what we got

-“tord” being an escaped evil clone from spares
-tord is the tord from the edd never existed timeline who took over half of norway
-tord comes back because after his attempt at forming an army crashed and burned he made a deal with the devil for infinite power and smoking hot babes in return of him and his friends souls and he needs to complete his half of the agreement.
-tord comes back because he’s on the run for being an actual war criminal. wacky gags about the crew being totally oblivious.
-20 minutes of tori and ell gazing lovingly into each others eyes and having a blast while being bridesmaids at kim and katya’s wedding
-literally anything but the end

2

-you’d meet during the Apocalypse ordeal and he’d save you from a falling building

-after the Apocalypse thing he’d get his real feathered wings back and come to the Mutant school with you.

-he would always be holding your hand

-at first he’d feel really bad about what he did with Apocalypse so he’d almost hide behind you.

-but your friends would welcome him because they can see the way he looks at you with eyes full of love.

-once he was comfortable, he’d be back to his snarky, confident, cocky self. 

-cuddles 24/7 because he’s a teddy bear and needs love

-his wings bumping into things

-gripping you like you could be stolen from his arms at any moment

-burrowing his face into your neck during one of those long hugs

-his wings encircling you like a protective barrier

-he sleeps sprawled everywhere and his wings go over everything

-he sleeps in too.

-but he always manages to grab you and secure you to his side when he sleeps, his wing resting on top of you like a protective dog or cat

-you stand near the window while Warren sleeps. suddenly those big muscled arms wrap around your bare waist and lips find the skin on your neck, ‘good morning beautiful.’ he murmurs against your neck in that husky morning voice of his.

-food fights in the community kitchen

-sexy times and kinky times because that kid is a kinky shit

-him grinning whenever something kinky gets mentioned

-showers together where his wings almost break the glass shower door because they’re so big and there’s no way the both of you can actually fit in the shower

-he’d have a thing for laying down with his head in your lap while you stroke his blonde hair, and he’d look up at you with adoring baby blues.

-tracing the tattoos left from Apocalypse and he gets ashamed of them but you tell him they’re beautiful like the rest of him

-he’d get nervous about doing romantic things in public, like for an anniversary he’d get you a rose and dress in a suit to take you to dinner some place fancy and he’d be so nervous his wings would shake and he’d turn red and look at the ground when he sees how beautiful you are dressed for the occasion.

-rough kisses

-kisses where he gently cups your face

-kisses all over you as he tickles you

-love marks 

-movie dates where you cuddle and watch anything you want and eat pizza together

-just… everyone’s OTP

Five Times Marinette Failed to Hide and the One Time She Succeeded

Summary: Marinette has never been great at hiding when she needs to. But, when the time comes for her to really

AO3 / Ch 1, 2

Chapter One - Hide and Seek


When Marinette was six years old, her papa covered his eyes and started to count. Tiny though she was, she was also very quick, and she was almost out of the room before he got to ‘three.’ She glanced back at him quickly, and saw him peeking.

With a huff, she stomped her foot and balled her fists. “No fair, Papa! You always tell me no peeking!” A tiny scowl adorned her face.

“Aw, can’t I have just a peek?” he asked her, a smile on his face.

“No! You never give me any peeks!” she exclaimed, shaking her head quickly, which sent her pigtails flying.

Tom guffawed at the sight, and he reached down to tussle her hair a bit. She couldn’t keep the scowl on her face at that, and instead giggled brightly. “Alright, you got me, I’ll play fair. Now, go hide,” he told her, nudging her a bit before turning around and making a large show of covering his face.

“No peeking?” she asked.

“Nope, promise.”

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So I’m a cashier at a large hardware store. Some of out products are crazy expensive and have multiple barcodes. I rang up this man’s three items with totaled to $150. He paid and left. 20-30 minutes later he calls, asking for me personally. My head cashier hands me the phone thinking it’s family. This guy starts to chew me out saying that I stole money from him by overcharging him and that he expected me to do something about it. I told him I couldn’t do anything over the phone, and that he needed to come back to the store. He didn’t like that too much. Saying it was an inconvenience, which I understand. But then he started to say that he was coming for me and when he came in he was going to come find me. And that he wanted discounts. I agree only to get off the phone. I talk to my head cashier and she tells me to go to the customer service supervisor and tell her what happened. She pulls up the transaction and compares the prices online to the prices the customer was charged. They match. I start crying because I feel awful when I do something wrong. Plus I was scared of this guy. I get sent outside to garden and I see the customers wife come in. Figure I just missed him. The phone rings and it’s the customer service supervisor calling to tell me that I had accidentally charged him for a case instead of a single product. This all could have been avoided had I payed a bit more attention to my screen, and if this jerk had looked at the total or his receipt. So now there are two customers I will go out of my way to avoid.

anonymous asked:

Hi! Could I please have TFP Starscream, Megatron, Ratchet and Arcee's reaction to their cybertronian s/o bringing them their fave energon coffee (and possibly a smooch) when they're up late working? Thank you!

Starscream

  • He’s so grateful. No one ever does this kind of thing for him.
  • His wings flutter slightly and he gives you a tired smile. 
  • He pulls you down for a kiss and tells you he’ll come to berth as soon as he’s done with his work, and to go ahead and recharge. 

Megatron

  • He doesn’t acknowledge you aside from a small grunt. He’s focused. 
  • You kiss the side of his helm and he hugs your waist for a moment, but that’s about it.
  • When he finally comes to berth later he kisses the back of your neck and thanks you in earnest.

Ratchet

  • He makes a comment that you shouldn’t waste energon. You tell him it’s not a waste, he needs to refuel. 
  • He melts into the kiss and promises to come to berth as soon as he’s done with his work. 
  • Before you leave he tugs you close and thanks you.

Arcee

  • “Thanks, babe.” 
  • She downs almost the whole cube in one gulp.
  • She lays a servo on your waist as you kiss. You can taste the energon coffee on her mouth. 

prompt: “Oh my God, I thought you were going to die. Please don’t ever scare me like that again.”

For @greenpuma88 - thank you for your generosity and sorry for the long wait! <3

Based on the latest 7 Days to Die episode. >:D

“I got it!” Michael yelled, triumphantly, from down the stairs.

“Great,” Ryan snapped, “Now get the fuck back up here!”

This was a bad idea in every possible way. It’d been a bad idea to come back to the prison, it’d been a really bad idea to come at fucking night - but Gavin had left his backpack and barely escaped with his life, and there were guns in there. Guns they desperately needed.

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Witchy Woman, part 3

Part 1, part 2.

John Winchester x witch!reader drabble series based off this aesthetic.

Warnings: drinking

Words: 623

Originally posted by marythenurse

You’d done as he asked. You’d given him a drink, in fact you’d given him three. He was not unphased by the events which had just unfolded. He had almost died for crying out loud, and more than that he had had to come to you, a witch, for help. You almost shivered when you thought of what the community would say if they ever found out. You weren’t particularly involved, and had no connection to a coven, but you still needed a little lifeline. Now, you might be a hermit by choice, but you didn’t need to be flat out shunned by the community.

Another drink might help keep your mind from spinning these immersive thoughts you pondered and poured whiskey for the both of you before you leaned back on your velvet couch, John reclining next to you.

“So what do you want in return?” John asked, his hazel eyes narrowing in on you, still a slight smirk on his lips.

You racked your brain. Sitting beside you was one of the most legendary hunters in the country and he owed you a favor. You had to use this opportunity right, there was no chance in hell you’d get this chance again. It was too bad he couldn’t guarantee your safety on the hand of others like him, but at least you could make him give an oath not to come after you again. He also had the opportunity to get you ingredients you couldn’t come by too easily on your own; werewolf hair, blood of a priest, the nail of a vampire, that sorta thing.

“I want you to swear you won’t come after me again…” You said, before you took a good swig of your whiskey, it’s heat burning its way down your throat.

“When I walk out that door you’ll never see me again.” He nodded in acceptance as he said it, but that was not at all what you wanted.

“No, that’s not all,” you crossed your arms across your chest, “you’re gonna supply me with ingredients as well.”

“What now?” A look of profound confusion shot across his handsome features.

“When you hunt and come across something I might want, you bring it to me,” you stated matter of factly.

“This just a ploy to keep me coming back here?” He mocked, his eyes twinkling devilishly in the dim light of your sitting room. Damn that charm, you could feel your face flush, hoping the whiskey had a little something to do with it.

“Dream on, Winchester,” you tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t help a playful smirk from hitting your lips, “don’t flatter yourself.”

John chuckled at your response. Damn that chuckle, that deep rumble in his firm chest sending shivers down your spine. You had to admit, you had no problem with him coming back as a friend instead of a foe. Your lonesome existence could use some tall, dark and handsome man to break it up. To offer a little love and care… and lust and excitement. Your mind wandered and you had to uncross your legs as not to add involuntary friction between them. You were growing flustered, and it was all because of him. Maybe he could flatter himself a little…

John continued to drink his whiskey, and you went on toying with the idea of offering him more than your couch for the night. It had been so long since you had a man to share a bed and some intimacy with. And what was really the worst thing that could happen?

“So then, how’s this couch to sleep on?” He snickered at you.

“Just terrible,” you teased, “so you really should jump in bed with me instead.”

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If you still think about him, it’s okay. It’s okay if you’re still waiting for his message. It’s okay if you can’t sleep at night because his memories haunts you. It’s okay to shed a tear or even a bucket of tears whenever you miss him. It’s okay to want him back and it’s hard for you to stop yourself from stalking his profile. It’s okay if you still love him and you’re hoping that he’ll come back. It’s okay to feel these things, to be sad over things that’s no longer there, to keep on loving someone who hurt you. Because one day, you’ll wake up and realize you’re over him. You won’t notice that he’s not your first thought in the morning. You’ll be surprised that it won’t hurt anymore, the wounds will stop from bleeding. You won’t totally forget him, but he will no longer cross your mind. You’ll realize that you don’t need him and being without him won’t make you any less. One day, you’ll get over him and you’ll love him in a different way.

carolinesforbessalvatore  asked:

I really loved everything that was said , and how the two proposals were different , first was more actions and this one was about the words that needs to be said , amazing 🗣

I think the words in the second proposal were really needed, it really summarized everything most of us have said about Stefan and Steroline the past two years and why Stefan is the way he is. He’s an idiot, and he thinks he’s unworthy of Caroline but she means everything to him and no matter how many times he tries to walk away from her for what he believes is her own good he always comes back. He can’t do it without her and he’ll spend everyday of his mortal life proving that to her. And I loved how it really brought back the “you’re my family now” with him saying he wants to help her raise her daughters and then help raise their grandchildren, this is his family.

calypsopond  asked:

Jeremwood, astroneers (bc I love that lets play and also your last fic made me emo) ((or fahc if ur not feelin it)), and safe

Ryan comes to in the infirmary, blinking past the harsh white lights, groaning as his head aches in pain. His head is foggy and it takes him several moments to figure out why he was here.

Oh. Right. He fell. Far.

Ryan hisses as he tries to sit up, but he doesn’t make it very far before there’s hands on his shoulder and a worried voice above him.

“Fucking hell, Ryan, just lay down,” Jeremy says, gently pushing the other back against the bed. “You don’t need to make it worse for yourself.”

“M’sorry,” Ryan mumbles, not really with it yet as he blinks over at Jeremy.

Jeremy just sighs, shaking his head. “You’re lucky we found you when we did. Next time, no going anywhere alone. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Ryan mutters, letting out a deep breath and looking around. He spots Gavin and Michael curled around each other on another infirmary bed. Not injured, just sleeping. It looks like they’ve been there a while and Ryan feels a pang of concern over thinking of the distress he’s caused the others.

Jeremy sighs again, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Get some rest, now.”

“M’kay,” Ryan says, letting his eyes close again and drifting off. The last thing he registers is a hand holding onto his own.

send me a character and a word and i’ll write a short ficlet.

When link no longer works, event is over.

Oh man, you guys.
Everything (everything) about this is harder than I thought it would be. From the wanting to meet baby’s every need to the sheer fatigue to the post partum recovery, everything takes a monumental effort. I spent almost an hour yesterday crying over the loss of my dear friend, poop.

When will he come back, that rascally rabbit?

Babes bilirubin levels were at a 13.5 last night. Slowly slowly dropping, but not enough to send us home. We did try putting her in a sleep sack with the wallaby last night, though. Hopefully that continued to give her the light therapy she needed without having to be in the light box 24:7. She has decided she hates the eye mask and has spent hours and hours fighting it.

I’ve been here for 6 days
just needing to be home.
With my baby.

thisladylovesmilktray  asked:

Klance. Star trek. Please.

Watch me struggle with my limited Star Trek knowledge.

“Pidge!” Keith shouts into his communicator. Lance’s body is heavy on his back, and his breath comes in ragged gasps.
“Can you get us back to the ship?! We can’t hold out much longer!” Keith presses them into a corner of the rock face, trying to hide from the spray of blasters being shot around them.
“You’re out of my range. I need you closer to the ship!” Pidges tinny voice rings in his ear.
“Shit.” Keith hisses. He hikes Lance further up his back.

First of all, here’s a disclaimer: I’m not accusing Jack of anything other than possibly being stressed and making mistakes, for which I completely forgive him. I apologize if I come off as a bit aggressive because that is not my intention.

So, a while ago I asked @therealjacksepticeye why he seemed so inactive on tumblr (compared to when I joined the community a few years back) and this was his answer.

Now at first, that answer was enough for me, until my curiosity and need to solve probelms took over and I tried searching Jacksepticeye on mobile, thinking “maybe there’s a ‘recent’ button he just hasn’t noticed”. And that’s exactly what I found:

Mobile is still shitty so in case the image doesn’t load, right under the search bar that reads “jacksepticeye”, there is a selection of options: Top, recent, gif, tumblrs, etc.

Picking the “recent” option, I scrolled down, looking the “a lot of repeated stuff” he mentioned, but all I found was a range of diverse fanart (from artist of all skill levels) and other related posts. Nothing I would find repetitive  on my dashboard.

So my hypothesis is Jack simply hasn’t noticed this bar of options, but I could be wrong and the problem could be more complex and not as easily solved. Either way, I really hope to get a response from him.

If you agree and want to help Jack see this post, I believe the best thing you can do is like/reblog so it might appear in the “top” posts. Thank you for taking the time to read my post.

The echo thunders back into his ears. He is alone. Some sort of cell. Back in Sherrinford? How had he come to be here? The theatre…

…before the world went all awry…

He has to get out of here. He can solve it; he must. “I need to go back!” he shouts, at the captor that must be listening, must be observing him, like a rat in a maze. “I can solve it; give me another chance!”

…But still the game’s afoot for those with ears…

i hate y’all

anonymous asked:

Did you know alexandtheplumbombs?He deactivated I think today and I already feel dead inside and I need to share my grief

yeahh it’s pretty sad :((
& the reasoning is understandable too so if it makes him happier go him! there’s always a small lil chance he’ll come back so don’t mourn just yet!!

anonymous asked:

Uh uh. Nope. We got enough of the Lucy/Flynn betrayal heartache in the finale, I cannot handle it in the trash saga too. Fix it! Fix it now! ... please?

yadda yadda the trash saga of flynn and lucy methinks you know the drill

The door shuts with a thump, Wyatt mutters something about could that proprietor have been giving them any more side-eye (to be fair, turning up with an injured, clearly dangerous, armed lunatic in tow does tend to have that effect) and he and Lucy heave Flynn onto the bed as he continues to glare red murder at both of them. His bullet wounds aren’t life-threatening, but they still need attention, and to judge from the amount of blood already spattered on his jacket, that should be sooner rather than later. Wyatt desperately needs to go back out and find the Lifeboat before John Rittenhouse comes looking for it (let him be good and distracted at this meeting of his, Lucy prays) and to try to find a way to contact Rufus. And as germ theory, Louis Pasteur, and Robert Koch are still another forty years away, any surgeon they can find here will be only marginally better than useless. Lucy knows more about it than they will, and she’s a doctor of history, not medicine. They had enough trouble finding a boarding house as it is, with the city packed for the inauguration, and Lucy isn’t sure she wants to draw attention to herself or their hiding place by going out and looking. “Wyatt,” she says. “You go. I’ll… take care of things on this end.”

He cocks a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Really? With him sitting there looking like he wants to bite your head – or other parts of you – off?”

“I can hear both of you, you know,” Flynn growls. “In case you were wondering.”

Wyatt shoots a black look at him, then turns back to Lucy, putting a protective hand on her arm. “Look,” he says, still more quietly. “I don’t know everything that happened while we were apart, and this is bad enough. But if Flynn has it in his head to hurt you for something – ”

“He’s not going to hurt me.” Let Flynn overhear that, if he’s so inclined. “You know we need the Lifeboat back online yesterday. I’ll figure something out. Rittenhouse could be sending out a squad to get it right now, and if we lose it too, we’re done for. Take care of yourself, okay?”

Wyatt pauses for a long and loathing moment, then nods tersely. His hand lingers on her arm (something that Lucy most assuredly sees Flynn’s eyes flicker to, for all his affection of viciously ignoring them) and then he lets go, turns away, and checks that he has his gun and it’s loaded. He takes Flynn’s too, with a very pointed look. Then he lets himself out, footsteps thumping away down the hall, and Lucy and Flynn are left alone in the small room, staring each other down, the tension thick enough to not only cut with a knife but serve for dessert lightly chilled. For the longest moment, neither of them says anything. Then Lucy goes to the wardrobe, opens one of the drawers, and starts rummaging around. Flynn watches her until curiosity finally gets the better of anger. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out how to stop you from being a dead body sewn into a mattress,” Lucy says shortly. “You could be the origin of the urban legend, you know.”

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