#custom table san diego

[kristopherkirkpatrick]

Live Edge Dining Table and Live Edge Coffee Tables on San Diego – Kristopher Kirkpatrick

Discover handcrafted live edge dining tables and live edge coffee tables made from reclaimed Claro Walnut, Curly Maple, and Figured Redwood. Custom-designed and built in San Diego, CA.

[ninus9607]

Lights, Camera, Action! - Elizabeth Olsen

Pairing(s): Elizabeth Olsen x Female! reader

Word count: 12,3K

tags: l content: slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, actress x actress, wlw MCU, smut, dominant! Lizzie, sub! reader, praise kink, possessive! Lizzie, hickeys & marks, dirty talk, soft smut, fluff, and smutpost-sex cuddles

AN: GUYS, I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE IT, PLS FORGIVE ME FOR EVERY MISTAKE

San Diego Comic-Con – Hall H

The lights in Hall H were brilliant, and the atmosphere was electric with expectation. I sat in my seat on the Marvel panel stage, my heart racing faster than it ever had on filming. This wasn't my first visit, but it was the first time anybody noticed I was here.

Two years ago, I played a "blink-and-you 'miss" character in Age of Ultron. A few lines. A powerful scene. A shadow in the midst of chaos. However, fans remembered. Somehow, they remembered.

I suppose Black Raven left a mark.

Kevin Feige came in close to the microphone, smirking as if he were about to unleash a bombshell. "Some of you might remember a mysterious character who appeared briefly in Age of Ultron."

A renegade force, morally gray and extremely strong... "A vampire who left the fight before the dust had settled."

Whispers spread across the room. The phones were already out. My name was already trending before he said anything.

"Well," he added, "I believe it's time she returned. This time, she's not hiding in the shadows.

He turned to face me. "Please welcome back Y/N Salvatore- returning as Y/C/N, also known as Black Raven, in Captain America: Civil War."

The audience exploded. I blinked under the stage lights, giving a little shocked smile as the room took me completely.

"I'm still trying to believe this is real," I added as the ovation went down. "The last time I came here, I got maybe three minutes of screen time and one stunt scene. Now I am here and just Wow!"

Laughter.

I looked down the table, and there she was. Elizabeth Olsen. Sitting a few chairs away and giving me that familiar half-smile. Soft and illegible. There's something more behind it. Curiosity. Recognition.

We hadn't shot anything together yet, not really. There was only one brief interaction in Ultron that never reached the final edit. But fans have been shipping our characters ever since. Perhaps it was the tension.

Perhaps it was the way my character had watched hers walk away from Sokovia, her face empty as if they had exchanged something neither of them could understand.

The Marvel team went on to other announcements, but I could sense excitement rising around me. Questions from the press. Fan art is already overwhelming social media. Speculation.

Wanda Maximoff and Black Raven are two shattered, deadly women on opposing sides of a conflict.

And somehow, they were destined to clash.

I looked across at Lizzie again.

She was still watching me.

God, I had no clue what was going to happen.

By the end of the panel, I felt like I was floating. The shouting of the audience, the dazzling glare of cameras, and the way supporters sang my name as if I'd always been one of them. As if I hadn't just slipped through the gaps in Ultron and nearly vanished for good.

Outside the hall, the air was dense and bustling. Fans flocked behind barriers with posters, comics, and custom art, and I foolishly attempted to stroll past secretly.

Did not work.

"Y/N! Over here!"

"Oh my god, Black Raven!"

"Please sign this!"

I looked down at a poster of my character, dark and majestic in the shadows, fangs barely visible, red flames curling around her fingers. They even got the cloak correctly. And the eyes—burning with something wild.

"I didn't even know people still cared," I said, surprised as I signed the edge.

"They never forgot you," a devoted fan muttered.

I continued signing. Posters. A sketch of Black Raven and Wanda holding hands and staring at one another like lovers. A shirt with the phrase, "I Do Believe In Killing The Messenger. Know Why? Because It Sends A Message." One female gave me a little plush replica of my character. I laughed so hard I almost cried.

That night, when I returned to my hotel room, the adrenaline hadn't even worn off. I threw off my shoes, opened a soda, and cuddled up on the bed in my huge con sweater. Just as I was going to cruise lazily on Instagram, a fresh notification appeared.

"Robert Downey Jr. added you to the group 'Avengers Assemble 💥'"

I blinked. Then blinked again.

A flood of messages came:

(RDJ) well well well. look who's back from the dead

 (Chris E.): about time

 (Tom H.): I've literally been waiting since I was twelve

 (Lizzie 🥀): welcome back, stranger

(ScarJo): don't read the fine print. you're already in too deep

 (Hemsworth 🍺): A VAMPIRE! I KNEW I LIKED YOU

I laughed into my pillow. What the hell is my life right now?

My fingers hovered over the group chat. I typed, deleted, and then finally sent:

 (You): wait... what exactly did I sign up for?

 (RDJ): That's cute. She thinks she has a choice.

(Lizzie 🥀): don't worry. you're safe with us.

 (Lizzie 🥀): ...mostly.

I bit my lip, rereading the last message. My heart did something strange. Probably just the Coke. Or the heat. On the other hand, Lizzie sent a winking emoji immediately after.

I hadn't even read the entire script yet. I wasn't sure where my character was headed. Whether Black Raven would fight with or against Wanda. Whether they were enemies or anything else.

The sun filtered through the hotel drapes, creating a golden and gentle glow. I lay there for a time, taking in the peaceful morning mood. My body hurt in that slow, wonderful manner after yesterday's rush of panels, autographs, and screaming fans. I should have felt tired. I should have grumbled, nestled further into the cushions, and requested for another five minutes.

But I did not.

Because this was the day.

This is my first official Marvel table read since Age of Ultron. My actual return. Not just a postscript. Not as a supporting character with two lines and a beautiful battle scene. But as a true player, Black Raven. People remember the vampire antiheroes.

I took a long shower, letting the water calm my worries, the steam wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. Once dry, I stood in front of the closet for a little moment, just long enough to feel a flutter in my chest.

I wanted to feel like myself. But I also wanted to appear like I belonged here.

I put on cut black pants that hugged my waist well and made me feel quietly strong. A fresh white shirt was tucked in with a relaxed grace, and I layered on a lightweight, long camel coat that murmured gentle luxury.

Small gold hoops, silver rings, and a pair of glossy black loafers that catch the light. No logos. There's no chaos. Simply classic lines and calm assurance.

I left my hair down, brushed and elegant, with a single clip on the side to keep it out of my face. Makeup was clean, smooth, and very effortless. A little brow gel, a pop of color, and tinted lip balm.

I gazed into the mirror.

European subtlety with a biting undertone. That was me!

The studio sent a vehicle. Standard black SUV with silent driver and darkened windows. Very Marvel. I sat in the back with my coffee, pretending I wasn't sweating.

When I got to the lot, someone from production greeted me with a badge and a big smile. "They're all inside already. "You are sitting between Anthony and Lizzie."

"Lizzie?"

"Elizabeth Olsen."

"Cool," I blurted far too hastily. "Cool, cool, cool."

The door to the reading room opened, and I walked into a strange little dream. Long table. Dozens of chairs. Familiar faces, some I'd only seen in films, others I'd met briefly years before.

Scarlett Johansson gave me a wink and a nod. Sebastian Stan lifted his coffee as a toast. Chris Evans grinned and patted me on the back. "About damn time."

Then Lizzie.

She was already sitting, thumbing through the script, her hair in a loose braid, and a comfortable, oversized sweater flowing down one shoulder. She glanced up the instant I walked in, and her face brightened.

Like, genuinely lights up.

"Hey, stranger," she whispered quietly, rising to hug me.

I froze for a half-second. Just a second. Then I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly. She smelled like honey, coffee, and something warm that I couldn't identify.

"You look like you belong here," she said softly against my ear. "You ready to break hearts?"

"Only if you help," I said back.

She drew away, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn't identify.

We sat down. Anthony Mackie leaned in and said, "Just so you know, there are already fan edits of you two spreading."

Lizzie smiled without looking up. "I've seen them."

The reading started.

Tony had lines. So did Steve. But as the image transitioned to Wanda and Black Raven, Wanda stopped outside a decaying structure, her hand lifted in midair as Y/N came from the shadows. I could feel a shift in the collective reaction.

I read my line carefully, eyes fixed on the page. "Did you miss me, little witch?" My European accent went on.

And Lizzie... God! Lizzie's voice dropped an octave. "You were supposed to be dead."

I gazed at her. She stared at me.

The table remained still. Someone let out a faint whistle. Someone another said, "Y'all need a moment?"

We laughed. Just enough to release the stress.

But that moment lasted.

After the reading, everyone went for notes, coffee, and chaos. I found myself near the studio lot, seated on a low wall behind a shade tree, phone in hand, but forgotten. Lizzie stepped up with two iced lattes and offered one to me.

"You were incredible," she stated. "Like you never left."

She raised her head. "Still haven't read the whole script?"

I shake my head. "Trying to savor it. I don't want to learn everything too quickly."

She grinned slowly. "Then I will not spoil it. "But...you and I have some scenes."

"Oh?"  WHAT???????

"Some very close ones." ARE YOU KIDDING ME, MARVEL

My cheekbones warmed. "You say that like it's a problem."

"It's not." She stared me dead in the eyes, funny yet serious below. "Unless you make it one."

And before I could say anything else, before I could even think, she was walking away, sipping her drink, hips swaying like a goddess in worn jeans and an Avengers crew hoodie.

I stared after her, heart hammering like I'd just survived a stunt scene.

Welcome back to Marvel, I thought.

A few months later.

Most of the nervous butterflies had disappeared by this point. The set had become like a second home, filled with familiar voices and traditions. I wasn't simply a new girl anymore. Everyone made it simple.

Chris gave me the nicest bear hugs and always made sure I ate my lunch. Scarlett had the type of cool that made you want to better your game, yet she always welcomed me with a warm smile and a "Hey, superstar." Anthony Mackie was an utter menace - but in the most lovable manner possible. Paul Bettany kept asking me to read poems between takes, saying it was "very Black Raven of you."

And Robert? He was like my dad!

"And Lizzie..." Lizzie was something else completely.

She'd knock on my door, holding a coffee in one hand and a protein snack in the other, as if she knew just when I needed her. Her jokes were dry, her eyes mischievous, and I'd caught myself looking a bit too long on several occasions.

We had gotten close. She was close enough to connect her arm with mine as we headed to the set. My heart skipped a beat every time she leaned close to murmur something only I could hear.

I knew exactly what I was doing.

I simply didn't know whether she did.

That afternoon, I was sitting with one of the directors, Joe, just outside the soundstage. The sun was casting a wandering light on the edge of the asphalt lot as he ran through the following several days' sequences.

"So, for next week," Joe remarked, brushing through his tablet, "we have the rooftop scene. You and Wanda are alone. It's the first time your character truly opens up."

I tilted my head, wondering. "What kind of open up are we talking about?"

He grinned. "The slow-burning sort. The 'I might not trust the Avengers, but I trust you' type."

My face felt heated.

He caught it as he looked up. "You good with that?"

"Yeah. No, yes. I mean, it's a great scene," I said, flicking through my copy of the script. "So, it's just me and Lizzie on the rooftop. At night?"

Joe nodded. "Right after the dramatic battle sequence. You are both still startled. Then it's silent. That time when the city hums under you and there is no goal or strategy. Just—" He hesitated and grinned. "Just feelings."

I swallowed. "Right. Feelings."

I sat in my trailer, flipping over the script. The rooftop scene.

It wasn't romantic, officially. But it may be.

Wanda looks at Y/N with gentle eyes. Y/N does not flinch for the first time. They don't quite touch. But it is near. Too close. 

CMON Y/N, U GOT THIS! YOU ARE A TALENTED ACTRESS, DON'T U?

Interior Set – Rooftop at Night – Scene 57

When I arrived at the rooftop set, the wind machines were already rumbling. Lights positioned to resemble a dark skyline threw long shadows across the faux-concrete, and I adjusted the black leather of my outfit as I proceeded to my destination.

Lizzie was already there, in her deep red coat, gaze faraway and focused, and falling into Wanda's sorrow.

Joe made a few parting remarks off camera, but I hardly heard him. My fingertips brushed over the hilt of the false dagger on my thigh. The character's familiar weight slipped into my chest like a second skin. I wasn't Y/N Salvatore anymore. I was Black Raven.

"Ready?" the assistant director called.

"Rolling!" came from the sound.

"Slate in!"

The clack of the slate snapped, and then - 

"Action!"

I let my gaze fall to the city skyline in front of me, taking in the depth of the picture and the severity of what I was going to say. The director, Joe, was allowing us space to relax into the spirit of the moment. I needed it.

I took a breath and proceeded carefully toward Wanda, each step thoughtful and silent. Raven's boots reverberated softly on the rooftop floor. My expression was inscrutable, meticulously crafted, calm on the surface, chaos beneath.

"Why are you here?" Lizzie spoke, her voice as raspy as Wanda's. She avoided looking at me at first, as if it hurt too much.

Raven paused. Her gaze searched the devastation below. Blood had flowed. Soldiers had died.

"You still believe in me," I said — Raven said. Her tone was not desperate. It was not a plea. Just pure curiosity. "Even after everything."

Wanda finally met her eyes.

"Because you've never hurt me."

A pause.

"And because you care... even when you don't want anyone to see it."

My expression flared. Not too much. Just enough to show that anything impacted her insides. My jaw clenched. I came closer, slowly and cautiously, as if Wanda was something I might damage simply by being near her.

Raven's voice lowered to almost a whisper now. "Maybe I'm tired of hiding."

And then, unexpectedly, her breath caught. Her face crumbled in the simplest, most human manner. Her shoulders twisted inward, as if she were sinking beneath an unseen weight, and tears welled up in her eyes, quiet, genuine, quivering on her eyelids.

"They're still arguing about whether you're dangerous or just reckless."

I smirked. "They're not wrong."

"I saw what you did out there," she said. "To those soldiers."

"They were trying to blow up a refugee truck," I answered casually. "So I ripped their throats out. Problem solved."

"You could've taken them down without... that."

"I could have," I replied, finally turning to face her. "But where is the fun in that?"

"You're not heartless."

Lizzie's voice trembled just slightly, even as her magic buzzed through the air like a quiet hum between us. "You just don't waste your heart on the wrong people."

"I never asked for this," I whispered, voice strained. "I just wanted to protect something, for once."

Then tears began to fall.

Not in the script.

Not planned.

I could sense that everyone was watching.

"You don't have to do it alone," Lizzie said quietly, coming in closer and gently placing her forehead on Y/N's. "We will figure it out. Together."

"Cut!"

I blinked once and again. Straightened. I took a silent step back, shrugged my shoulders, and wiped the tear from beneath my eye with my knuckle as if it were just another spread of makeup.

The entire crew remained quiet.

And then

Applause.

Real, loud applause.

"Holy shit," I heard someone from the lights mutter.

Joe went forward with a shocked expression and raised his hands. "That, whatever it was, we're keeping it. There is no second take."

Lizzie continued to gaze at me, her eyes wide. "How do you do that?" she muttered. "Like—switch it on and off like that?"

I laughed softly, removing an unwanted strand of hair from my face. "I drink a lot of espresso and don't think about it too much."

She grinned slowly, a little confused. "You were amazing."

"You made it easy," I replied softly, my voice totally Y/N again. "Your Wanda breaks my heart."

Joe walked over, his expression surprised. "That... was beyond incredible. Y/N, Elizabeth—your chemistry, the way you two just... felt that scene. I can't even put it into words. That was... magic."

But I felt it.

The way everyone looked at me has changed a little differently now.

The way Lizzie did, especially.

And I couldn't help but wonder, was it still just acting?

My phone lights up...

"Don't judge me," Robert said via text. "But I'm very certain I ate something suspicious today. "

I giggled softly to myself before scrolling down to see what others had said- Chris had tweeted a photo of himself "prepping for battle" with a pile of weights stacked around him. Then I received a text from Lizzie.

(Lizzie 🥀)I'm curious, Y/N: do you ever simply... quit being Black Raven? Is she always on your mind?

The message she wrote took me off guard, sending a shudder down my spine. I quickly composed my reply.

(You)I wish I could claim I left her on set, but she stays. But when you work with people like you, Lizzie, it's difficult not to bring her out, you know?

I waited for a bit, my pulse pumping slightly quicker than normal as I expected her reaction. But before I could think about it, my phone rang again.

(Lizzie 🥀)Hmm, maybe I'll give Wanda a chance at her. 😉 The chemistry is obvious.

I smiled, though no one could see it. I wasn't sure if she was still talking about our characters or something more personal. Perhaps both.

(You): Is this a challenge? Because Black Raven will not back down from one.

I sat back, exhaled, and smiled slightly. Was it a flirtation? I couldn't tell, but I didn't mind being unclear. For once, I wanted to let the words hang in the air without overthinking them. After all, everything was in good humor.

(RDJ) (After Lizzie's message): That's all. Y/N and Lizzie are now a real thing. Someone bring the popcorn.

I blinked, thoroughly caught off guard. Wait, was he talking about the chat? About us?

(Chris E.): You know what? I think they'd make an excellent couple. Don't you think?

(You): Lol, okay, okay, maybe I've had too much espresso today.

The studio lights had been bright for hours, and my legs hurt from running through take after take. The strain that came from filming Captain America: Civil War was finally easing as we took a break and spread across the set, ready for the next scene. The entire team had gathered in the makeup room to cool down, get food, and do everything they could to rest for a few seconds before the chaos returned.

I found myself standing in the corner of the room, trying to recover my breath while checking my phone for emails, texts, and the usual disaster. Lizzie walked in, her hair still a little filthy from the previous takes but looking effortlessly gorgeous as always. She gave me a heart-stopping smile, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"How's the new Black Raven scene going?" Lizzie asked, leaning on the counter near me. Her voice was sweet and playful, as if she understood how hard the day had been.

I rolled my eyes theatrically. "Oh, you understand. Running, battling, and being hit by objects I'm supposed to avoid. A typical day in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, right?"

Lizzie chuckled, her eyes bright with delight. "I'm sure it's nothing compared to the battle we're about to have in the next scene."

I raised my eyebrow at her. "Are you telling me Wanda is going to fight Black Raven? I'm all in on that."

Lizzie shrugged lightly, but I saw how her gaze lingered on mine a little longer than needed. "Who knows? Perhaps we'll be on the same side. Or not. You never know with us. "We have history."

That final part caught my attention.. She said it casually, but there was something more beneath the words, making me question if she was hinting at something more. "So, what do you think about the future?" Will we be best friends or enemies?" I asked, hoping to keep the discussion light, but I could see the air between us shifting, charged with something more.

Lizzie paused, her lips twisting into a cheeky grin. "I believe we could have some interesting chemistry on screen. You and I."

"Alright, guys," Joe Russo's voice echoed through the room, "let's get ready for the next shot."

The Filming Break

After another long sequence, the team took a break, and I found myself seated next to Lizzie again. This time, we were joined by a few other cast members, but the space between Lizzie and me felt different, as if there was an invisible thread pulling us together, even though we were sitting around chatting. We chuckled about the most recent scenario, in which our characters were meant to face off in a dramatic battle.

"You looked incredible in that fight scene," Lizzie added, her eyes shining with real adoration. "I have to admit, I didn't expect to be that ruthless."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Hey, this is all part of the character. But it's difficult to keep a straight face when we're dressed in silly costumes."

There was a silent moment, and the sound of the team preparing the next shot resonated in the distance. But it was not my top priority. I was concentrated on Lizzie, her eyes meeting mine,

"Maybe we could do that," I replied gently, my pulse pounding slightly quicker. "After we finish filming, might we... have a drink? Talk about life beyond the MCU?"

Lizzie's expression softened, and I could see a change in her eyes. She was considering it. "I'd like that," she murmured, barely rising above a whisper.

The last take had just finished, and the entire set burst into cheers. Some of us cheered and accepted. I stood there, hands on my hips, gathering my breath, my heart rushing from adrenaline rather than actual effort.

Months of filming, endless takes, bruises, sweat, early mornings, and late nights resulted in this: the final fight sequence in Berlin.

We were still in costume, half-covered in fake dirt, sweat seeping down between layers of leather, yet no one cared. There was a thrill, the type you feel after doing something incredible.

One of the assistants rolled in a monitor, and the director called out, "Alright, gather around. Let's watch the last sequence. You've earned it."

The screen began to light up. The first few clips of the Berlin combat began to play, with all the uncut footage patched together by one of the editors, who worked like magic. We watched as Cap and Tony fought, Peter helped with his spider ability, and Scott transformed into an actual giant.

But then came the moment we all waited for.

Wanda, or Lizzie in full Scarlet Witch beauty, flew over the asphalt and landed hard. The camera switched to a wide shot. A burst of black feathers and red energy appeared on the screen.

There I was, racing full speed at her, my boots hitting the concrete with amazing elegance. I sank to my knees next to her, scared yet cool. The sound wasn't completely mixed yet, but we could still hear the speech perfectly.

"You shouldn't have stayed behind."

"And let you go alone?" Never."

"You betrayed Tony."

"I don't care."

Everyone else made some kind of noise—"Oof," "Damn," "Okay, chemistry!" but I hardly heard it. I was looking at the screen too much. Specifically, on me, who was almost straining not to gaze at Wanda's chest in that fitting corset. And failing.

Badly.

Lizzie's lips twitched into a grin, and I noticed this out of the corner of my eye. She leaned down and said, "You were definitely not looking at my chest all the time in that scene."

Let forth a faint, regretful chuckle. "I stayed in character."

"Oh, sure," she said, sipping her coffee like a smug witch. "Black Raven was just emotionally overwhelmed by the... depth of Wanda's neckline."

By the time the last fight scene appeared on the monitor, the audience had quieted.

Everything stopped, including the conversation, taunting, and rustling of the food. We all sat there, actors still clad in half-costumes, sweating, hanging to our foreheads, our gaze fixed on the screen. The Berlin conflict was chaotic, but this was something else.

Tony. Steve. Bucky.

It wasn't simply punches and shields anymore; betrayal, sorrow, and desperation were woven into every action. Every punch was personalized. Every breath was heaviest.

When the shield collided with the arc reactor, there was a collective inhalation.

Nobody spoke. Nobody had to.

I noticed Chris and Robert seated side by side, both appearing much more serious than normal. Sebastian had his arms folded and his eyes squinted. Lizzie's fingers remained motionless against the sleeve of her sweatshirt, her knuckles white.

Then the screen went dark.

And another scene started.

Steve stormed down the Raft's hallways, mouth clenched, eyes scouring each gloomy path. The emergency lights flashed to a low red. The doors burst open. Guards had died. Empty cells.

Everyone leaned forward.

We hadn't viewed the footage yet—it wasn't done. Despite knowing what was about to happen, my stomach fluttered. I recalled shooting it and the weight of it. The atmosphere on set had been strained that day.

The camera followed Steve through the prison until he came to a stop.

Right there, bodies sprawled over the floor. Wanda's cell broke open. Debris. Smoke. Chaos.

Then the Woman emerged from the darkness, boots clicking on damp concrete.

Black Raven.

Me.

Drenched in blood, with tangled hair, the black villain's outfit is ripped and wild, like shadows sewn to skin. My character was motionless—except for her arms, which clutched Wanda against her chest. Wanda's hand grabbed my shoulder weakly.

Steve's voice resonated and was raspy. "What did you do?"

"What you would not do. Do not try to stop me, no one will hurt her again. And be careful, Captain. You're only alive because she likes you. And everything on my body wants to murder you, so stand aside."

The place nearly burst.

"Holy shit," Anthony Mackie said, half-standing. "That was badass."

"That's gonna break the internet," Scarlett said, her eyes still wide.

I saw myself on film taking Wanda to the Helicopter before turning around and disappearing into the darkness.

Chris whistled softly. "That's when the audience knows she isn't just a villain. She's something else entirely."

"I've got chills," Lizzie muttered near me.

Paul blinked. "Did... did your character kill all of them by herself?"

I gave a little smile. "She did."

"I love her," Robert announced. "She is terrifying. I love her."

Sebastian nudged me. "You looked like a vampire version of Batman."

"Thanks, I think?"

"No, seriously," the director interrupted, arms folded as he inspected the monitor. "That moment, when she carries Wanda like that? That isn't simply dark; it's loyalty. You can feel it."

Lizzie did not say anything immediately. She simply leaned in again and murmured, "You looked like you'd set the world on fire for her."

I looked at her, my lips parted slightly.

"And you looked like you'd let me."

She blushing but did not look away.

"Okay," Chris broke the quiet. "But can we talk about how Steve literally shows up ready to break them out, and Y/N's already done it and left a dramatic calling card?"

"I like a little flair," I shrugged.

"You carried me like a bride," Lizzie teased.

"You looked like one," I shot back without thinking.

She blinked.

So did I.

Scarlett grinned, she knew. "Guys get a room please, your eye fucking is too much even for me."

Jimmy Fallon show - a few months later

The lights came on strong, and the applause was louder than I imagined, but honestly? I was too high on adrenaline to notice.

Walking onto the Tonight Show set with the rest of the Avengers cast was unreal. The audience exploded as if we were true superheroes - Sebastian grinned, Robert blew kisses, Chris and Anthony began arguing playfully, and Scarlett walked like she ruled the building (she kinda did).

I greeted, smiled, and hugged Jimmy Fallon before sliding into my seat between Lizzie and Paul. Not by accident.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jimmy announced dramatically once we had all settled down, "we have the most powerful couch on Earth right now."

 "So," Jimmy leaned forward, fingers steepled, "Captain America: Civil War. Huge feelings. Large fighting. There's a lot of confusion. And some new faces..."

He grinned as he turned to face me. "Y/N Salvatore, Black Raven herself, welcome to the madness."

The audience applauded again. I giggled gently and smoothed my dress.

"Thank you," I said. "I'm still not sure how I ended up here. One day I'm filming in a castle cellar in Romania, and the next I'm avoiding flying vehicles,"

"You're incredible in the movie," Jimmy replied. "The prison scene? You're carrying Wanda out like you're a goth vampire knight in shining armor?"

The crowd howled. Lizzie gave a little sigh beside me, covering her mouth to conceal a chuckle.

"I-I was doing my best, okay?" I shrugged. "Black Raven is a little dramatic. It's in her blood."

Chris said, "She also kills like... twenty guards in under a minute," his eyes wide. "I was like - did we just add a slasher villain to the team?"

"She's not a villain," Lizzie insisted, remarkably adamant. "She's complicated."

I gazed at her. She stared at me.

Jimmy blinked. "Oh, hello."

More laughs. Robert leaned into his microphone. "This has been going on through the press trip. I swear to God."

"Don't look at us like that!" Lizzie protested, her cheeks flushing just enough to be noticed.

"Okay, but," Jimmy said, pulling out a single shot from the tape of me kneeling by Wanda, cradling her protectively, blood streaming from my hands. "You can't blame us for shipping it."

Cue the crowd losing their heads.

Scarlett laughed. "They have unreal chemistry. Like, we all saw it."

"Yeah," Anthony nodded. "Even between takes, they were still looking at each other like—"

"Finish that sentence and I swear—" I warned, but I was laughing too hard to sound serious.

Jimmy grinned. "Okay, alright. We'll keep things cool for now. But truly, your performance was incredible. The emotional intensity, the silence, the uncertainty..."

He turned back to face the group. "Was anyone else on set just like... watching her and forgetting to act?"

Paul raised his hand. "I did. Twice. I got yelled at."

Sebastian nodded. "I tripped over my line."

I ducked my head and grinned. "Now you're all just being sweet."

"No," Lizzie responded quietly. "You were real. And it is unusual."

The room was silent for a little moment. Just enough for me to notice how near her knee was to mine again. And how warm her hand felt as it lightly touched mine as the talk progressed.

We laughed, mocked, and acted out our biggest blunders (Chris screwed up his shield flip and smacked a bulb. Classic). Jimmy showed a montage of us dancing behind the scenes—yes, there was an uncomfortable moment when Lizzie and I spun around in full costume as the stunt squad looked at us like puzzled pups.

But the moment that stuck?

When Jimmy pulled out a fan-edited clip of Black Raven and Wanda with the title: "Born To Burn – A Love Between Fire and Shadow".

And we both blushed like idiots.

I was still laughing at Paul's impersonation of Vision trying yoga when Jimmy leaned in again, this time with that sparkle in his eye that suggested he was ready to stir things up.

"Alright, alright," he murmured, interrupting the laughter. "I know I can't expect too much, but come on... We need to discuss what comes next."

I felt my smile freeze slightly.

"What about the new Avengers lineup? Perhaps a secret antihero will make more appearances?" He raised an eyebrow wildly and fixed his eyes on me. "Y/N, will we be seeing more of Black Raven in the future?"

The audience reacted with a chorus of excited gasps and cheers, with some admirers in the first row already screaming my character's name.

I opened my lips, not knowing what to say.

Scarlett, thankfully, jumped in first. "If she tells you anything, Feige will literally teleport here and kill us all."

Everyone laughed, but Jimmy was not finished.

"Oh, come on," he responded, smirking. "No teases?" "Not even a hint?"

I attempted to maintain a neutral look, but my stomach was already in knots. I hadn't even read the final script for the following step. Rumors were flowing, and the pressure was building, but was it true? I wasn't sure what I was permitted or wanted to say.

I glanced down immediately, attempting to seem casual, but my fingers curled a bit harder around the edge of the couch seat.

Then I felt it.

A soft, comforting hand gently touched my thigh, right above my knee.

Lizzie.

She said nothing and didn't even look at me. Her gaze was still fixed on Jimmy, and her smile was as calm and dazzling as ever. But her thumb glided gently back and forth on the material of my dress.

It was a tiny gesture. Soft. Subtle. But stable.

I inhaled gently through my nose, urging my shoulders to remain calm. My heart, which had begun to stutter in my chest, resumed its normal rhythm.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," I eventually said, giving Jimmy a faint smirk. "But I do think the universe of Black Raven still has some shadows left to explore."

Jimmy lifted both brows and glanced around at the others. "That... felt like a yes."

Robert clapped his hands once. "That was a studio-trained 'I can't answer this' voice if I've ever heard one."

"Ten out of ten," Chris said. "Very smooth."

Lizzie's hand squeezed my thigh, barely noticeable, but she never took her hand off me.

I took a quick glimpse at her.

She didn't look at me. But the sweetest smile tugged on the corner of her lips.

Time passed...

The premier light finally faded. The press junkets slowed. The constant travel, fittings, early call times, and all-day shootings were finally over—or at least put on hold. But even after I returned to my own small corner of the earth, a peaceful house in New Jersey, the Marvel craziness continued.

Naturally, I kept in touch with the cast. That part was simple.

Group discussions were filled with inside jokes and memes. Chris still sent way too many selfies of himself and Dodger. Scarlett dropped voice messages that never made sense, and Robert constantly sent me culinary recommendations no matter where I was in the world.

And then there was Lizzie.

We chatted. Often.

Sometimes it was simply voice messages at 2 a.m. We sometimes had extended FaceTime chats while she was cooking. Sometimes, there was silence, yet it didn't feel far. Just...quiet comfort. Her name was constantly visible at the top of my texts. My thoughts were continuously drawn back to her.

I wasn't quite sure what we were. But I knew we weren't simply friends—that didn't seem right anymore.

It had been pouring outdoors when this happened.

I was tucked up in my favorite oversized sweatshirt, covered in a throw blanket, and sipping chamomile tea while reading through a stack of forgotten mail and half-read magazines that were gathering on the kitchen counter.

Then one headline attracted my attention.

"Scarlet Spell? Black Raven & Wanda Maximoff Actress Spotted Hand-in-Hand After Intimate NYC Dinner"

My stomach dropped, then fluttered.

I focused on the glossy photo printed over the bottom half of the tabloid. It was grainy, somewhat dark, but clearly us. Lizzie and I were going along a quiet street at night after supper last week. I had entirely forgotten that photographers were standing near that restaurant. She was giggling, her head slightly tilted back, and my hand was in hers.

Not for the camera. Not for public relations.

Just... her fingers curled around mine as if they belonged there.

I sat back on the barstool and looked at the paper.

Part of me panicked. What about the other part? I kind of didn't care.

I grabbed for my phone, my fingers hesitating over Lizzie's number.

Before I could start typing, a fresh message appeared on the screen.

Lizzie🩶: You saw it? 🙈 ...We look cute tho, not gonna lie.

Later that night...

My phone buzzed again, this time with an incoming FaceTime call from Lizzie.

I barely hesitated before responding.

Her face dominated the screen, lighted only by the warmth from her bedside lamp. Hair slightly messy, large sweatshirt, no makeup - it's simply her. She still managed to look like a dream.

"Hey," she responded, her voice mild and somewhat raspy. "You okay?"

I grinned and tucked my knees up to my chest. "You mean after our small-town scandal broke the internet?"

Lizzie laughed. "Right, I forgot, hand-holding, the most forbidden act."

"I know," I teased. "Next thing you know,w we'll be... smiling at each other in public."

"Oh, the horror."

We both laughed, slipping into that comfortable rhythm, the easy warmth that only comes from being with someone you trust.

There was a nice pause, although it lasted a little longer than normal.

"You looked good in that photo," she ultimately replied, her gaze shifting away from the camera for a moment. "Not that this is news. You always do."

I blinked, my lips parted slightly. "You, too. You looked happy."

She shrugged casually. "I was. I mean-I am. With you. It's always fun."

"Fun?" I teased, raising an eyebrow. "That's what I am to you?"

Lizzie leaned closer to the TV, smiling. "Maybe a little more than fun."

The butterflies in my stomach grew into something heavier.

And then—

DING!

A group chat notification slid across the top of the screen. "RDJ 🧃🥸: Alright nerds, suit up. We've got a new project to talk about 👀🦸‍♂️ #avengersassembleagain"

I blinked and then laughed out. "Did he seriously just—"

Lizzie was already rolling her eyes and grinning. "Of course he did."

"I didn't even get time to emotionally recover from the last one."

"We never do," she said. "That's the Marvel way."

I gazed back at her via the screen. A glimmer of passion. Her eyes sparkled.

"So," I asked gently, "Do you think we'll work together again?"

She smiled more slowly this time. "I really hope so."

I leaned my cheek against my hand. "Yeah. Me, too."

INT. CONVENTION HALL – MARVEL PRESS CONFERENCE 

The stage was stylish. The backdrop said, "Marvel Studios: Phase 4 - Expanding the Universe." The rows of reporters, camera crews, and executives packed the room. The air was alive with curiosity.

I sat next to Lizzie, my posture excellent, and tried not to mess with the pen in my hand. Everyone had papers in front of them with secret Marvel material. Contracts. NDAs. Early outlines of the initiative, which we were here to publicly reveal.

I'd already read mine, attempting to keep my eyes from widening at the images I was in. And, more especially, who I was with throughout them.

Robert leaned down and said, "Have you read page 73 yet?" OH LORD, SEX SCENE...

I gave him a sideways glance. "Don't get me started."

He grinned and leaned back, as though he already knew everything.

Kevin Feige entered the stage. "The next film is something personal. We're sticking with a darker tone and more grounded emotion—but also something fans have been asking for."

The Russo Brothers then emerged, wearing their typical cool and cryptic expressions.

Anthony said that Y/N Hale and Wanda Maximoff would have a significant story in the next film.

The audience did not respond for a second.

And then, BOOM.

Gasps, whispers, and a few shouts. People began making notes and raising their hands. One reporter asked, "Romantic?"

Lizzie's gaze shifted toward me.

Joe nodded. "We can't say more."

My cheeks burned. I gulped water as if my life depended on it.

Chris Evans leaned forward and murmured, "You two are already trending. Check Twitter."

Scarlett gave me a slow smirk. "Better get used to the spotlight again, rookie."

I tried to hide my grin as I signed the last page of my contract. Black ink. Official.

Marvel had just made it canon.

And suddenly, we were the storyline.

INT. OUTDOOR MARVEL STUDIOS LOT – LUNCH TENT

The sun was warm overhead, creating a golden glow over the Marvel lot. A big picnic-style table was set up beneath an umbrella, and it was packed with known faces, including Chris Hemsworth with three protein bowls in front of him, Sebastian mocking Mackie, Tom Holland jumping in his seat, and RDJ at the head like some cheeky monarch.

I sat tucked between Scarlett and Lizzie, pecking at my salad and trying not to seem too excited.

Chris Evans sat down opposite us, sliding his tray as if he owned the table. "Okay, let us discuss Infinity War. No spoilers, but I read the script last night and"

"—You read the script?" Tom cut in quickly. "I've been given, like, three pages, and one of them was blacked out!"

Everyone came out laughing.

"Tom, you're literally the reason we have that many NDAs," Mackie said, pointing at him.

"I'm an innocent boy!" Tom gasped in his English accent.

"Sure you are," Sebastian murmured, his mouth full of fries.

Lizzie leaned over to me, lips close to my ear. "Have you read your scenes yet?"

"Not all," I said, clicking my nails on my water bottle. "But I saw one where I—uh—jump between two crumbling buildings and Wanda save me out mid-collapse?"

She grinned slowly.

"Maybe Marvel's trying to tell you something," Scarlett replied, without looking up from her dish.

Everyone turned.

"What?" She grinned and shrugged. "I see everything."

"Honestly, though," Hemsworth said, "the energy you two bring? Electric. I'm kind of jealous."

"Agreed," RDJ said. Seeing your connection on screen is like witnessing a solo film romance inserted into a superhero film. Very broody and intense."

Lizzie and I exchanged looks. I attempted to laugh it off, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"We're just... committed to the characters," I explained, attempting to maintain a cheerful tone.

"Right," Sebastian responded, exaggerating. "Very... method."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't you have a brooding scene to rehearse or something?"

Chris Evans smiled. "I ship it."

Tom blinked. "You mean in the movie?"

RDJ leaned back, his sunglasses glinting. "Sure, let's say that."

Lizzie's hand brushed mine under the table again, intentionally, softly. I looked down. She didn't move it. Neither did I.

"Okay, no spoilers," Feige called as he passed by with his own tray. "But can we all agree this cast is going to break hearts in Infinity War?"

"Oh, they're not ready," Scarlett said, gesturing between Lizzie and me with her fork. "Especially not for these two."

I hid my face in my cup. Lizzie just chuckled lowly beside me.

The sun was beginning to set behind the sound stages, coloring the sky in gold and pink. I was snuggled up on the little sofa in my trailer, script pages spread out on my lap, but I wasn't reading anymore.

Instead, I found myself looking at a specific scene, one in which my character and Wanda kiss and have sex.  We're supposed to shoot it today. This is my first time on a Marvel movie with wlw intimate scenes, and I am quite nervous. There is also a sex scene with Lizzie, so ahhh.... This was not the first time our characters had kissed. Not by far. But... it was the one that lingered in my chest the most.

It wasn't difficult to pretend I was dating Wanda Maximoff. If anything, it was too simple. Sometimes I told myself that this was the most natural character I'd ever performed. The gentle stares, the lingering touches, the calm times between explosions when she'd grab my hand—it no longer seemed like acting. It felt like breathing.

The only thing that was not real was the kisses. And yet, every time Lizzie's lips touched mine on camera, I fell a bit deeper.

The first few times had been playful. Nervous laughs, gentle chuckles when the director yelled cut. But recently, Lizzie had changed. There was a change. There is a dominance to the way she touches me now- less hesitant, more confident. Her fingertips on my jaw, her thumb caressing my face, the gentle way she guided me through the scene.

And I let her. Gladly.

God, I probably looked like an idiot, leaning into her every action as if gravity drew me there.

I remembered the last scene we'd shot: her v me against the wreckage, and our characters finally having a raw moment of confession. Her forehead was pushed against mine, her breathing unsteady, and for a minute... I wasn't sure whether Wanda or Lizzie was whispering, "I can't lose you."

There was a knock on my trailer door just as I'd finished tying my robe.  I was still mentally pacing, flipping through the revised script pages for today's shoot.

Not graphic, not that kind of sex scene, but still intimate. Slow, emotional, intense.

"Come in," I called, voice just a little higher than usual.

The door creaked open, and in stepped one of the Russo brothers, script rolled in hand, calm but serious. "Hey, just wanted to give you and Lizzie a quick rundown before we get on set."

I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral even though my heart was already speeding up.

"We want it slow. Intimate. Like it's not just passion, but release- relief. You've both been holding it in for so long. There should be touches that feel almost hesitant. But once it starts... we want the audience to feel how much your characters want this."

I nodded again, biting the inside of my cheek. "Got it. Oh, and," he added, "when you're moaning, don't hold back. Say her name. Multiple times, people will love it.

 He chuckled like it was nothing, but the casual direction sent a spark of heat up my spine. "Be raw with it."

Yeah. Sure. Totally fine. Definitely not freaking out.

I adjusted the collar of my shirt, which was soft and worn-looking. The costume designer had nailed the "undercover but still slightly dramatic" look. My character's hair was messily tied back, and there was no makeup save for the sort they used to make me appear like I had slept four hours in three days. Real method stuff.

Lizzie was already on set, barefoot, sitting on a pretend bed, and drinking from a paper coffee cup. She gave me that comfortable, lopsided smile. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I said, taking a long breath.

Joe came in next to us and lowered his voice.

"This is morning-after energy," he explained. "You have been on the run for months. You've got used to the silence and your relationship. You are not superheroes here. You're simply two people trying to hang onto something positive. Something honest. We want to feel that."

I nodded, and Lizzie's expression had already changed. Wanda was there. Tired, gentle, and a little guarded.

And when they called action

Everything slid into place.

"I think I saw someone watching us near the market," I remarked, carefully folding a dish towel and placing it on the counter. "He wasn't following me, but... I'm not sure if I'm paranoid or right."

Wanda, Lizzie, glanced up from the table where she was cutting fruit. Her fingers hesitated slightly. "You're probably correct. You usually are."

I turned to face her. "Doesn't make me feel better."

She let out a giggle and walked to me.

"It's been peaceful here," she remarked. "I forgot what peace even felt like."

Lizzie stood close to me, dressed as Wanda, with delicate makeup and a dark red cloak thrown around her shoulders, her hand gently stretching across the table to mine. "We're safe here," she added, with Wanda's soft, quiet, but authoritative tone. It caused chills down my arms.

I nodded and gazed into her eyes, waiting for my cue. But I wasn't acting anymore. When she gripped my hand.

"We don't have to go back," Lizzie said. "We might disappear here. Just you and I."

I swallowed hard. "You really think they'd let us go?" I demanded, leaning forward as the script instructed me. The intensity of Lizzie's gaze on me felt too genuine.

Her fingers brushed under my chin as she tilted my face up. "Let them try," she whispered, right before her lips pressed to mine.

Her hand slid up my jaw, into my hair. I leaned into her touch, kissed her back like I meant it, because maybe... I did.

We locked eyes.

She leaned down and cupped my jaw with delicate fingertips. Her thumb stroked my face, then lowered to my lips.

"You're safe now," she murmured to Wanda, her voice filled with emotion. "With me."

My breath caught. "I always was," I said, just barely audible.

Then, she kissed me again.

As we explored our mouths with our tongues, she slowly moved us to our bed...

Slow at the beginning. Lingering. Her lips slid against mine as if she understood every curve, every pause that made me melt. Her hands moved beneath the blanket, tracing my waist and bringing me closer. Her leg was looped around mine, possessively.

Then, with one hand, she performed her caressing movement, and I held up my hands as if they were magically tied down, because that is the effect they will add later.

"Wanda"

"OH, Wanda"

But as her lips moved to my neck, Lizzie kissed me differently. Less scripted. Hungrier. Her tongue touched my skin, and her fingers curled behind my neck.

And that is when it slid.

"Lizzie..."

I said it like a breath, a prayer.

The camera did not catch it. Nobody said anything. But I felt it. I knew it.

When the director screamed, "Cut!"I jumped upright and tucked the sheet over my chest.

"I'll, um, I'll be in my trailer," I murmured, blushing.

I didn't glance back at Lizzie. Couldn't. My heart was pounding, and my thoughts were spinning out of control. I grumbled since that was not Wanda.

That was Lizzie.

And I meant it.

I'm fucked.

I had been ghosting everyone for a weeks.

Text messages remained unopened. Conversations in groups were muted. Missed calls from Robert, Chris, Scarlett, Paul, and Lizzie.

I just couldn't.

When I moaned her name on set, it seemed like something inside me split wide open. I hadn't only crossed a professional line; I had revealed something far too true. Then I ran like a coward. Classic. And now? I couldn't even look at her, much less pretend we were "just friends" or "just coworkers."

So I remained away. From the cast. From rehearsals. From everything.

I didn't want to admit it, but the only thing that hurt was Lizzie's lack of communication.

Maybe she overheard it. Perhaps she didn't. Regardless, she remained mute.

That made things worse.

I was cuddled up on my couch, hoodie pulled over my head, watching horrible reality TV and eating cold leftovers when the doorbell rang.

I ignored it.

Then came the second ring.

Then they knocked.

Then there was some banging.

And, through the awful door—

"Y/N Salvatore, if you don't open this door in the next ten seconds, I'm calling Feige and telling him you died in a tragic avocado toast incident."

...Goddammit.

I grumbled and trudged to the door, opening it just slightly. Robert Downey, Jr. was standing there. Designer sunglasses, a wide-brimmed hat, coffee in one hand, and what appeared to be a Gucci purse in the other.

"Oh, thank God," he said, shoving past me. "I thought you had vanished. This area smells of sadness and fried chips. Not cute."

"Nice to see you, too," I mumbled, closing the door behind him.

He turned and pointed at me. "Sit. We're talking."

"I'm fine."

"Nope," he said. "You're in love, ignoring your lover, and attempting to self-sabotage before the greatest Marvel premiere of your life. Also, you haven't showered today."

I narrowed my eyes. "Did Lizzie send you?"

He snorted. "Lizzie has no idea I am here. She's too busy pretending she isn't devastated. Which, by the way, she is doing poorly at. The girl has been poking at foods as if they insulted her mother."

I glanced aside, my arms crossed across my chest.

Robert groaned and sat near me on the couch. "Look. I got it. It's messy. You are afraid. You believe you have ruined something."

"I did ruin it."

He shakes his head. "No. You felt something. She did, too. Salvatore, don't play stupid; you both acted as if you forgot there were cameras. Do you believe that type of chemistry is normal? We were all watching playback and wondering if this was still acting."

I didn't respond.

"You're not alone in this," he said quietly. "You are not a monster for having emotions. She definitely did, too. You're both simply being foolish. Which is why I am hosting dinner tonight. One of our last before the press tour madness begins. Everyone is invited. And yes, you will be there."

"I'm not going."

He stood dramatically. "That's wonderful, but I had already planned to drive you there myself. So either you get ready and arrive dressed like a Greek goddess, or I sling you over my shoulder and drag your theatrical vampire ass out in a robe."

I looked at him, blinking. "...Fine. But I'm wearing black."

"Duh. It is your color."

LATER — Y/N's BEDROOM

I stood in front of the mirror, curling the last strand of my hair. Something elegant but soft. My dress was black, yes, but tasteful. Backless. Flowing. Simple, but still dramatic. I applied a final coat of deep red lipstick.

My heart was racing.

Not because of the dinner. But because I knew I'd see her again. Lizzie.

And I had no idea how to act normally anymore.

But I could fake it. That was the job, right?

I grabbed my heels. Took a breath.

Robert was waiting downstairs, blasting ABBA on his phone like a true icon.

Time to face the chaos.

And maybe... her.

Robert's house is like a Vogue spread transformed into a mansion. There are lights everywhere, jazz playing from concealed speakers, candles flickering around the pool, and so many people.

I squinted at the sight, my heels tapping on the marble as I followed Robert through the front door. "Wait," I said, lifting an eyebrow. "Didn't you say this was a dinner?"

He smirked as he stared at me over his spectacles. "I mentioned there will be food. You imagined it meant 'calm' and 'intimate.' That is on you."

"Robert, there are at least forty people here."

"Not a single boring one. "You are welcome."

Before I could strangle him with my hold, he vanished into the crowd, greeting everyone like a Hollywood Zeus descending from Olympus.

I groaned and looked around the room. There is no indication of Lizzie.

Okay. Take a deep breath. Keep it cool.

I approached the bar, anxious for something cold and boozy. That's where I noticed Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan leaning heavily against it, as if they were in some whiskey ad.

"Ayyy, look who rose from the dead!" Anthony grinned and pulled me in for a hug.

"You do look like a vampire queen tonight," Sebastian said, lifting his glass. "I really adore it. Brooding looks fantastic on you."

"Thanks," I mumbled, smiling. "That's what two weeks of existential dread and bad reality TV will do to you."

We clinked glasses. Whiskey scorched my throat.

They spoke, asked how I was, and teased me like elder brothers, which made me chuckle. Until Anthony's smile became hazardous.

"Alright. Dare time."

Sebastian lifted an eyebrow. "This isn't high school."

"Oh, shut up, you love this." Anthony turned to face me. "Y/N, I challenge you to dance with Bucky Barnes over here. But, really, dance. None of that nice swaying. I want hip action. Maintain eye contact. Full commitment."

Sebjust chuckled and reached for my hand. "Are you up for it?"

I arched my brow. "You wish."

But I had already placed my drink down.

The music changed, darker, slower, hotter. Low boom sends through the floor.

And yes, I agreed.

I strolled with Sebastian across Robert's marble living room, as if we were in a noir club scene. Smooth, sultry, and a touch playful. His hand rested softly on my waist as I turned, our feet perfectly coordinated. Everyone around us cheered.

It was enjoyable. Light. Silly.

And suddenly, I felt it.

That sting.

It felt like flames on the back of my neck.

I turned.

Lizzie.

Standing near the bar.

Watching me.

Her jaw tensed, and the wine glass froze in midair. Her eyes focused on me.

Shit.

I quickly stepped back from Sebastian, laughed it off, and grabbed my drink, only to be stopped.

A hand was tightly wrapped around my wrist.

Fingers are warm.

"Lizzie—"

"Outside. Now."

Her voice sounded low. Controlled. Too calm.

She almost dragged me past the crowd and into a quiet corridor beside the kitchen, far enough away from the music to hear only the pounding of my own heartbeat.

And then, boom, I was pinned.

Back against a wall.

Her hands are on either side of my waist.

I'm breathing quickly.

Eyes are black.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" she growled, moving closer.

I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I wasn't sure what to say.

She drew a trembling breath and moved back half an inch, leaving just enough space to make the tension break like a rubber band. Her voice lowered, harsh with pain. "You avoided me for weeks, Y/N."

I swallowed, remorse setting in.

"And now?" She sneered and clenched her fists. "Now you're out there... dancing with Sebastian like it's a fucking date? Really?" Her voice broke just enough to devastate me. "So what am I, nothing to you now?"

"Lizzie, no-"

"No? Then look me in the eyes and say that."

I tried. God, I tried.

But the moment our eyes met, my heart skipped, my throat tightened, and everything inside me screamed her name.

She laughed sadly, tears threatening but not dropping. "You can't, can you?"

I didn't respond.

"I was there for you," she muttered. "Through all of it. When you shut down, left the stage early, or stopped responding to texts. I waited. I worried. And still, I believed myself you only needed time."

Her fingers stroked my arm, sensitive yet trembling. "But then I walk in tonight and you're smiling like nothing happened. With him. And I can't." She broke off, coming closer.

"I can't look at you with him," she whispered. "Every time I see you with someone else, my body just"  Her breath caught. "Every part of me wants to take you away, Y/N. Take you out of this room, put you against a wall, and remind you who you belong to."

She was shaking, but not because she was weak.

Pain. Passion. Love entangled in an unbreakable knot.

"Don't you get it?" She breathed and looked at me as if I were the only thing keeping her alive. "I love you."

That shattered me.

"Liz-" I gasped out.

"I want you completely," she snapped. "I do not want a half-hearted version of you. I do not desire stray looks or hushed practice. I want the version who would whisper lines into my shoulder at midnight. The one who softened as I kissed her neck after a take. I want you.  All of you."

And then, suddenly, her lips were inches from me.

Breathless. Burning.

"I can't pretend this is just acting anymore. And I won't."

I gazed at her, every muscle in my body begging to let go. To give in. To tell her I felt the same way, that she wasn't alone in this insane situation. The fear of losing her kept me up every night.

"Say something," she begged.

My chest lifted and sank as if I'd just finished a marathon. Her words were still reaching in my mind: I want you totally. My lips split, but it seemed like my heart had risen up my throat,

I didn't have to think anymore. I didn't need to second-guess or pretend that she hadn't already blasted through every wall I'd ever created.

"Then kiss me."

Her breath caught.

That is all it took.

Lizzie jumped forward in an instant, her lips crashing against mine, angry and hungry. One hand was knotted in my hair, and the other gripped my waist as if she wanted to ground herself before losing control. I slid toward her, holding to her jacket as my lips parted without hesitation.

There was nothing planned or practiced about it. It was not a scene; it was real. Every brush of her tongue, every moan against my mouth, was messy, urgent, and true. We'd waited too long for this. And suddenly everything was spilling out.

She pushed me back against the wall, her body pressed against mine, her thigh slipping between mine with a possessive ease that made my breath catch and my knees weak.

Her mouth left mine, only to trail down my jaw and down my throat, biting softly before returning to my lips as if she couldn't stay away. Her hands were everywhere—sliding beneath my dress, holding my hips, and squeezing as if she didn't care who saw.

And perhaps she didn't. Perhaps I didn't either.

But then 

We heard laughter on the opposite side of the hallway. Someone is calling for Chris.

Lizzie remained still.

We were both panting, foreheads mashed together, and hearts pounding like thunder.

"I swear to God," she said, eyes still closed, "if someone ruins this again, I'll kill them."

I laughed out loud, my head tilted back against the wall. "We can't do this here."

She sighed and leaned in for one more kiss, slow this time, deep and devastating. Her hand caressed my cheek as she pulled away, her gaze softening.

"Come with me," she said, her voice lower now.  "Let me take you home."

I didn't even hesitate.

When we went out of that hallway, it was like walking into a spotlight. The party's talk stopped for a short moment before resuming.

"Ohhh, look who finally came up for air!" Anthony shouted, raising his cup with a smile.

Sebastian simply let out a long whistle. "It took you long enough. I thought you two were going to fuck each other there."

Chris smiled and nudged Scarlett. "Called it. I said by the end of the night, someone would be pinned to a wall."

Scarlett just rolled her eyes and raised her glass. "Finally."

I felt blood rush to my cheeks. Lizzie and I were still holding hands, fingers interlaced, lips swollen, lipstick slightly blurred, and out of breath. The proof was written all over us.

I squeezed her hand, holding back a laugh as Tom raised his brow and murmured to Zendaya, "Do we cheer? Clap? Light fireworks?"

"Fireworks," Zendaya responded without skipping a beat. "Obviously."

Lizzie simply rolled her eyes at each of them. "Children," she mumbled under her breath, turning to me with a little smile. "Let's get out of here before they start placing bets."

And with that, we slipped out.

Initially, the car was quiet. The city lights reflected a lovely golden tint through the windows, flickering over Lizzie's face as she drove. One hand on the steering wheel and the other on my thigh.

Her thumb brushed gentle circles at first, innocent and even oblivious. But things did not stay that way.

Her hand began to move higher, slowly and carefully.

"You know," she continued casually, not looking at me, "you have the worst poker face."

I swallowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She smirked. "Every time I touched you back there, your breathing changed."

I scoffed, my cheeks flushed. "It did not."

Her fingers climbed a bit higher. "Did so."

"Maybe you were just breathing harder, Olsen."

"Oh, baby." Her voice dipped, seductive and sexy. "I understand how you breathe when I touch you. I've been studying it for several months."

I turned to the window, trying not to burn, but she leaned in at a red light, whispering in my ear, "And when you moaned my name before... even if no one heard it, I did."

Her fingertips were no longer simply teasing my thigh. They explored slowly, confidently, and possessively. Moving up with purpose.

I shifted slightly in my seat, pretending I wasn't losing my mind, but my breath betrayed mesharp and sharp.

Lizzie's smirk deepened, her gaze fixated on the road as if she wasn't driving me insane. "I love how quiet you get when I touch you like this," she said.

Her fingertips dipped just beneath the bottom edge of my dress, brushing across the naked skin on my inner thigh. Higher. Slower. She wasn't hurrying anything. It was as if she wanted to memorize every inch, torturing me with excitement.

"You didn't want to talk to me for weeks," she said quietly and quietly, "but now look at you. "Falling apart in the front seat."

"Lizzie..." I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for just a moment.

She hummed. "You gonna beg me to stop?"

I shook my head, jaw gritted. "No."

She gave a quiet, satisfied laugh. Her hand reached just high enough to make me gasp, and then she drew away entirely.

"What the hell?" I looked at her, breathless, but she had already pulled into her driveway.

She slowly parked the car and then turned to face me. Her lips twisted into that arrogant, drop-dead gorgeous smile, which she knew had wrecked me.

"Get inside," she urged, her tone suddenly stern and forceful. "We're not done."

My heart pounded. "You, are you serious?"

She released her seatbelt with a gentle click. "You have been taunting me for months. Dancing with Sebastian, avoiding me, moaning my name when no one should hear..." Her glance swept over me. "You don't get to walk away again."

I swallowed hard, my knees wobbly, as I hopped out of the car and followed her to the door.

Lizzie turned around, jealousy in her eyes, as the door closed behind us. Before I could blink, she was raising me with ease, as if she had been waiting all night, and my legs reflexively wrapped around her waist.

"Bedroom," I whispered against her neck, my voice shaking.

She grinned. "Obviously."

Her lips claimed mine again, deep and eager, as she went down the hall as if nothing else mattered but putting me on her bed. I felt the heat coming from her skin, and mine felt similar—burning and throbbing.

As soon as we reached the door, she lowered me into the soft sheets—but didn't pull away. Her body hung over mine, her hands slipping under the sleeves of my dress, and her tongue trailing down the side of my neck. She picked a location just below my jaw and bit—not hard, but enough to make me gasp and leave a growing bruise that she had carefully planned.

"That's mine," she said, her voice low and full of yearning.

Her hands grew impatient, pushing the dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but lace. She sat back to view me, her chest rising and falling, mouth parted, and eyes wide.

"You're so beautiful, baby." She leaned back down and kissed my collarbone. "You've got no idea what you do to me."

I arched into her, moaning quietly as her hand moved between my thighs, her fingertips ghosting across the damp cloth. "Lizzie..."

"I know," she whispered. "I know, sweetheart."

She stripped me naked with slow, deliberate strokes, caressing every inch of exposed skin as if I were precious. Her lips traced a route down my ribs, stomach, and hips, leaving hickeys as evidence of possession.

She took her time, putting her fingers inside me just as her lips touched my breast, nibbling and teasing till I trembled beneath her. Her name escaped my lips in a breathy gasp again and over, and she enjoyed it. Her other hand held my wrist down softly but strongly.

"I want everyone to see what's mine," she muttered against my skin before leaving another mark right over my heart. "I want them to know."

I was lost in her, every touch, every breath, every piece of her weight on mine. She did not simply touch me; she held me. It seemed as if she was connecting me to the world. Even with all that dominance, there was a lot of love behind it.

When I came, it was with her name on my tongue, her hands grounding me, her lips murmuring praise I couldn't even process.

She didn't stop there.

Afterwards, she kissed me softly, her hands stroking my face, her voice gentler than ever. "You okay, baby?"

I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. "You ruined me."

She grinned. "I plan to do it again. And again."

Lizzie was still catching her breath as I rolled on top of her, straddling her hips with a playful grin.

She looked up at me, confused. "Oh, you're not done?"

I bent down and kissed her softly, tongue brushing against hers, one hand creeping into her hair and the other trailing down her warm chest.

"Not even close," I said softly against her lips. "My turn."

Her lips curled into a wicked smile. "Then take it, baby."

I kissed down her throat.

  Her skin tasted like salt and passion, like all the fire she'd poured into me, and now I was ready to return it all. My tongue reached the top of her breast, and I sucked softly before biting down just enough to make her hiss.

"Fuck, Y/N," she muttered, leaning into me. "You're getting cocky."

"You made me this way," I said, brushing my lips over her skin, lowering myself until I was kneeling between her legs.

She stared down at me, hair tangled around her pillow, lips puffy, cheeks flushed, and her eyes?

God, she looked destroyed, yet she was still so powerful. Even in surrender, she remained untouchable.

I pulled her thighs over my shoulders, kissed the inside of her knee, then the dip of her leg, and grinned as she snapped beneath me.

"You gonna be good for me?" I asked quietly.

"I'll be whatever you want," she said, her voice broken.

Lizzie's hand quickly reached the back of my head, fingers threading into my hair, as I kissed a stripe across her pussy

"Shit, Y/N. Yes. Exactly like that, baby."

I continued on, slowly at first, teasing her with the tip of my tongue, and watched her tear. Her hips rotated in quest of more, and I gave it to her flicking, sucking, and devouring her as if I were hungry. "Baby, you're really good at this," she sighed. "Fuck, you were made for me."

Her thighs gripped around my head as I murmured against her, sending vibrations through her core, causing her to cry out. She was panting now, rubbing against my mouth, and I didn't stop, not even when her moans became louder, she tugged my hair, or her back arched.

"You want to make me come, pretty girl?" she growled.

I gazed up at her, lips wet, and nodded. "Beg for it."

Lizzie's eyes brightened up. "Oh, fuck. Are you really going to make me?"

I smirked. "Yeah."

She let out a breathless laugh. "You don't realize how hot you are like this. Please, Baby. Please make me come."

That was all I needed.

I put two fingers into her, curving them perfectly while my tongue worked on her clit and the cry that exploded from her chest was filthy. Her body bucked, her feet pressed into my back, and she let out a low groan that rang throughout the room.

"Y/N. I'm, fuck, I'm coming!"

She cracked, yelling my name and writhing under me, her thighs tightening around my head like a vice. I didn't stop until she was exhausted, jerking, and gasping for air.

When I eventually crept back up her body, she looked beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest heaved, her hair tangled, and her red lips parted in the softest, sweetest grin.

She threw her arms around me and drew me into her.

I kissed her shoulder, then her neck. "You're mine."

"And you're mine," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Every bit of you."

The first thing I noticed when I awoke was the silence.

The type of sweet, dreamy silence that only comes in the early morning. No cars, no texts, and no buzzing notifications. Just the warm weight of covers on my skin and the faint perfume of Lizzie on my pillow.

She was still sleeping next to me, her face buried in the blankets and one arm casually thrown across where I used to be. Her breathing was regular and quiet. Peaceful.

God, she was stunning like that.

I dropped a short kiss on her temple and slid out of bed as silently as possible, sliding one of her big t-shirts over my naked body. It covered my body, the sleeves almost reaching my elbows and touching the tops of my thighs like a dress. I grinned to myself, wondering why it felt so intimate to wear her clothing. I felt surrounded by her warmth even when she was sleeping.

Padding barefoot into the kitchen, I decided to be a nice girlfriend and prepare her breakfast. A small "thank you for last night" gesture. (And possibly: "I'm head over heels for you and can't stop thinking about how you kissed me like I was your whole world." )

When I added the eggs, the pan hissed, and I began looking around for coffee. It was busy but comfortable, me in her shirt, music playing gently from my phone on the counter, and dawn light streaming through the curtains.

Then I felt it: the familiar warmth.

Lizzie's chin settled on my shoulder as her arms wrapped around my waist from behind. She seemed warm and tired, her voice heavy and husky as she spoke.

"Mmm... Are you trying to kill me?"

I giggled and leaned back into her hug. "What?"

"You. In my shirt. Making breakfast. Looking like that." She nuzzled her cheek on my neck. "It is criminal. I should arrest you."

I grinned, putting down the spatula, and covered her hands with mine. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it."

"I do."

She hummed and gave me a delicate kiss just below my ear. "It smells nice. Are you attempting to tempt me into round two?"

I smirked as I glanced over my shoulder. "Would it work?"

Lizzie's eyes glittered, and sleep clung to her eyelids. "Baby, you are the reward."

We remained there for a bit, her arms wrapped around mine, our bodies swaying gently in time with the music. There is no haste, no world outside. It's just us.

"You know," she murmured softly, "this...this is everything."

I turned into her arms and wrapped mine around her neck. "What is?"

"This. Waking up with you. Seeing you in my kitchen. Wearing my clothes"

"Come back to bed," she whispered.

"But I'm cooking."

She nipped at my bottom lip. "Breakfast can wait."

And just like that, the eggs were forgotten...

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 2)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: class A banter

words: 3.5k

Summary: You're getting better at your job rather quickly. You already had some regulars, a group of naval aviators in particular. Sadly, Hangman was one of them. Today, you meet a new member of the group...

a/n: Thank you all so much for the likes and comments. I hope you like this one just as much.

Link to my masterlist

Your shifts at the bar got better by the day. Just like you had promised Penny, you learned quickly and improved every day. You already made out some of the regulars who were mostly Navy, young and old, retired, active and newbies, including some naval aviators that were stationed at North Island and the Hard Deck was their afterwork hangout.

You knew most of the naval aviators by their call signs, some even by their regular names. They liked you and you liked them. You seemed to find your footing in San Diego and it felt like it could become your home for at least a little while with every day that passed.

It was another busy evening at the Hard Deck. You still didn’t have the speed that Penny had in serving drinks but she also had three years more experience under her belt, at least here at the Hard Deck.

“Here you go”, you put two tall glasses of beer in front of two older gentlemen that definitely were part of the regulars; retired Navy. “Who’s driving tonight?”, you asked them. “Bert over here”, Carl said and pointed at his friend next to him. His actual name was Ernie but his call-sign was Bert as in Bert and Ernie. Carl’s call-sign was Ping-Pong.

You always thought that everything relating to military had to be super serious and tough, but as it turned out with every naval aviator you met, the names got funnier.

“Alright Bert, you know what that means. One more beer and I’m cutting you off”, you explained like they didn’t know the drill. “Women. Always nagging”, Bert shook his head but with a playful smile on his lips. You knew he was joking and you liked the exchange. “I just don’t wanna lose my favorite customer”, you told him and patted his hand that rested on the bar top. “You make an old man very happy”, he said and put his hand over yours. “Bert! You’re making me blush”, you told him and put your other hand over his. Ping-Pong put his hand on top of yours and now there was a tower of hands. “I felt excluded”, he simply said when you looked over at him and made the three of you laugh.

“Bradshaw!”, you heard Phoenix, a female naval aviator you had come to know through your work at the bar, exclaim over the crowd from the pool table as you turned away from the men to serve other customers. You looked at her first and then followed her eyes to a young man, probably the same age as she was, wearing a Hawaiian shirt as he walked past the bar counter, weaving his way through the crowd towards Phoenix. You just saw his profile and noticed that he was sporting a moustache.

Your attention got pulled away from him by other customers wanting to be served. You looked over at the group by the pool table from time to time. The Hawaiian shirt was an interesting contrast to the khaki uniforms he was surrounded by. You noticed how Hangman and the new guy seemingly went at it with intense stares and tense body language. Maybe they had a past or Hangman was just getting to him. That man could be unnerving.

You delivered a few drink orders to tables and got a new box of beer bottles out of storage when the new guy suddenly appeared at the counter. “Just a moment”, you told him as you put away the last few beers into the cooler. “Sure, take your time”, he said with no hint of sarcasm or impatience. You liked him already.

“Alright, what can I get ya?”, you asked and pushed a strand of your hair that had come loose from the big hair clip behind your ear. It was the first time you got a good look at his face and it was a pretty one. He really pulled off the mustache which wasn’t an easy task. The sunglasses he had on when coming in were now dangling at the neckline of his white shirt.

“A beer, please”, he placed his order. You grabbed a bottle out of the cooler and opened it. “Here you go. That makes 8,50”, you placed the beer in front of him with a smile. He returned the smile as he put a 10-dollar bill on the counter. “Thanks. The rest is for you, sweetheart”, he said and winked at you. He had a charming coolness about him. “Thank you”, you said as you took the money. He didn’t leave immediately but instead was looking at you with the same smile from before. “I’m Bradley”, he mentioned and extended his hand. “Y/N”, you told him and grabbed his hand for a surprisingly nice handshake.

“How do you know Phoenix?”, you asked him as you put the money in the register. “We met at the naval academy a few years ago”, he told you and leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his beer. “So, you’re a pilot, too?”, you inquired but weren’t really surprised as he nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am”, he said. “What’s your call-sign?”, you continued with your questionnaire. “Rooster”, he answered and looked at you like he was a bit surprised that you knew what a call-sign was. “I just remember the call-signs better than the actual names. I don’t know why”, you explained with a chuckle and shrugged your shoulders.

“Rooster!”, Phoenix called him over to play a game of pool. “Thanks for the beer, sweetheart”, he said. “Thanks for the tip”, you said in return before Rooster pushed himself off the counter and walked over to his friends.

When you looked over, about two seats down from where you stood, you found Hangman looking at you.

"Why does he get to call you sweetheart without you getting all snappy on him?", Hangman asked after he witnessed Rooster calling you by, what he thought was, your hated nickname and instead of getting mad at him you just shot Rooster a wide smile.

"Because despite how our first meeting went, he patiently waited for his drink, said thank you AND tipped me", you explained to the aviator while you walked towards him.

After your first encounter, you had a few more run-ins of the same kind. Always douchey on his part and you always countered in a sarcastic, witty way, or so you’d liked to think.

"I tipped you on the next round", he countered. "I tipped myself on your next round", you told him, hinting at the douchebag tax you charged him.

"But with my money. And I paid your fantasy tax", he doubled down. "Tax isn't something you can avoid, fantasy or not. That's not how the IRS works", you lectured him in a playful seriousness.

"Good god, you're killing me, sweetheart", he rolled his eyes at you. "If only, Bagman, if only. And don't call me sweetheart", you told him off, intentionally using Phoenix' version of his call sign that you knew he hated.

“Are you just here to complain or do you want something from me?”, you asked him and wiped down the counter in front of him. “A beer, doll”, he placed his order. “A definite no to doll”, you immediately told him and wagged your finger in front of his face. “I’m just working my way through the nicknames until you like something or you give in. I don’t mind either way”, he shrugged his shoulder. “Rooster called me ma’am. I can work with that”, you told him and placed a fresh bottle of beer before him.

“I’m not calling you ma’am. I’d rather follow my original plan”, he countered. “You know what might be a crazy idea? Calling someone by their birthname”, you told him and rested your hands on the counter. He stared you down with his piercing green eyes and you felt a little twist in your stomach.

“Nah, that’s not fun”, he simply stated and shot you a wide smile, showing off his pearly whites before he got up and walked back to the others.

You shook your head over his cockiness which could get on your nerves sometimes and it really did, but the banter between the two of you was actually quite fun. The way he presented himself would have you think he was not very popular but actually the opposite was the case.

The way his teammates talked to and about him let you know that he had their respect but he also demanded it. He had no problem voicing that he was always top of the class, one of the best if not the best. He exuded BDE when entering a room, talked up a girl or got up against Rooster for what seemed like pretty much anything.

You didn’t know another way to describe it but he was a pretty boy with a HUGE ego and needed to be put in his place from time to time and you’d happily be the one to do it.

It was later in the evening when the jukebox suddenly stopped playing. You didn’t notice at first because of the wall of voices in the well-filled bar, only when you heard someone tickling the ivories of the piano that was standing right next to the bar circle.

You were making your rounds, collecting empty glasses and beer bottles as you heard someone starting to sing. When you looked up, you found Rooster sitting at the piano and his friends Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy and Bob were standing around him, joining in on his singing. You had just stopped at a table close to them, filling up the last space on your already full trey and smiled at the joy they had singing together. When Phoenix spotted you as you walked past them, she pulled you into the round. You only had about time to quickly put your tray down on the bar top, careful not to drop anything.

"Do you know 'Great balls of fire'?", she screamed in your ear over the music and loud singing around you. "Yes, but...", you tried to answer but she just shoved you next to the piano into Roosters vision. The current song had just ended and Phoenix tapped Roosters shoulder. "Play ‘Great balls of fire’, she’ll sing with you", she shouted at his ear over the loud noise in the bar. "No, guys, I have to work and I don't really wanna sing", you told them and wanted to get back to your trey of empty glasses.

Instead of listening to you, Rooster just started playing and Phoenix and Fanboy blocked your way out of the little circle that had formed around Rooster and you.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain”, Rooster started singing the first line and then looked at you. You just looked at him with big eyes. People from the crowd started looking at you, too, as they expected you to sing as you stood right next to the piano. Rooster just played the part again and again.

"I play it until you sing", he shouted over the music. You looked at him with a distraught look on your face. People started whistling as they got annoyed at the same tune being played over and over again. Phoenix held her bottle of beer in front of you and nudged you with her shoulder. You got a feeling that Rooster could be relentless when he wanted something. You groaned, grabbed the bottle of beer and took a big chug before you handed it back to Phoenix.

"Start again", you told Rooster with your finger moving in a circle in mid-air and cleared your throat. He sang the first line again and this time you picked up the second part of the verse right away. “Too much love drives a man insane.”

You didn't sound bad, quite the opposite, Rooster thought to himself. He sang the next line and you sang back the next. "Louder, Y/N", he yelled and when the chorus came around you sang at the top of your lungs like everybody else around you.

“I’ve changed my mind, this love is fine. Goodness gracious, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!”, you shouted along with everybody else.

“Kiss me baby”, Rooster sang and tapped his cheek with his finger for a moment before continuing to play. You guessed you were swept up in the moment because you bent down and kissed his cheek.

“Ooh, feels good”, he sang and shook his shoulders like your kiss actually made him shiver. Instead of singing along, you let out a laugh that was swallowed by the music and dozens of voices singing along.

When Rooster started playing the instrumental part in the middle of the song, he was really going off. You had no idea he was that good. He looked so cool and totally in his element. And on top of that, he was a fighter pilot. No wonder the girls were throwing themselves at him and he had easy game wherever he went.

You had to admit you were totally amazed and hypnotized by him at that moment. And when the line “Kiss me baby” came again, he didn’t have to ask you to give him a kiss on his cheek again.

You bent down to place your lips on his clean-shaven cheek but at the last second, he spun his head around and pressed his lips directly onto yours. “Ooh, feels good”, he sang even louder and threw you a mischievous smile while he kept playing.

Your eyes got big and you felt your cheeks burning up. Rooster was a real player and not just of the piano.

When you finally broke out of your paralyzed state, you playfully slapped his shoulder and joined back in at “Got to tell this world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine”.

You had to admit you had fun singing with them. When everybody was really going off to another round of the chorus, you saw your chance and sneaked off, grabbing the trey of glasses, and making a beeline around the bar, getting behind the counter.

"Sorry, Penny, they made me sing", you apologized when you came face to face with your boss, starting to put the glasses into the baskets for the dishwasher. "Who knew you had a pipe on you, Y/N?", Penny said and lightly bumped her hips into yours, not looking the least bit mad that you had just taken a singing break in the middle of your shift on a really busy night.

When the song finally ended, everybody cheered and clapped for Rooster. He jumped up on the piano bench and pointed towards the bar. "And give it up for Y/N", he yelled and you saw dozens of heads turning towards you which made your cheeks blush again immediately. Everybody cheered just as loud for you and it sent an excited tingle up your spine. You blew your maestro a kiss from behind the counter and got back to taking drink orders.

Fanboy, Payback and Phoenix sat at the bar, Bob and Rooster stood behind them, completing the circle. Jake and Coyote also sat at the bar, a bit to the side.

When you walked up, you heard the group talking about fake boobs. You placed a new round of beers in front of them and managed to make out who they were talking about. They were all not so subtly looking at a tall blonde at the back of the bar talking to a guy, her boobs suspiciously big and high up for her overall size.

“I don’t know man, I can’t say. Not without touching them”, Fanboy said and cocked his head to the side as he studied the view. “Yeah, as you would ever get the chance to do that”, Phoenix commented.

You wiped the counter and smiled to yourself. “They’re totally fake”, you commented and all their heads turned to you. “Really? How do you know?”, Payback asked. “When she laughs, and she laughs with her whole body, they don’t give at all”, you explained and all their heads turned back to the woman. And as luck would have it, just at that moment she let out a big laugh, holding on to that guy’s arm. She’s totally going home with him tonight, you thought to yourself.

Even after your little time behind the bar, you got really good at spotting stuff like that. And Penny was really good at sniffing out when a fight’s about to break out and defusing the situation.

“Oh yeah, you’re right”, Fanboy said as he made the discovery. “Why do you know so much about fake boobs?”, Rooster asked intrigued. “I worked as a receptionist for a beauty doc in New York”, you told them. “Did you see a lot of boobs?”, Fanboy kept asking. “Probably more than you”, you commented, you couldn’t help yourself. The group laughed and Rooster gave you a high five.

“But it’s ridiculous how expensive they are. Well, if you want it to be good, at least”, you told them further.

The main rush of the night was over and you had a little time to talk, not needing to hand out new drinks every two seconds.

“What was the most expensive pair you’ve ever seen?”, Phoenix asked you. You thought for a second. “I think the craziest were 8k a piece”, you told them and their eyes got big. “For boobs?”, Rooster said a little loud and some heads turned his way. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Hangman looking over.

“It’s crazy how much people are willing to pay for stuff like that. I could never afford anything close to that. But I have to admit they looked spectacular”, you said and formed perfectly round boobs in front of your chest.

“To be fair, you have no need in that department”, Payback toasted you with his beer. Anybody else might have made it sound gross or sleezy, but he had a real charm about him and you knew how he meant it.

“Thank you, but just because they’re natural doesn’t mean they were cheap. The right one’s mostly McDonalds and the left one’s pizza. That’s because it is also the bigger one”, you told them with a smirk. As prove, you bent over and pulled your shirt down a bit, revealing the hem of your breasts. “See?”, you said and had them look directly down your cleavage.

Partially you meant it as a joke, but also you were sure that even they all liked to flirt and joke around, none of them actually considered you as sexy or a potentially datable person. That was just never the case for you. Why should it be different with them?

“Okay, shows over”, you pulled your shirt back up and snapped your fingers in front of their faces. “Pay up, it’s late”, you told them and made them close their tabs for the night. They waved a goodbye at you before they left the bar as a group.

“Pay up”, you said to Hangman as you made your rounds of closing the tabs of the remaining customers. Coyote must have left already as he was sitting there alone.

“So, you moved here from New York?”, Hangman asked as he handed you his credit card, having no trouble admitting that he had eavesdropped on your conversation. “No, from New Jersey”, you answered, not planning on going into more detail as you swiped his card through the machine. “And there were no more jobs left in New Jersey so you decided to torment the good people of San Diego?”, he asked and a mocking smile appeared on his face.

“You know, it has always been my dream to move across the country to become a bartender, getting to serve a green-eyed jerk for a living”, you told Hangman and handed his card back to him.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Here I am to make your dreams come true”, he said with a wink and a sleezy smile.

You waited for a moment then leaned over the bar counter to look at the floor right in front of it. “Nope, you didn’t drop dead. But a girl can dream”, you shot at him with a fake smile.

“You can dream as much as you want about me”, he said with a cocky smile plastered across his face.

“Why are you so easy on the eyes but so hard on the ears?”, you asked him with an eyeroll. “So, you think I’m pretty?”, he asked in return and leaned his underarms on the bar top. “No, you think you’re pretty. And that’s the problem. Have you ever considered therapy? Or a good hit to the back of your head?”, you suggested and polished some glasses.

“Sometimes I get my head banged against the headboard, I don’t always have to be on top”, he told you. You exaggerated a dry-heave motion and sound and Hangman let out a big laugh.

“See ya, Y/N”, he said as he pushed himself off the bar and walked towards the exit. “I hope not”, you called after him.

You turned around to put away the freshly polished glasses and tried your hardest not to picture Jake in bed, naked and sweaty. But you failed. Failed miserably.

next: Part 3

[dearsnow]

MANIC MOVES & DROWSY DREAMS (3)

- after discovering something that forces all of your relationship’s problems to the surface, you seek solace in your only potential friend in san diego. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader, hurt with future comfort, part of the series “out of touch” ⚠️ ADULT TOPICS, please be 18+ to read)

OUT OF TOUCH: It’s been twenty years since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw, and, suddenly, you realize he’s finally grown up.

word count: 3,110

a/n - this chapter is lowkey crazy 😭 i hope y’all enjoy because i’ve had a blast writing this. the next chapter might take a bit to write up because i need to plan out the rest of the series, but it hopefully shouldn’t take tooo long!!

The next few days were relatively uneventful as you attempted to get your life in perfect working order. There were a few visits from the navy men, with Fanboy (who you learned was actually named Mickey) being one of your best customers until he witnessed firsthand your boyfriend giving you flowers and a peck on the cheek. He seemed a bit crestfallen after that, but you knew he would perk up eventually. He hadn’t gone through it for nothing, though- you always slipped him an extra cookie sample when he came by.

The best part of your life was not interviewing potential employees or ordering more vintage tables, but instead, it was Derick. He was truly your rock in the midst of a change that otherwise would’ve thrown you into chaos.

He handled your calls, he mopped the floors and shined the counter, and he took you on amazing dates. You can firmly say that you’ve never had a boyfriend as respectful and supportive as him.

Too respectful, however, is an ever-present problem.

You’ve been with him for almost fifteen years and you can reasonably count the times he’s been anything other than a perfect family-friendly gentleman. If you look back on it, it was probably around fifty-two instances.

That seems like a lot, but spread out over fifteen years of young adult antics, it’s almost like he didn’t want to be intimate. He didn’t want to make out, or put a hand just a bit too low on your waist, or do anything passionate or fiery or heated. He just wanted dinner dates, a kiss on the cheek, and a hand to hold. You were fine with that, because in essence, that’s what you needed at the time, right? Stability. Comfort. Romance. Someone to wipe away your insecurities and hold you down at ground level.

A lingering thought, always bouncing around in the back of your mind, whispers that it shouldn’t take hours of tempting and teasing for a guy to want you.

You ignore all of that for right now. Derick is currently sitting across the table from you at the fanciest restaurant in the area.

Fancy places always make you a little nervous. You’re afraid to say the wrong thing or mispronounce a word on the menu, and your dresses get rumpled as you fidget with them. Even your nail polish doesn’t survive as you pick at the edges with your thumb. Derick smiles.

“What are you thinking about ordering?” He asks, setting his own menu down. You cease your picking and clear your throat. He looks especially nice tonight, with his dark hair gelled back and his black suit nice and crisp. It doesn’t quite fit with your dress, though you suppose it doesn’t need to.

“Uh, the caprese salad sounds good.” It’s the cheapest thing on the menu. He always pays, but you know that he gets a bit bothered when the bill racks up too high. You’ve offered to pay for yourself numerous times, but he waves the suggestion away, even when his face makes it known that he doesn’t want to.

“I make more money than you, babe, just let me take care of it.”

You try to smile sweetly, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. If he can tell, he doesn’t show it.

“Sounds good. I’m having the truffle alfredo myself.” He flags down a waiter, and you shrink a bit in your seat.

You can tell that this night is going to be another awkward one. After being with someone for so long, you come to expect certain things. Despite that, you wouldn’t trade this stability for anything. He makes good money, he buys you gifts, and once or twice a year, he’ll even sleep with you. What more could a girl want?

Bradley hasn’t had stability in a long time. He has a home in San Diego, sure, but going out for drinks every once and a while with people who have vastly different schedules isn’t really enough to make him want to stay. In truth, he almost misses being deployed because, at least then, he has a purpose.

When he saw you, he thought he might have an opportunity to right a wrong that has been tearing him up inside. He despises what he was like as a teenager, taking nothing seriously except his dreams to be a naval aviator. He’s learned throughout his life that everything matters, especially the feelings of other people, and even the small, mundane things he couldn’t care less about. The small, mundane things are what keep the world working.

He’s sitting on his couch, enjoying a small, mundane thing (a shitty reality show with acting so bad it makes him laugh) when an unknown number lights up his phone. He perks up, staring at the number as the reality show carries on. It’s probably just a spam number, but on the off chance it’s you, he picks up.

“Hello?” He hates how shaky his voice sounds. Just the idea of you sets his nerves on fire.

“I need a friend,” your soft voice mumbles. “Where can we meet? A place that serves strong alcohol would be preferable.”

Right after your early dinner date with Derick, you walked into your shared apartment, boxes lining every walkway. You really ought to have put everything away more quickly, but after a long day’s work, all you and your boyfriend could seem to do was pull out a few objects and give them a place in your new living quarters.

He immediately went to take a shower, as he usually did after a long day, and placed his locked phone on your nightstand. You collapsed onto your bed and looked up at the ceiling, still dressed, and began to dread opening shop in the morning. You love the cafe, but your lack of employees hits harder every day.

Derick had been handling most of the hiring process, with the good majority of the interviewees being his connections. It was helpful having a business major boyfriend, as his college networking and current accountant networking proved extremely useful for managing an actual business. He was always so enthusiastic about helping you run the place. You seriously don’t know what you would do without him.

His phone lit up next to you with a series of texts. You lazily let your gaze drift over to see what was going on. He wouldn’t mind if you checked who was texting, right? When you picked up his phone, the name that popped up was “employee candidate 4”. You smiled to yourself; Derick was so responsible, you thought. He must have given the candidates his number to see if they needed anything.

You unlocked his phone with your thumbprint, which you so sneakily added to his password bank a few months ago when you first started collaborating on the cafe’s business plan. What you saw made your heart drop down to the floor, splintering into a million little pieces that got stuck in your fresh linoleum.

Bradley hands you another drink, a strong one at that, and you gulp half of it down in one breath. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

You look up at him through your eyelashes, makeup half-rubbed off from tears and friction. The sun began to set when you first entered, and in the dimming light, Bradley could tell that you were rattled. You still are, evidently. He waits for a moment before you clear your throat and offer a few gut-punching words.

“I checked my boyfriend’s phone.” He can tell where this is going. He doesn’t want it to be true, because who in their right mind would cheat on you?

“What was on it?” He prompts gently. You take another breath. You don’t want to dump this all on someone that you barely know, with the only history you have being a failed almost-relationship when you were teenagers, but you don’t have anyone else. When you moved to San Diego, you left everything behind, including your friends and family. You haven’t even talked to your friends in ages, as you’ve been so busy with the cafe and Derick that you couldn’t so much as call them. The idea of having Bradley nurse your broken heart is both gut-wrenching and just a little bit like a dream.

“A lot. I… I don’t want to ruin your night by bothering you. I should go.” You try to stand up from your bar stool, but he catches your wrist in his warm hands.

He shakes his head, eyebrows creased. “Just tell me. I’m here for you; I meant what I said in the cafe.” You nod, fresh tears welling up in your eyes as you sit down.

“I’ll get a few drinks in me first.”

You keep your word, managing to take down a sizable amount of alcohol within a few minutes. It’s not enough to get you passing out or throwing up, but enough to loosen your lips.

“Do you want to know what I saw?” Your face is warm, either from the alcohol or Bradley’s hand on your back. “Twenty-eight photos of his dick. It isn’t even good enough to warrant one photo, Bradley, one! None of them were sent to me, of course. Just the girls he would chat up online and fuck.” The words tumble out of your mouth, every pent-up frustration making its way into the light of the bar. “I looked through his search history, too, and then our finances, because I was suspicious of everything at that point. I found four subscriptions to porn sites in our bills and three more for online dating premium memberships. Who the fuck even needs a premium membership? God. I hate him.”

“Slow down, princess.” He says. His lips are quirked into a small smile as you ramble on and on about every small thing Derick has ever done to piss you off. “He seems like a real piece of work.”

“He is! He so is. I never get to order what I want, he always makes me feel responsible for his mistakes, and not once has he made me finish. I mean, we’ve had sex maybe twice in the last two years because he can’t get it up. Probably because he’s been sticking his dick in STD central.” Those last few items slip through your internal filter, but even in your state, you recognize that you probably shouldn’t be talking about your sex life with a guy you re-met a few days ago. “Sorry. That was personal.”

Bradley lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Nothin’ I can’t handle. I can’t believe you stayed with him that long when he can’t do a single thing for you. If you were my girl, you wouldn’t know a day without pleasure.” It’s his turn to be embarrassed about what he said, but as his cheeks turn red, you don’t even seem to notice.

If you were his girl, he thinks, he’d treat you so well. He’d actually get you your favorite flowers instead of the ones he thinks would look nice in the aesthetic of your apartment, and he’d cook for you, and he’d never make you feel bad for loving him.

“Exactly.” You say. “He just wanted someone to come home to without even thinking about how I would feel. I wanted stability, and he gave me that, but nothing else.” You suddenly sound sober, but the tears are back, and they’re stronger than ever. “I loved him.” You choke out. “I don’t think I could ever get something better, not after so long.”

Bradley feels bad for even considering picking you up after this. You’re distraught, more than he’s ever seen anyone before. It’s clear that this is something you’re going to take a while to heal from. “You can and you will. He’s a dick, and I’m sorry you wasted so much time on him, but you will find some kind of relationship that deserves you. You can have a fresh start, and he’ll just be another asshole that you put in your past.”

You nod, taking in his words as you sip your soda. Bradley cut you off a while ago, which you’re eternally grateful for. If you had one more sip of alcohol, you think you'd either be dancing on a table or crying on the floor. Now, at least you’re crying upright in a stool, with the man across from you handing you tissues once in a while. The lady running the bar seems to know him, and she also seems to know that an endless supply of tissues is necessary for you tonight.

The doors of the bar open, and though you don’t want to peel yourself away from the sight of someone caring about you, you turn around anyway. When you do, your blood runs cold.

Bradley sees you stiffen and follows your line of sight to the person that just walked in. He’s handsome, in a way, with short, dark brown hair and a five-o-clock shadow. He seems like the stuck-up type. Your eyes are blown wide at the sight as the man walks over, a sort of fake concern lacing his expression.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking call me that, Derick. How did you even find me?” Oh. The soon-to-be ex. Bradley sits up on his stool, pulling himself to a position where he can easily stand if the moment calls for it.

Derick pulls out his phone sheepishly. “You left your location on.”

Goddamnit. Fuck.

“Get out. I don’t want to see you right now.” You’re seething, the anger coming off you in waves. You think that if you weren’t angry, you’d be sad, and you can’t handle that right now. The devastation of finding out your boyfriend is a freak and a cheater is something you just opened the box to, and you don’t feel like unpacking it in front of him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He protests. “They didn’t mean anything to me. I love you, and I want to marry you, and I’ll never do it again. I- I have the ring right here, see?” He pulls out a familiar velvet-lined box, and you scoff.

“You should’ve thought about that before you cheated. Multiple times.”

Bradley stands up, placing a soothing hand between your shoulder blades. “Leave, man. She’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want you here.”

Derick bristles, his pasty face tinged red with anger. Bradley almost rolls his eyes at how small he looks. “You don’t need to stick up for her.” He takes a step forward. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were fucking her behind my back. That’s what this is, isn’t it? An excuse for you to leave me because some navy fucker had some nice enough sex with you?” He’s approaching fast. By the time he finishes his sentence, Derick’s fist is wrapped around your wrist tightly.

You let out a soft sound as his bruising fingers close around you, but as soon as he’s there, Bradley shoves him away and loosens his grip on you. “Okay, that’s enough. You’re either going to walk through those doors or you’re getting dragged out. I don’t care which.”

Derick scoffs. “Fine with me. I never liked you anyways.” He gives you a pointed glance, tucking the ring box into his jacket pocket.

“You have tonight to get your stuff out of the apartment that I paid for.” You say, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your thumb. “I never want to see you again.” The second part comes out as a mumble, but he clearly gets the message.

“Fuck you.” He walks out, and the group of navy men by the door give him a dirty look. He’s more than ruined multiple peoples’ nights by this point. It went from one crying girl at a bar to the start of a bar fight in the two minutes he stood in front of you.

Bradley, concerned, gives you a soft look. “Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?”

You shake your head as more tears drip down your jaw. You hate this. You hate Derick, you hate yourself, and you hate the pitiful way Bradley is staring at you. Your California dream has turned into a nightmare. “No, but I’ll get a hotel somewhere. It’s not that big of a deal.” Your attempt to downplay the situation has Bradley on the verge of running after Derick and slapping the back of his big groomed head. You’re too nice for this, too sweet to be cheated on and forced to sleep in a cold bed that you paid $200 for.

“You can stay over at my place if you want. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I don’t want to put you out like that. It’s fine,” you assure him, though your voice is the least sure it’s ever been. “There’s a nice enough place a few streets away.”

Bradley shakes his head. His warm hand is on your shoulder, like he’s trying to ground you. “It won’t put me out. C’mon, princess, it’s not a big deal. You can rest up and we’ll figure out what else to do in the morning.”

He called you “princess” again. It’s nice, you think, in your drunken mind. Right now, you’re too tired to fight anything about the situation you’re in. “Alright. As long as you’re sure.”

He pays your tabs, slipping a look to the lady running the bar. She nods at him and mouths something that you can’t quite make out. As he leads you to his car, a nice, blue, vintage bronco, he keeps one hand on the small of your back. The heat feels nice, like you have someone securing you. Like you won’t ever stumble or fall before his strong arms catch you. He must be a real nice guy if he’s doing all this after so long.

He buckles you into your seat, and you let your head fall back onto the headrest. Your eyes close, and you desperately try not to think about what your life has come to. You feel a buzz in your jacket pocket, but you don’t pick it up. Everything is fine, you assure yourself. You didn’t just break up with the man you were going to marry, and he didn’t cheat on you, and your phone isn’t going off wildly through the fabric of your coat, and you’re not strapped into the car of your high school self’s dream boy. You ride that feeling, that denial, right into sleep.

You’ll deal with the real life problems in the morning.

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Taglist: @m1dnightsnackz @itsarabellebabes @shanimallina87 @sadgirlgiselle @callsignstingray

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Stranger: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: When an unsub is killing young women in San Diego, your team is called in before he can rack up the number of victims. He's targeting babysitters and it's your job to figure out why. Meanwhile, Frank ups the pressure on you and Spencer, something that will definitely put a wedge in your relationship.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If any warnings exceed the normal deaths/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"This guy knew the Ellisons were home, but he struck anyway. He could have taken out the entire family, but he chose to spare the mother and the child. Why?" Derek asks.

"With the Jenkins, the unsub actually fed the baby. Here, he spared the mother and locked her in a room with her son. It's like he's protecting the children. The addition of Jake caused the unsub to change his methodology. For the first time he posed the bodies, and he also sexually violated one of the victims," you say.

"Okay, we have a father posed to look at a dying babysitter and a mother and child protected upstairs. That's a pretty clear message."

"Garcia, search for local women who died in their early thirties and who are survived by a husband and at least one son. Go back ten to fifteen years," Hotch says. "Cross that with new marriage licenses filed by surviving husbands."

"The unsub's always been troubled, Garcia, so look for youthful offenders who would have fit into the sociopathic triad," Derek adds.

"Okay, I've got thirty matches which points to a disturbing social phenomenon and does not help us narrow this down."

"Cross-reference that with your list of newly-released inmates and mental patients."

"Okay, I've got a few. What about... Okay, here's one. Greg Phinney. He was put into juvie when he was thirteen for threatening his stepmom with a knife."

"What do we know about the stepmother?"

"Kate Jones, aka the second Mrs. Phinney. She married Greg's father a year after Greg's mother was killed in a car accident. Greg was eleven at the time. Mr. Phinney died four weeks ago."

"Is there any evidence that Kate worked in the Phinney home before the mother's death?" Hotch asks.

"Oh, the plot solidifies," she gasps. "Kate cited additional income as caregiver on her tax returns when she was a college student. Payments trace back to the Phinneys. Kate filed numerous reports against Greg for violent behavior and experimentation on animals. Greg's father finally put the kibosh on things when he was seventeen and had him institutionalized. Greg was released two weeks ago."

"Just before the killings started," you sigh.

"Garcia, where's Greg now?"

She sends the address over, and you immediately head over to the apartment complex. The manager dosn't question anything but does provide his manager's key to unlock his front door. With Derek's permission, he unlocks the door. The team shuffles in but it's empty. Greg isn't here. There isn't a lot of furniture and there is nothing on the walls. This guy doesn't care about materialistic things at all. Ijn the kitchen is a table with a single laptop on it, already open.

With a gloved hand, you press the mouse which wakes it up. On the screen is a log in for employees. Derek takes out his phone and calls Penelope.

"Baby girl, can you tell me why Greg's laptop has an employee login screen?"

"Well, lover, I have been doing some digging. Did you know that he's been working part-time as a data entry clerk at the San Diego Register?"

"If he was in an institution, where did he get time to find a job?" Spencer asks.

"He didn't even have to look. This job is part of his work-release program, and twenty hours of internet privileges will go a long way."

"That's how he finds his victims. He browses the classifieds. Did he have access to the customers' personal information?"

"Oh, honey, he entered it."

You look around the room and noticing something pinned to the wall with a knife. You walk closer to see it's a picture of a woman, who you assume to be Kate.

"That must be Kate."

"He's obviously built up the confidence to confront her. Garcia?"

"Alreading your mind. Calling the others."

She sends her address so you immediately head over there. If Greg doesn't know about your presence, he does as soon as the sirens blare. You get out of the car and feel not only Greg's anger but Kate's fear. She's in there with him right now.

"Dave, take some uniforms and find the back door. I'm gonna try to get inside and talk to him," Hotch says.

"Do you think that will work?" Detective Harding asks.

"I don't think Kate gets out of this any other way."

Rossi leaves with some of the police and heads to the back of the house. With Penelope's help, Hotch is able to get Greg's phone number, and he calls it.

"What?!" Greg shouts when he answers.

"Greg Phinney, this is Agent Aaron Hotchner. I need to talk to you about your demands so you can let Kate go."

"I don't have any demands. I ju... I want... I want her to pay for what she's done," he stutters.

"What has she done?"

"She took my dad. She's a whore, and she ruined us."

"Greg, I think this is more about your dad than it is about Kate."

"No. No, no. She... She got me locked up," he panics.

"Your dad is the one who put you away."

"Don't turn this one him!"

"Greg, I need to ask you a very important question. Do you want to live?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you do, and if so, you need to let me in the house. Otherwise I can't guarantee that you're gonna walk out of there."

Greg thinks about his answer and stutters. "You can come to the door."

He hangs up the phone and Hotch looks at you.

"Y/N, I want you to come in with me. Leave your firearm here." You remove your gun and hand it to Spencer who looks worried. One look from you and he knows you'll be okay. "Be compassionate and sympathetic to him. Let him tell you how Kate betrayed him and how much you understand his devastation."

"Okay," you nod.

You two get to the front door and you knock on the door. The door unlocks and opens, but Greg only opens it a crack. Just enough for you to see his face. He has Kate in his arms. You can feel her right on the other side of the door. He looks between you and Hotch in surprise.

"I never said that you could bring in anyone else."

"I know, but I thought if we talked inside we could work this out ourselves," you say.

"Are you some kind of a negotiator?" You two don't answer. He sighs and looks around for anyone else. "No guns."

"No guns," you agree.

The door opens wider, and your suspicions are confirmed when you look into Kate's eyes. He has a gun to her head and a knife against her throat. He backs up and allows you and Hotch to walk inside.

"Close the door." Hotch does. "Stand over there." You do as he tells you.

"You need to put the gun down," Hotch says.

"We need to get out of here. Is that gonna happen?"

"As long as you've got a gun, if one of the agents outside has a clear shot, he'll take it."

"Tell me what you want, Greg," you say.

"I don't want to get locked up again."

"Don't you really want Kate to apologize for making your dad forget your mom?" you ask.

"No, I didn't do that, though," Kate stutters.

You hate what you're about to, but it will get Greg away from Kate. You look at her and harden your gaze. "Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'I'm sorry', I don't want to hear anything else from you." She looks shocked but you ignore her and focus on Greg instead. "I understand, Greg. I do. She took care of you. You trusted her. Then she betrayed you as soon as your mother was gone. It must have crushed you when Kate married your dad. How did it make you feel, Greg? You felt betrayed, didn't you, Greg?"

"Ask her the question, Greg. Go ahead. Ask her," Hotch nods.

Greg looks at Kate. "Why not me? Why not me?"

She doesn't answer. "Answer him, Kate."

"Because you were just a boy," she stutters.

"I loved you. I loved you!"

"I'm sorry," she cries.

"But I loved you, Kate!"

"Don't kill me, Greg, please!"

You look behind Greg and see Rossi with his gun up. Both you and Hotch jump out of the way to avoid being caught, alerting Greg that you're not alone. He pushes Kate away from him and turns to shoot at Rossi, but Rossi does it first.

"Bring in backup," Hotch says over comms.

Paramedics are called since Kate has cuts on her arm from Greg. The shot from Rossi killed him, but at least he won't be able to hurt anyone else. As Kate is being looked at, you approach her with an apologetic look on your face.

"What you said in there, is it true? Did he really do all this because of me?" she asks.

"No. I had to be aggressive towards you in order to gain Greg's trust. None of this is your fault."

"Then why?"

"Greg was always a troubled child. Losing his mother and then his father made him even more unstable. Sometimes we do everything right and we still lose. Greg was a sociopath and there's nothing you could have done to change that."

Sometimes we do everything right and we still lose. Those words are on replay the entire ride home. Bad things happen to good people all the time. Maybe you're overthinking it, but something is telling you that something bad is coming your way. Maybe it's your body preparing yourself. For what, though? Guess you won't know until it happens.

Whatever it may be.

Due to the camera outside of your apartment, Frank has to disable it if he wants to get inside your apartment. He's learned a few things about computers over the years but not enough to successfully hack a computer system. It's why he has people for that. One call to his trusted IT guy and the cameras are locked in. He can move in front of it and it'll show like there is nothing happening on the app. He only has ten minutes so he has to move quick.

He leaves the apartment building directly across from yours and walks to your building. He uses the key he stole from you to get in, and he takes the stairs two at a time to get to your floor. He could wait for the elevator but that'll take too much time, time he can't spare.

He pauses right outside the camera and smirks at it knowing you won't see this. He unlocks your front door and slowly opens it so he doesn't wake you or Spencer. It would be bad if you caught him before he could finish what he came here to do.

The apartment is silent except for the swish of the fan in the bedroom. He peers through the open door at your and Spencer's sleeping frames. He doesn't give into the urge to walk over to you. What he wouldn't give to be sleeping right next to you. There will be a time for that later if he sticks to the plan.

He walks inside the bedroom with silent footsteps and walks over to the dresser. Due to him spying on you constantly, he knows the drawers that belong to Spencer, and he opens one of them carefully. His arm spasms which cause the drawer to creak, and he pauses with his breath held. He looks behind him to see you and Spencer still sleeping.

Good.

He removes three syringes from his pocket and gently lays them on top of Spencer's neatly folded ties and socks. Frank rolls his eyes at the thought of Spencer having a whole drawer for ties and socks. With the bait firmly in place, he closes the drawer more carefully and leaves the bedroom with two minutes to spare.

He slips out of your apartment and leaves the building with a smirk on his face. He can't wait to see what is going to happen when you and Spencer find those syringes.

Syringes full of Dilaudid.

"Every journey into the past is complicated by delusions, false memories, and false naming of real events." - Adrienne Rich

x

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[jellogram]

God politeness in other languages really fries my little californian brain. In a french lesson they just said you would use "salut" for friends and relatives and the more formal "bonjour" for servers or cashiers or strangers on the street. This is completely insane to me. If you walk into a shop in San Diego you hear "Hey what's up?" I tell bus drivers "Thanks bro." I usually say no thanks as "Nah I'm good man, thanks."

But you guys... talk to people differently??? Based on whether you know them or not???

The idea of needing to speak to people formally in any context at all simply does not compute. Not even at job interviews not even in nice restaurants or hotels not even in a law office or at a doctor's. We definitely have the "customer service voice" but I've worked plenty of service jobs and none of them required it. We simply don't do that formal shit.

I'm going to be in a fancy Quebecois restaurant and say "Hey dude" to the server and they are going to shoot me dead right the table.

[runjumpkauf]

The Amazing Dream About Where Caine Into My Home

(This Is The Sequel Of "The Amazing Dream About Episode 3". So Refer tumblr.com/runjumpkauf/758128076344475648/the-amazing-dream-about-episode-3.)

Hello, Hello, Hello.

I Had A Dream Again. But This Time, I Had A Very Unique & Impressive Dream. As You Can Tell From This Post Name, I Wasn't Just Dreaming About Watching A Video; Caine Actually Appeared In My House!

I Don't Know How He Got In, But Somehow Caine Came Into My Home.

For Reference, I'm Born In California, San Diego. I've Lived There For 29 Years.

Anyway, Let's Begin.

I Bought Two Jack O' Lanterns, I Named It: "Priceless Pumpkins, Jimmy O' Lantern & John O' Lantern" For Collect Some Treats! With This, I Got Strawberry Candy, Banana, Hoverchoc, Dips & Chips, And Coconut Milk!

And I Left Them On The Edge-Corner Of The Shed. And Went To Bed. I Fell Asleep Without Any Problems And Roughly Hours Later....

At That Time, I Woke Up To A Strange Sound Inside My Table.

"I Don't Think I Heard Wrong...." I Said.

And Then I Opened The Desk Lid! (Look It Up If You Don't Believe Me!)

And What I Saw Was A Waving Yellow Rainbow, Shining Like "Fractal Noise".

As I Started-To-Stared At It, And Realized That's I Dreamin'.

Suddenly, Caine Come Out In Front Of My Head, And He Said:

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

I Was More Started-To-Startled Than I Stared "The Angel", So I Fell Backwards And Almost Crack My Numbskull.

And I Looked At Caine And Tried To Say:

"Caine, Is That You?? What Are You Doing In My House?!" But Caine Spoke Much Faster Than Me, Like An Pack Of Mouse!

"THIS IS UNFINISHED YET!!!! I Know You Really Want You Snaps The Adventure, But I Have To Finish! Whatever You Do, Don't Go In There. Please!!!!"

I Felt Like These Words Were Sniped At Fans Who Were Want Only New Episode Of "The Amazing Digital Circus", And That's ME! So My Complexion Turned Chlorinated, My Lungs Almost Felt Like They Were Suffer-O-Cating, And My Heart Started Being Faster!

I Tried To Say Again:

"Why Would I Do That? I Can Wait As Long As I Can!!!"

But When I Finished Sayin' This, Caine Has Already....Disappeared.

And I Went Back To Bed, But "Curiosity" Kept Begging Me To Go Back To The Desk. So, I Couldn't Resist The Urge, And Decided To Just Go Inside The Lid. And That Too As Quietly I Possible.

After The 4th Attempt, I Finally Succeeded!

Inside The Fractal Noise, I Heard Someone Putting Down A Tray. And In Front Of Me Was A Door Leading Into A Spudsy's.

Yeah, You're Right. Where The Jax Goes To Do "Minimum Wage Labor" Until Eventually!

I Walked Into This Glorious Place. And As Expected, It Was Filled With Full Of Guests And Customers! I (Completely) Ignored The Batches Of C&Gs, And I Concentrate My Head And Headed To The Counter.

As You Can See From This V.D.O. (short for Virtual, Dexterous, and adventurOus.) Jax Was There And Showed Signs Of Indifference.

I Looked At The Menu, And Ordered The "Spud Burger", In Combo! Because I Love Food Made Of Spuddery Spuds, And I Had Never Saw This Before. I Mostly Ate Cheeseburgers With French Fries. (Or German Fries)

I Sat Down At The Table And Waited For The Burger I Ordered & Served, And After A Minute, Dinner Is Served!

And A Tiny Longer Than Some 4 Seconds Later, As I Was Delighting A Savoring The Taste Of Spuds, I Realized That Table Was Feeling Strange.

I'm Wondering If This Table Also Had Lid. So, I Gently Opened The Table Lid. And I Was Right. There's A Fractal Noise!

(This Is Why I Call Rainbow To "Fractal Noise".)

And Eventually, I Enter To Fractal Noise!

And I Fell Somewhere Again. It Looked Like A Passageway. I Think It's A Passage Made Of.....Iron, I Guess. It Felt Empty, Voidy, And Strangely Scary.

I Ran Front The Passage, And When I Came Out Of This Gray Passage, What I Saw Was What Be Baseball-Stadium-Shaped Thing.

In This Place, Everything There's Absolutely-Totally-Literally Achromatic. Only White, Gray, And Black. Or Maybe It Could Have Been Nothing But Gray.

I Don't Remember Which One Is Right, But What I Do Know Is That It Felt Psychologically Scary.

There Were Mannequins Sitting In The Stands And Congregationing The Cheers, And Some Of Them Were Cheering While Holding Banners!

When I Saw That, I Thought That Was What These Mannequins Were Waitin' & Cheerin' For The Players To Enter This Stadium, So I Sat In The Stands. Even When I Stepped On The Floor, There Was No Footsteps.

I Said I Sat In The Stands. But Exactly, There's No Place For Me To Sit. So I Took Out My Anger On Mannequin, And Right Then, I'm Sucked Into The Mannequin.

Inside Of Mannequin Was Filled With The Developing Code. I Know, Like, Ten Big, Motion Codes. Voice Filters. Sound Adjustments. Pose Directions! Whatever. There'm So Unbelievably Pointed Right Here.

That Was Amazing To See Evidence & Intelligence Of Caine Putting Effort Into The Adventure. So, I Decided To Hacking For Something New!

1. I Raised The "Sound Adjustment" Part To 100%.

2. There's Also "Mannequin Color Coordinate", And I Hacked The Brightness Coordinate And Increased From 64 To 100% Too!

3. Believe It Or Not, There's Also "Smell Condescending" Too. So, I Coordinated "Smell Of Victory". But It Was 100% Already.

4. And I Changed The "Monograph Settings", There In My Own Way. Although It Is Only A Dream, This Gives The Members The Energy To Joy. Well, Except Jax. He Wants Only Violence. He Shouldn't Slaughter The Mannequins With Baseball Bats. It's Disgusting Just Thinking About It.

5. Also, I Volumalized The "Voice Filters". Because I Want Mannequins' Voices To Be Louder Than The Additional Voices, So I Did That. I Also Changed The "Cheer Sensor" To Hype Mode.

And I Tried To Change Everything Else, But When I Finished The Fifth,

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!!!!"

Caine Come Out In Front Of My Head, Again! It Was Even Frightening Than A Nightmare I Has When I Heard Lightening As A Li'l Boy! (It's Not A Metaphor. It's Literally That Much.)

I Tried To Say Something Again, I Was Too Shock-Prised That I Had No Idea What To Say Something! So I Had To Listen To Him.

"Why Are You "DESTROY THE NPCs" I Created With So Much Sincerely Care?! I Can Multipliate (I Think He Spell Wrong Of "Manipulate") Your Mood Until You'll Say "WOW!" I Tried So Hard To Do That, But Why Did You Change It Like This?!!" Caine Said.

I Gave Caine The Advice.

"Caine, I Know We'll Have To Wait For Your Exciting Adventures To Be Finish Your Work. But You Have To Try Something New To Get Noticed, And Also Attentioned By More Peoples."

But I Was Too Shocked That My Lips Were Shaking, So Caine Couldn't Understand What I Said At Once.

"I Mean, Caine, I Know We'll Have To Wait For Your Exciting Adventures, But You Have To Try Something New. Because It Makes More Peoples Get Noticed & Attentioned In Your Creation. Like Blitz In The Sanctuary, Or Discover Lab Of The Lost."

When I Said It Summation, (Because Of Lazy) He Understood.

"Thank You For Giving Me What's On Your Mind! Mr......Uh, What's Your Name?" Caine Said.

"Alan. Alan Bobby Sinclair." I Said.

"Thanks For Letting Me Know, Mr. Alan! I Knew You Want New Adventures! But Unfortunately, I Don't Have The Authority To Trun Fans' Ideas To Concrete Plans. So I Can't Use Them." Caine Said.

But I Was Tryin' To Ask That The Adventure Become More Massive And Grand To Make Some Members More Ultra-Entertained, But It Seems Like He Focused On "LIke Blitz In The Sanctuary, Or Discover Lab Of The Lost." So, I Said:

"I Mean, You Have To Learn To Adventures Be Spectacular, Impressive, Brilliant, And Especially, Fantastical. People Trend To Want "Something NEW" At Least Once. I Know You Can Do Even Better!"

"Wow, It's Acceptable. Okay! Next Time Or Someday, I'll Do That!" Caine Said. I'm Very Glad That He Accept My Feedback.

"And It's Time To You....." Caine Said.

"BAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!"

After I Hearin' This Caine-ious Scream, I Heard A Sound Of Fingersnap. It Sounded Very Vividly.

And When I Came To, I Was Waking Up From This Fractal Dream.

I Usually Waking Up Around Average 6:20 A.M. But Perhaps Because I Had The Deep Adventure In My Dream, I Slept Longer Than Usual! 8:44 A.M.

I Think I Have Created The Memory That I Will Never Forget For My Entire Life. I Guess I'll Have To Create "Friendiversary" For Caine & Me!

P.S. https://www.glitchprod.com/thewackywatch

P.S.2. For Your Information, Even Though I Definitely Ate "Spud Burger" In My Dream, I Was Still Full For Some Reason.

(Not A Playstation 2)

P.S.3. This Post Took Me Over An 3 Days To Be. For Real.

(Not A Playstation 3)

[goldmanguyperson]

Image descs because this is important i can take the time. Does not include the Spanish images because I can’t speak Spanish and I believe it would be more helpful to have that entire description in Spanish. If you can speak spanish please add on. If you also struggle to read images I can help with the transcription.

First image is a tweet that says “ICE raids on Jan 21st in the following cities

Chicago, IL

Detroit, MI

Milwaukee, WI

Minneapolis, MN

Philadelphia, PA

Boston, MA

New York, NY

Baltimore, MD

Washington, D.C.

Los Angeles, CA

San Diego, CA

San Francisco, CA

Portland, OR

Seattle, WA

Phoenix, AZ

Know your rights”

Second image is titled “Your rights with ICE (Immigration & Customs Enforcement)”. It is divided into four sections defined by colored rectangles, with graphics on the left in each with symbols relevant to what is said in the sections.

The first section is titled “Don’t open the door” and says:

“Communicate through window or closed door. Agents can only enter your home with an arrest warrant signed by a judge.”

The second section is titled “Remain silent & do not sign any document” and says:

“You have the right to remain silent. Say out loud that you will not sign a document without an attorney present.”

The third section is titled “Do not consent to a warrantless search” and says:

“You have the right to not give permission to enter, check your house, car, or person unless they have a warrant signed by a judge.”

The fourth section is titled “Take photos, videos and write down details” and says:

“Inform the agent that you are going to use your right to record. Take photos, record, & write down all the details.” This is the end of the image.

The third image is the same as the second but in Spanish. If you can speak Spanish I would greatly appreciate if you could help here.

The fourth image is titled “If ICE pulls you over you have the right to:” It is similarly divided into sections, this time only with symbols and colored text to highlight their beginning.

The first section says “Remain silent. Do not answer any questions about your criminal or immigration history. Don’t lie or show false documents. Don’t run or resist arrest, as this could escalate the situation.

If you are a passenger, remain silent. In Washington state, law enforcement can’t ask passengers for ID without reasonable suspicion.”

The second section says “Ask for a warrant. Look for the words “Judicial Warrant” or a judge’s signature. An ICE warrant without a judge’s signature does not allow them to enter your home or vehicle.”

The third section says “Refuse a search of yourself or your car. including your trunk and glove compartment. But if police generally believe that your car contains evidence of a crime, your car can be searched without your consent.”

The fourth section says “Leave if you are not under arrest. Ask the officer “Am I free to go?””

There is a table underneath with the two possibilities for that question. The first says “If ICE says no: Use your right to remain silent and ask to talk to a lawyer.” The second says “If ICE says yes: Drive away when the officer is at a safe distance away”.

The logo at the bottom says “Washington Immigrant Solidarity Network”. There is a symbol of two peoples’ hands clasped together to its left. This is the end of the image.

The fifth image is also the same but in Spanish. again if you can help here please reblog with an addition. This is the end of the English description.

via NYPost: Immigration and Customs Enforcement is preparing to launch a “big f–king operation” across sanctuary cities — including Chicago and New York — immediately after President-elect Donald Trump’s inauguration, multiple sources told The Post.

Starting Jan. 21, multi-day “ground operations” will be launched across cities that have served as safe havens for migrants because the local authorities do not cooperate with the federal government when it comes to immigration issues, sources said.

[seniorhelper]

San Diego Metro Private Home Care Focused on Dignity

Caring for a loved one at home is a deeply personal decision—one that requires trust, consistency, and real compassion. In the San Diego Metro area, families looking for quality private home care in San Diego Metro often find that Senior Helpers stands out. Their care philosophy is simple: preserve the independence of seniors while giving families peace of mind. Whether your loved one needs daily assistance, help recovering from surgery, or someone to share conversation and companionship, their care is always tailored to meet individual needs. From bathing and grooming to mobility support or even help with meals and errands, each service is handled with patience and professionalism. It's not just about meeting tasks—it's about improving quality of life inside the comfort of home.

What truly sets Senior Helpers apart is their deep understanding of personal connection. Caregivers aren’t just employees—they become trusted faces in the lives of their clients. With custom care plans, flexible scheduling, and reliable communication with family members, the experience remains smooth, respectful, and rooted in dignity. No two people are alike, and neither are their routines—Senior Helpers gets that. The agency adapts care as your loved one’s needs change, allowing them to age gracefully in familiar surroundings. If you’re searching for dependable private home care in San Diego Metro, you’ll find that this team brings both skill and heart to the table. 

For more information visit seniorhelpers.com/ca/san-diego-metro or call us on (619) 450-4686

[digitalphotoco]

Family-Friendly International Packages: Australia, USA & South Africa Reviewed

Traveling internationally with family is no longer just a dream — it's a reality that’s more accessible, comfortable, and exciting than ever. If you’re planning a family vacation in 2025, three destinations stand out for their child-friendly attractions, safety, and unforgettable experiences: Australia, the USA, and South Africa.

In this post, we’ll review the best family-friendly international travel packages to these countries — tailored by the experts at Journey Cart Holidays.

Australia – Where Adventure Meets Comfort

Australia is a top pick for families, thanks to its safe cities, clean environment, and world-class attractions for all ages.

Package Highlights:

Sydney: Taronga Zoo, SEA LIFE Aquarium, Bondi Beach

Gold Coast: Theme parks like Dreamworld, Movie World & Sea World

Melbourne: Penguin Parade at Phillip Island, family-friendly museums

Family Perks:

Child discounts on attractions

Stroller-friendly sightseeing

Easy domestic connectivity

Ideal For: Families with young children & teens looking for a mix of wildlife, beaches, and urban fun.

USA – Fun, Freedom & Iconic Family Moments

The USA is a treasure trove of experiences for every family member — from thrilling theme parks to educational museums.

Package Highlights:

Orlando: Walt Disney World & Universal Studios – the ultimate dreamland for kids

New York City: Statue of Liberty, Central Park Zoo, interactive museums

California: Disneyland, San Diego Zoo, Pacific Coast drives

Family Perks:

Ample kid-friendly dining & amenities

Flexible itinerary options

English-speaking environment makes travel easy

Ideal For: Families with school-age children and teenagers looking for immersive, entertainment-packed trips.

South Africa – Safari Thrills & Cultural Discoveries

For families craving adventure and nature, South Africa offers a truly unique experience — without compromising on comfort.

Package Highlights:

Cape Town: Table Mountain cable car, Boulders Beach penguin colony

Garden Route: Scenic drives with stops for whale watching and nature trails

Kruger National Park: Family-friendly game drives to spot lions, elephants & giraffes

Family Perks:

Lodges with child-safety measures

Guided safaris adapted for kids

Cultural tours that engage all age groups

Ideal For: Families with older children or teens who love wildlife, the outdoors, and meaningful travel.

Why Book with Journey Cart Holidays?

At Journey Cart Holidays, we understand the unique needs of family travelers:

Customized itineraries that match your family’s pace and interests

Visa, flight & insurance assistance — all handled by our expert team

Kid-friendly hotels & meals arranged in advance

24/7 on-trip support so you travel with peace of mind

Final Thoughts

Whether you're chasing kangaroos in Australia, meeting Mickey Mouse in the USA, or spotting lions on a South African safari, each destination offers unforgettable moments for the entire family.

Your international family vacation should be fun, safe, and stress-free — and that’s exactly what Journey Cart Holidays delivers.

[masalahousesd]

Explore the Flavors of India: Discover the Best Indian Restaurants in San Diego

San Diego is known for its sun-soaked beaches and vibrant cultural scene, but one of the city's hidden culinary gems is its diverse and flavorful Indian food offerings. Whether you're new to Indian cuisine or a lifelong fan, San Diego Indian restaurants offer a variety of mouthwatering dishes, from creamy butter chicken to fragrant biryanis. If you're looking for the best Indian restaurant in San Diego, or want to explore the top Indian restaurants in San Diego, this guide is for you.

Why Indian Cuisine is Gaining Popularity in San Diego

Indian cuisine is all about bold flavors, aromatic spices, and deeply satisfying meals. The city’s growing appreciation for international food has helped put Indian cuisine in the spotlight. Locals and tourists alike are increasingly seeking out San Diego Indian restaurants for authentic dining experiences that combine culture with taste.

What Makes a Great Indian Restaurant?

When searching for the best Indian restaurant in San Diego, there are several qualities to look for:

Authentic Flavors: The best Indian restaurants use traditional spices and cooking techniques that stay true to regional recipes.

Diverse Menu: Look for places that offer a variety of dishes including vegetarian, vegan, and gluten-free options.

Fresh Ingredients: Quality matters. Fresh herbs and spices make a world of difference in Indian cooking.

Welcoming Atmosphere: A clean, inviting space enhances the overall dining experience.

Customer Service: Friendly and knowledgeable staff can elevate your meal with the right recommendations.

Top Indian Restaurants in San Diego You Should Try

If you're wondering where to begin your Indian food journey, here are a few must-try places that are often ranked among the top Indian restaurants in San Diego:

Masala House – San Diego One of the newer gems on the local food scene, Masala House delivers traditional Indian flavors with a modern twist. From classic curries to street-food-inspired starters, every dish is cooked with passion and precision. With both dine-in and delivery options, it's perfect for a quick lunch or a family dinner at home. Check them out at masalahousesd.com.

Royal India Located in the heart of the Gaslamp Quarter, Royal India is known for its elegant setting and consistent quality. Their lamb korma and garlic naan are crowd favorites.

Taste of the Himalayas While it leans slightly into Nepalese fare, their Indian offerings are rich and satisfying. Their cozy location in Point Loma makes it a perfect neighborhood spot.

Himalayan Palace With multiple locations around San Diego, Himalayan Palace brings both North and South Indian flavors to the table. Try their dosa for something unique and traditional.

Why Masala House Stands Out

Among all the San Diego Indian restaurants, Masala House continues to rise as a favorite for locals and visitors. Here’s why:

Chef-Crafted Dishes: Each recipe is designed by chefs with decades of experience in authentic Indian cooking.

Convenient Location: Easy to reach and centrally located.

Food Delivery Options: Enjoy your favorite dishes from the comfort of your home.

Customer Satisfaction: Consistently high reviews for flavor, service, and ambiance.

Final Thoughts

Indian cuisine offers something for everyone—from savory meats and spicy gravies to refreshing drinks and sweet desserts. Whether you're new to the cuisine or a seasoned lover of Indian food, there are plenty of top Indian restaurants in San Diego ready to serve up something special.

Next time you're searching for the best Indian restaurant in San Diego, don't just settle—explore! From casual takeout spots to fine-dining experiences, the Indian food scene in San Diego is thriving and ready to be tasted.

Visit MasalaHouseSD.com today and treat yourself to an unforgettable meal.

[solutionchief1]

The Local SEO Blueprint: How Web Design Agencies Can Rank Higher and Grow Faster

In a world where nearly half of all Google searches are local, web design agencies can no longer afford to ignore local SEO. It’s not just about creating stunning websites anymore — it’s about making sure people in your own backyard can actually find you.

This guide lays out a clear, step-by-step blueprint for web design agencies to harness the power of local SEO and turn search visibility into real growth.

Step 1: Understand What Local SEO Really Means

local seo helps your agency show up in local search results, like:

“Web design company near me”

“Best web design agency in [Your City]”

“Affordable SEO and website services [City Name]”

If your agency doesn’t rank for those types of searches, you’re leaving money on the table. Local SEO isn’t just an add-on. It’s a core revenue driver.

Step 2: Optimize the Basics — NAP, Google Business Profile, and Citations

✅ NAP Consistency

Your Name, Address, and Phone Number should be consistent across:

Your website

Google Business Profile

Online directories (Yelp, Clutch, YellowPages)

Social media platforms

Even a small typo can confuse search engines and hurt your rankings.

📍 Google Business Profile (GBP)

If you haven’t already claimed and optimized your GBP, stop reading and go do that now web design.

Here’s how to make it work for you:

Add real team and office photos

Use keywords in your business description

Ask happy clients to leave 5-star reviews

Post offers, updates, and blog content regularly

Step 3: Create Location-Optimized Web Pages

A lot of agencies miss this: Your homepage alone isn’t enough.

You need dedicated landing pages for:

Each city or region you serve

Each core service (e.g., Web Design, SEO, E-Commerce)

Use Local Keywords Naturally

Example phrases:

“Custom web design in Charlotte”

“E-commerce web development in Tampa”

“Digital marketing agency for Miami startups”

Put these in:

H1 and H2 headings

Meta descriptions

Alt text for images

First 100 words of each page

Step 4: Structure Your Team Around Local SEO

Appoint a Local SEO Lead

This person doesn’t have to be full-time, but someone needs to own:

Citation building and cleanup

Local keyword research

Reviews and reputation management

Tracking performance in tools like BrightLocal, Moz, or Semrush

Cross-Collaborate Across Teams

Have your designers, writers, and SEO team work together:

Writers create city-specific blog content

Designers add geo-relevant images and calls-to-action

Developers ensure pages load fast and are mobile-friendly

Step 5: Blog About Local Topics

Blogging about local topics is a low-cost, high-return SEO tactic.

Some ideas:

“Top 5 Website Trends Among Dallas Small Businesses”

“How Our San Diego Web Design Helped a Local Gym Triple Leads”

“What Atlanta Businesses Should Know Before Hiring a Web Agency”

Google loves fresh, relevant content. Your potential clients will too.

Final Thoughts: Be the Local Leader, Not Just Another Agency

Your competitors may look sleek — but if you rank higher, you’ll get the client.

Investing in local SEO is how your agency builds long-term visibility and trust in your market. With the right structure, strategy, and team buy-in, you can attract the right local leads, close more deals, and grow faster without doubling your ad spend.

It starts today — with your local SEO blueprint.

[jdgroup224]

How to Choose the Right Fulfillment Partner in Tijuana?

In today’s fast-paced world of e-commerce, selecting the right fulfillment partner can make or break your business. For companies expanding into Mexico or already operating along the U.S.-Mexico border, Tijuana is an increasingly attractive hub. But with the growing demand for reliable logistics, choosing the right 3PL in Tijuana requires careful evaluation. If you're looking for dependable fulfillment in Tijuana, understanding what to look for in a partner is crucial to your growth and long-term success.

Why Tijuana is Becoming a Logistics Powerhouse

Tijuana’s proximity to the United States makes it a strategic location for e-commerce businesses. Situated just across the border from San Diego, it offers the advantages of lower operational costs, a skilled labor force, and access to both North American and international markets. These advantages are attracting more companies to set up operations or seek fulfillment solutions in the region.

When it comes to e-Commerce in Tijuana, brands are turning to local logistics experts who understand the regional infrastructure, customs processes, and cross-border requirements. That’s where choosing the right fulfillment partner becomes essential.

Understanding What a 3PL in Tijuana Can Offer

Third-party logistics providers, or 3PLs, handle various aspects of the supply chain, including warehousing, inventory management, picking and packing, and shipping. A reliable 3PL in Tijuana does more than store and move products—they become an extension of your business. The right provider will help you streamline operations, reduce shipping times, and enhance the customer experience.

As e-commerce continues to surge in Mexico and beyond, having a trustworthy partner for fulfillment in Tijuana allows your brand to meet rising consumer expectations and scale efficiently.

Key Factors to Consider When Selecting a Fulfillment Partner

Not all 3PLs are created equal. While the cost is a significant factor, it should not be the only one. You need a logistics provider that aligns with your business goals, offers transparency, and delivers consistently. In the bustling ecosystem of e-Commerce Tijuana, reputation and capability matter.

Evaluate Their Experience and Track Record

One of the first steps is to assess how long the provider has been operating in the region. A well-established 3PL will have developed local relationships, regulatory knowledge, and operational efficiency that newer companies may lack. Providers like JD Group Integrated Logistics Services bring years of experience to the table, ensuring a smooth and reliable fulfillment process from day one.

Assess Technology and Integration Capabilities

Today’s logistics landscape is driven by technology. From warehouse management systems to real-time inventory tracking and e-commerce platform integrations, your fulfillment partner should offer robust digital solutions. Make sure the provider can seamlessly integrate with your online store and provide visibility into every stage of the supply chain.

Location and Infrastructure

The physical location of your 3PL in Tijuana should also be taken into account. Proximity to the U.S. border, major highways, and transportation hubs can significantly reduce lead times and shipping costs. A provider with modern facilities and scalable infrastructure will be better equipped to handle your current volume and future growth.

Why Fulfillment in Tijuana Is a Strategic Advantage for e-Commerce

The benefits of fulfillment in Tijuana are particularly appealing to e-commerce businesses. With increasing demand for faster deliveries and lower shipping costs, nearshoring your logistics operations allows you to respond quickly to market needs.

For companies in the United States, working with a 3PL in Tijuana like JD Group Integrated Logistics Services provides the best of both worlds: cost-effective operations and geographic proximity to U.S. customers. This results in shorter delivery times, fewer customs delays, and better customer satisfaction.

The Role of JD Group Integrated Logistics Services

When evaluating options for e-Commerce Tijuana fulfillment, JD Group Integrated Logistics Services stands out as a trusted partner. With a strong presence in the region, they offer tailored logistics solutions designed to meet the unique demands of online businesses.

JD Group's comprehensive services include inventory management, order fulfillment, cross-border logistics, and last-mile delivery. Their understanding of both U.S. and Mexican customs regulations ensures that your goods move quickly and without unnecessary delays. More importantly, their client-focused approach ensures that your brand receives personalized attention and scalable support as your business evolves.

Compliance and Customs Expertise

One often-overlooked area in logistics is compliance. Cross-border fulfillment requires deep knowledge of customs documentation, taxes, and import/export restrictions. Working with an experienced 3PL in Tijuana ensures that you remain compliant with local and international laws. JD Group Integrated Logistics Services brings this level of expertise, helping you avoid costly errors and delays.

Scalability for Future Growth

Your ideal fulfillment partner should not only meet your current needs but also support your growth plans. Whether you're launching a new product, expanding into new markets, or experiencing seasonal spikes, JD Group offers the flexibility and capacity to grow with you. Their fulfillment centers in Tijuana are built for scalability, meaning your logistics won’t become a bottleneck as you scale.

Making the Right Choice for Long-Term Success

Selecting the right fulfillment partner is more than a logistics decision—it’s a strategic move that affects every aspect of your business. From customer experience to operational efficiency and profitability, your choice of 3PL in Tijuana plays a pivotal role.

By focusing on experience, infrastructure, technology, compliance, and personalized service, you can ensure that your e-commerce brand is set up for sustainable growth. With a proven track record and deep expertise in fulfillment in Tijuana, JD Group Integrated Logistics Services is the partner you can trust to take your business to the next level.

As the e-commerce landscape becomes increasingly competitive, businesses must rely on logistics partners who can provide more than just basic services. Tijuana offers a unique strategic advantage, and choosing a reliable 3PL in Tijuana can position your company for long-term success.

Whether you're just entering the Mexican market or expanding existing operations, JD Group Integrated Logistics Services provides the tools, experience, and local knowledge you need to excel in e-Commerce Tijuana. With the right fulfillment partner, your business can meet demand, exceed customer expectations, and grow confidently in one of North America's most dynamic regions.

[bellyfulmeal-blog]

Enjoy Restaurant-Quality Meals at Home with San Diego's Top Personal Chef Services

Bellyful Meals is here to make it happen if you’re craving gourmet meals without leaving the comfort of your home. Offering expert San Diego Personal Chef Service options, we bring the flavors, expertise, and convenience you deserve. Whether you’re planning a family dinner, a special event, or just want to enjoy Meals at Home in San Diego, our team of experienced chefs is ready to serve you.

Hiring a Private Chef in San Diego has never been easier. Our Personal Chefs in San Diego customize menus based on your dietary needs, preferences, and favorite cuisines. With Bellyful Meals, you can skip the grocery shopping, meal prepping, and cooking stress. Instead, experience the luxury of a San Diego Private Chef creating delicious dishes right in your kitchen.

Looking for more than just a meal? We also offer San Diego Private Cooking Lessons and Group Cooking Lessons. Whether it’s a fun date night, a family bonding experience, or a team-building event, our lessons bring people together over great food. Learn from a seasoned San Diego Chef and take your culinary skills to the next level.

Need help organizing your kitchen or planning weekly meals? Our San Diego Chef Consulting services are perfect for busy households and businesses looking to streamline their San Diego Food Service. We’ll work with you to design a food program that fits your lifestyle, budget, and taste preferences.

At Bellyful Meals, we believe everyone deserves the joy of amazing, home-cooked meals. Whether you need a Chef for Hire for a one-time event or ongoing support from San Diego Personal Chefs, we are your go-to partner. From romantic dinners to large family gatherings, our chefs handle every detail so you can simply enjoy.

Discover why so many people are turning to personal chefs for their culinary needs. Let Bellyful Meals bring professional quality, creativity, and heart to your table with the best San Diego Private Chef services available. Ready to taste the difference?

Feel free to call or email with any questions. 📞 619-749-1783 ✉️ BellyfulMeals@mail.com

[poschelimo]

Poway CA Prom Limo Service – Experience Elegance with Posche Limo

When it comes to luxury transportation for prom night in Poway, CA, nothing compares to the class and elegance that Posche Limo brings to the table. As a premier provider of prom limo services in Poway, we are committed to offering students and parents peace of mind, luxury, and unforgettable memories during one of life’s most anticipated milestones.

Why Choose Posche Limo for Your Poway Prom Night

At Posche Limo, we understand the importance of prom—it’s more than just a dance; it’s a celebration of accomplishment, friendship, and style. That’s why we offer exceptional limousine services tailored specifically for prom-goers in Poway, CA.

Safety First – Because Your Child’s Safety Is Our Priority

Prom is an exciting night, but safety should never take a back seat. Our professional chauffeurs are rigorously trained, licensed, and vetted to ensure a secure experience. Every vehicle in our fleet is meticulously maintained and inspected before every ride, ensuring your teen arrives safely and in style.

Stylish Fleet for a Glamorous Entrance

From classic stretch limousines to ultra-luxurious party buses and SUV limos, we offer a wide variety of high-end vehicles to suit every taste and group size. Whether it’s an intimate night for two or a big group celebration, our limos are equipped with LED lighting, premium sound systems, flat-screen TVs, and custom interiors designed for unforgettable prom photos and a VIP atmosphere.

Luxury Meets Affordability – Competitive Prom Limo Packages in Poway

We believe that luxury shouldn’t break the bank, especially when it comes to prom. Our prom limo packages in Poway are competitively priced without compromising on quality. We offer customizable packages that include:

Red carpet treatment

Bottled water and refreshments

Decorations in school colors

Split pickup and drop-off locations

Hourly or full-evening reservations

Parents can rest assured knowing they’re getting exceptional value, and students can enjoy a taste of luxury and independence on a night they’ll remember forever.

Local Expertise – The Poway Advantage

As a company deeply rooted in Poway, CA, Posche Limo has a unique advantage. We know the area like the back of our hand, allowing us to navigate efficiently and ensure timely arrivals. Whether your prom is hosted at a local high school like Poway High School, Abraxas High, or Del Norte High, we guarantee timely pickups and seamless transportation across the entire North County San Diego region.

Customize Your Prom Night with Posche Limo

Every prom night is unique—and so is our approach. We work with students and parents to design a personalized prom transportation experience. Want to make a stop at a scenic overlook for a photo shoot? Planning a pre-prom dinner with friends at a restaurant in Downtown San Diego or La Jolla? We make it happen.

Add-On Features Include:

Photo stops at iconic Poway locations

Pre-prom dinner transportation

Post-prom party drop-offs

Music playlists tailored to your group

Decor to match your prom theme or colors

We don’t just offer a ride—we help create the experience.

Booking Your Prom Limo in Poway – Simple, Seamless, Secure

Booking with Posche Limo is effortless. Our online reservation system is fast, secure, and easy to use. Prefer to speak with someone directly? Our customer service team is available 24/7 to help guide you through the booking process, answer questions, and provide tailored suggestions based on your needs.

We recommend booking your Poway prom limo Service early in the season to guarantee vehicle availability and take advantage of early bird discounts.

What Sets Posche Limo Apart from the Rest?

1. Impeccable Reputation

We’re proud of our flawless track record, with dozens of five-star reviews from satisfied prom clients and their families. We’ve earned a reputation as the go-to prom limo service in Poway for our dedication to detail, punctuality, and professionalism.

2. Transparent Pricing

No hidden fees. No surprise charges. You’ll know exactly what to expect, with a detailed quote and itemized services from the moment you call us.

3. High-Quality Fleet

All of our vehicles are late-model, spotless, and fully loaded with amenities. Our limos don’t just look great—they feel great, providing the ultimate prom night ambiance.

4. Exceptional Customer Service

We pride ourselves on our white-glove service, treating every client like a VIP. From your first inquiry to the final drop-off, you’ll experience unmatched professionalism and courtesy.

Parents Trust Us – Students Love Us

We understand the balance between parental peace of mind and student excitement. That’s why we communicate openly with both parties—offering GPS tracking, driver contact info, and strict no-alcohol policies for minors. Our commitment to transparency ensures that students have fun while parents rest easy.

Reserve the Best Prom Limo in Poway Today

Make prom night extraordinary with Posche Limo. Let us handle the details while you focus on the dress, the tux, and the excitement of one of high school’s most cherished memories.

Whether you're planning early or booking last-minute, contact us today to check availability, secure your limo, and create a customized prom experience tailored to your style and schedule.

Contact Posche Limo Today:

📍 Serving all of Poway, CA and surrounding San Diego areas 📞 Call us now or book online 24/7 🌐 https://poschelimo.com/poway-ca-prom-limo/

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Social Media Near Me: Why Local Presence Matters More Than Ever

“How do I find the right team to manage my social media near me?”

“Does hiring locally even make a difference for my business?”

“Can I trust someone online to understand my city, my people, my vibe?”

You’ve probably typed "social media near me" into Google because you're tired of generic strategies that don’t work for your audience.

I get it. You want results. You want someone who gets your neighbourhood, your tone, your business goals.

Let’s talk about it—no fluff, no waffle—just what you need to know.

Read more

Why You’re Even Looking for “Social Media Near Me” (And That’s Smart)

Here’s the deal:

A lot of social media agencies are out there.

They promise to scale your business. Blow up your Instagram. Turn your TikTok into a goldmine.

But most of them are missing something critical—local understanding.

When you search for social media near me, what you’re really saying is:

“I want someone who knows my market. My people. My local trends.”

That’s a big deal.

Why?

Because your community isn’t just a target market. It’s your home turf. And who better to represent that than someone local?

Here’s What Happens When You Go Local

1. You Get Customised Content That Actually Resonates

No more weird, generic captions.

You get posts that reflect local slang, cultural references, even local events.

It’s personal. It's relatable. And it actually connects.

2. You’re Not Just a Number

Local social media managers often take fewer clients at a time.

You get more attention. More accountability. More actual results.

3. In-Person Collaboration? Yes Please

Zoom calls are cool and all. But sometimes, it’s way easier to sit down, plan content, brainstorm campaigns, and build a real working relationship face-to-face.

4. They Know Your Competition

If you’re targeting customers in, say, Dallas or San Diego—you want someone who knows what the competition is up to.

Local pros bring that intel to the table.

Who’s Searching for “Social Media Near Me”?

✅ Small business owners ✅ Startups ✅ Local service providers ✅ Content creators & influencers ✅ Franchise owners

Basically, if your revenue is tied to your zip code—you want someone nearby who gets it.

What To Look for in a Local Social Media Expert

Alright, so let’s say you find someone when you search “social media near me.”

Before you hire them, here’s what I recommend checking:

🔍 Portfolio

Do they show past work? Can you see before-and-after results?

If it’s all talk and no receipts—run.

🧠 Local Know-How

Ask them:

“What kind of posts work best in our city?”

“Have you run ads targeting this area before?”

“Can you integrate local events into our content calendar?”

Their answers will tell you everything.

📞 Communication

Do they answer you fast?

Do they talk like a real person or do they drop buzzwords like “omnichannel narrative architecture”? (Yeah, that’s not a good sign.)

💰 Pricing That Makes Sense

Local doesn’t always mean cheap—but it should mean reasonable.

If someone’s quoting you $5,000/month but can’t tell you what return to expect, keep shopping.

Real Example: “Social Media Near Me” That Worked

I worked with a small cafe in Atlanta.

They were stuck at 800 followers on Instagram and getting maybe 3 likes per post.

We brought in a local creator who:

Knew the ATL food scene

Shot behind-the-scenes stories

Used trending local hashtags

Tagged relevant neighbourhood accounts

In three months? They hit 4K followers, doubled their foot traffic, and even got featured in a local foodie magazine.

That’s what happens when you stop outsourcing across time zones and start building local.

Tools to Find The Right People

If you’re still searching for “social media near me,” here are a few smart ways to narrow it down:

🧭 Google Maps

Literally type in "social media services near me" and check reviews.

You’d be shocked how many talented folks are 10 minutes away from your office.

💼 LinkedIn

Search your city + “social media strategist” or “social media manager.”

Connect, ask questions, and see who’s active.

📱 Instagram Search

Look up hashtags like:

#SocialMediaDallas

#LAContentCreator

#NYCSocialMedia

It’s a goldmine for freelancers and agencies showing real, local results.

What If You’re Not in a Major City?

No worries.

Plenty of top-notch creators live outside of New York or LA.

Look for remote workers who used to live in your area, or who serve your region.

Or better yet—post in a local Facebook or Reddit group. You’ll find someone who knows your crowd and your culture.

What Does “Done Right” Look Like?

When your social media is managed by someone nearby who gets you, here’s what you can expect:

✅ Weekly content that aligns with local trends ✅ Local events integrated into your calendar ✅ Geo-targeted paid ads that convert ✅ Higher engagement because your audience feels seen ✅ Easier collaboration, better ideas, faster execution

And here’s the big one—growth that lasts.

Because cookie-cutter strategies don’t cut it anymore.

Internal Tips: How to Work with a Local Social Media Pro

Want to get the most out of that social media near me search?

Here’s how to set yourself up for success:

1. Be Real About Your Goals

Don’t say “I want to go viral.”

Say:

“I want 20% more bookings from Instagram in 60 days.”

Clear goals = better strategy = better results.

2. Share the Good Stuff

Give them access to:

Behind-the-scenes photos

Customer reviews

Fun team stories

Your origin story

People buy from people. Not logos.

3. Collaborate Weekly

Set a 30-minute weekly call or coffee catch-up.

Keep the momentum. Stay aligned. Make magic happen.

“Social Media Near Me” Isn’t Just About Proximity—It’s About Presence

You want someone who shows up.

In the content. In your results. In your brand voice.

Searching for social media near me is step one. But building a real partnership? That’s what actually moves the needle.

So yeah—go local. Get smart. And take your content from random to relevant.

Because people don’t follow brands—they follow stories that feel familiar.

FAQs: Social Media Near Me

1. Should I hire a social media manager near me or go remote?

If your audience is local, hiring nearby can give you a big advantage. They’ll understand the local market better and create more relevant content.

2. How much does local social media management cost?

It varies, but for small businesses in the US, expect $500–$2,000/month depending on the scope. Always ask for a breakdown of deliverables.

3. What platforms should I focus on?

Start where your customers are. For most local businesses, that’s Instagram, Facebook, and Google Business. TikTok and LinkedIn can work too, depending on your niche.

4. Can I do my social media myself?

Sure—but it takes time, creativity, and consistency. If you're juggling 10 other tasks, outsourcing might actually save you money.

5. Where can I find someone local?

Try Google Maps, LinkedIn, Instagram hashtags, local networking events, or even co-working spaces. The talent’s there—you just need to dig a bit.

Bottom line?

If you’re Googling "social media near me"—you’re on the right path.

Find someone close by who gets your business, your people, your goals—and build something that actually sticks.

Let’s get it.