#impossible for me to get to work with like an uber or whatever cause the guards would get pissed off

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

sometimes i think about that one post about how you should have people who are absolutely delighted by your existence and like that's nice and all but what happens when they get bored of u

[tsintotwo]

[My toxic trait is I’d get an unhinged fic idea for a niche fandom that maybe two other people want to read and STILL up and write it because it drives me crazy not to 🤦‍♀️...This is 59 Hours, Jake (Sweetbitter) x Reader. Snowed in and stuck in his apartment. Good Girl x Bad Boy, will be a few parts and will get lots saucier)]

Hour 01

You don’t know him, only that he’s called Jake. He’s pale, tall, slender, and casually handsome in a scruffy sort of way. You’re stuck in his apartment. And you have zero idea when you can leave.

‘You tried going to work in this fucking weather?’, he asks you. He’s looking out the window, but there’s nothing to see except pure white.  

‘I was already almost here’. News about this surprise blizzard arrived about the same time as the storm itself did. ‘Had to check out of my motel in the morning.’ you say from his single couch.

‘Not from here?’, he looks at you. An earring glints on his left ear.

‘No. But my firm collects data for neighborhoods all over the country. So I go all over.’

‘Data?’

‘Socio-economic stuff. Income, living standard, health.'

He eyes you, 'Aren't you too young to get stuck in a boring job like that?'

'It's not boring. You get to talk to all sorts of people.'

So much for that today, though. By the time you got there no one was out because FUCKING BLIZZARD, and you realized that the only thing you needed then anyway was to not be out in the open. 

You started walking- with no sense of direction and a mounting sense of helpless frustration. You couldn’t see two feet in front of you, and you were stuck in a shitty part of the town. To top it off, your phone ran out of battery because it’s just that kind of a day, isn’t it? Then walking simply became impossible, so you leaned against the wall you were walking along and let the stupid tears fall. As it turned out, the wall was opposite his building and that’s when he saw you angrily wiping the tears off.

'What do you do?' you ask. 'You were going out too.'

‘I bartend. And I wasn’t going out. I just opened the building side-door a few inches and saw this chick crying.’, he says with a smirk. It’s more condescending than jokey. This man doesn’t much care about being a nice guy, you think. But then, if he didn’t offer you shelter- be it out of sympathy, pity or basic decency- you’d be freezing to death right now.

‘Yeah.’, you say evenly, ‘I felt overwhelmed, and I cried.’ You see no point in being defensive. ‘Thank you, though, for letting me wait in your apartment’, you realize you forgot to say this until now. ‘You probably just saved my life.’, you add, earnest.

You don’t think he expected this answer to his dig. His smile disappears and he looks away. ‘Whatever’, he says, ‘It’s nothing. You said you had a flight?’, he’s got his phone in his hand, frowning, the blue glow lighting up the profile of his face- the sharp lines of his cheekbones, nose, chin and jaw.

You’ve found his power outlet, and are just plugging in your own phone, taking the charger out of your backpack. ‘Yeah, in the afternoon. As soon as my phone has some juice I’ll call for an Uber to the airport, and I will be out of your hair.‘

‘Yeah.’, he says, turning his phone around so you can see the news headline on the screen, ‘Good luck with that.’

All Outgoing Flights from NYC Cancelled.

Shit.

Hour 02

Jake's eyes are a vivid blue. He's from Cape Cod. He works at the Union Square Cafe. The woman who called to check in is not his girlfriend. This is as much as you learned about him in over an hour. He's not much of a talker. So far he’s largely ignored you- pacing about, fidgeting with items in the apartment, tapping his phone. You don't mind, but you mind that you're intrigued by him.

You're from a small town. When you're out working, you don't meet Jake's kind of people: people who give this edgy-cool vibe. It's effortless too. And he's hot. But you better not be interested, 'cause there's another current to the vibe you know very well: bad news. Jake is trouble. You don't have time for that sort of stuff.

He plops down on the bed. Lounges in a way that reminds you of a jungle cat. 'I’m almost out.’, he says, lighting another cigarette. ‘This is my emergency pack. That’s why I went downstairs to look. To see if I could get out for a quick minute and get a fucking carton or something.’ You guess he's starting to talk out of pure boredom.

You sort of claimed Jake's couch. It's big enough for two and very comfortable. Snuggling in there with your feet up, you look at him. Even sitting down, leaning back, there's some kind of restless, coiled energy in him. Under his thin white tee-shirt, you can tell his muscles are toned… okay, maybe not a good idea to notice that. But you can’t help noticing how the ones in his arm flex, because the elaborate tattoos keep drawing your eyes on there. 

‘Is that what's making life hard for you right now?’, you say instead, deadpan. The blizzard actually got worse, the news portals are reporting unprecedented bad weather, and not even a truck, let alone an Uber car, could get here now through the snow. And where would you go anyway?

Jake snorts, letting a stream of smoke out of his nose and mouth. ‘You don’t, do you? Smoke?’

‘No. Never have.’

He raises his brows slightly. ‘Never? Not even a drag in high school?’ He’s got a voice that you like- a bit gruff and guttural.

‘No.’

‘Stronger stuff?’

‘Nope.’

‘Ever?’

‘Nope.

‘Sounds fun, between this and the job.'

'I haven't had much time for fun.', you say. Then you curse yourself. That bit of info was too personal to drop on a stranger- that too this stranger. There's just something about two people in a tiny space, sitting in a growing haze of smoke, with the world out all white and non-existent, you guess. Creates an illusion of closeness that's not there. 

But you said what you said, and you don't look away as his eyes lock with yours. 'Family shit?', he asks.

'Shit family', you say in short.

He nods and raises the bottle in his hand. 'I'll drink to that.' He takes a swig and offers it to you.

You shake your head, 'I'd rather have some food. Would you happen to have anything to eat? Or I can cook. Unfortunately, it looks like we’ll both be here for a while.'

'See if you can find anything in the fridge’, he sweeps the air with his hand, again drawing your attention to his tattoo. You think it’s a mermaid.

You stand up, and before stepping away, say, ‘Hey. Thanks again. I know you’d rather not have a random girl in your apartment-‘

‘That’s what you think?’, he gives a wolfish grin, looking up at you.

‘Well,’, you’re a bit flustered, but you recover, ‘Not one like me anyway. A rescue project. Here for an indefinite time- can’t chuck me out, can’t get out. And boring. So…’

He acknowledges your sarcastic dig with a slight nod. Then he says, ‘You’re not so bad, for a random girl.’, blowing smoke towards the ceiling.

Hour 04

Like many things, you’re also the cook in your family and you whipped up a decent meal. Truth be told you were a bit nervous- Jake works at a high-end restaurant, and while you’re not trying to impress him here you’d feel bad if he didn’t like the food. It’s his food anyway. But he seems to not only approve but enjoy it. He actually says, ‘Thank you’.

This makes you smile and- damnit, girl. That happy warmth in your stomach’s gotta go ‘cause it’s not the food that’s doing it. Jake’s got a small table with two chairs and sitting opposite him in the low light, eating and actually having some sort of an adult conversation- with thorny back-and-forths sprinkled in that you find challenging but exhilarating- is feeding into a gap in your life. You always either eat alone or you’re the only real adult at the table, worrying about whether your younger siblings are eating what they’re supposed to and whether your mom is eating at all.

But playing house with a strange guy in a strange city is not the way to band-aid that wound. You start clearing out the paper plates.

‘Let me.’, he stands up, taking the plates from your hand. His fingers brush yours. It should be nothing, but it isn’t.

‘Nobody’s cooked for me in ages.’, Jake says, unexpected because it’s real, free of sarcasm or cynicism as you’re learning is his usual style.

He’s really close to you. Your eyes meet, his look dark and stormy in the low light, and then they drop to your mouth for a second, making your heart drop a beat.

The shrill ring of his phone breaks the moment. He goes to receive the call, and you catch your breath.

Oh, this is so stupid.

And dangerous.

And inviting.

Hour 07

You realize you fell asleep on the couch. Jake is sleeping too, he’s on the bed. You browse your phone for a while and your heart sinks. The storm is expected to continue through the night. The city is at a standstill. The cell reception has started glitching too.

You stand up, go wash your face, walk around the apartment, looking at things. Jake’s got some cool books, an expensive camera, photos he took (you assume) framed on the wall. They’re of the beach, the sea, a woman. Then you look at him sleeping, and there’s this liquid affection that churns in you suddenly- without the usual furrowed brows and the hard set of his mouth, he looks so innocent and vulnerable. The dark hair falling on his forehead, thick lashes, smooth cheeks, soft lips. He’s actually quite pretty when he's not scowling, you realize.

Okay, neither that affection nor this realization is helpful. Smoke still hangs in the air, making the room stuffy, and you think you can open the widow a crack and let in some fresh air. But what come in are a flurry of snow and a bone-chilling gust, waking Jake up.

‘What the fuck?’, he says, sitting up, groggy.

‘Sorry, sorry!’, you close his window as quickly as you can and hold up your hands. ‘Just thought I’d let in some fresh air for a few seconds.’

He shakes his head, then checks his phone, frowning at the slow internet. ‘It’s not looking good for you’, he comments after a minute.

‘Yeah’, you sit down on the side of the bed, ‘I’m really sorry, Jake.’

‘You should be.’, he stretches, his t-shirt riding up just a bit, revealing a sliver of his pale, flat stomach- God, that’s distracting- ‘because of course, you personally summoned the storm, made it snow, got stuck on purpose.’

You roll your eyes, ‘I’m sorry I may have to impose upon you much longer than either of us planned.’

‘We can find ways’- he leans in, a smile pulling up the corner of his mouth, the silver chain he wears around his neck dangling, ‘to make us both less sorry.’

You are young, but you aren’t supposed to be naïve. So you’re really annoyed at how this instantly speeds up your heartbeat. You swallow, and say, ‘Are you flirting with me?’

‘Why?’, he cocks his head, ‘Does Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes disapprove?’ This close, you can smell his slept-in smell, and that shouldn’t be attractive, let alone this attractive.

‘No,’ you say, ‘just surprised to see Mr. Broody-Two-Shoes be interested in less-sorry thoughts.’

He snorts, ‘Thanks to your terrible joke, I no longer am.’

‘The hours I spent with you must be already rubbing off on me.’, you quip back, and this time his smile is almost genuine. You’re both quiet for a moment, and you know you both feel the connection that’s growing between you two.

‘I’m gonna go take a shower’, he moves away abruptly, and you have a feeling he’s afraid of connections that are real. That would be in character. You don’t judge though- you have your own issues, he has his. Both come down to the same thing- you two shouldn’t… fuck.

Why the heck did I think about that?- you curse yourself. As if it’s already not hard enough to rein in your mind.

While Jake showers, you change too. You’re spending the night here, there’s no getting around it. You have to travel light, and outfit choices for when you were supposed to be alone are not great. You slip on your tank top and pj shorts with a loose cardigan.

When Jake comes out of the shower, he stares at you for a moment. You are showing a lot more skin than you had been all day, so you get it, but worse, you kind of love how his eyes sweep over your body, seem to get stuck on the red birthmark under your throat. Making the situation more problematic is: post-shower Jake smells really good and he’s already done that thing with his arm that makes his tee ride up and you’ve not only seen his stomach again but also the sharp beginning of his pelvic bones because he’s wearing the loose pants low.

‘You look at home’, Jake comments, walking towards you.

You shrug, ‘Thought I’d claim the land.’

‘What about the owner?’ He’s standing really close. And okay, maybe he's this older guy, slick, no doubt has lots more experience with women than you have with men. He clearly sees that, so maybe he's just teasing you. Just some fun- get under your skin, make you squirm. But you aren't blind, and you see that some of it is real interest. The attraction between you two right now, chemistry, whatever- it's both-sided. You feel heat gathering in your abdomen. And that almost catches you off-guard. Arousal, and just from the mere proximity of this guy. You should stop this now.

‘I don’t plan to claim him.’, you say, trying to keep your voice even.

‘Why?’, Jake's voice drops to a husky, gravelly pitch, ‘Not good enough for you?’ You can see he’s taken your words as either offense or challenge, but you’re not into lying games.

So you say, ‘Maybe too good for me to afford.’, and walk away towards your couch. You’ll be safer on your own.

(Update: Part 2)

[casspurrjoybell-18]

Mutual Desire - Chapter 35b

*Warning - Adult Content*

“Damien, in the next few seconds I want to see you take a seat on this sofa next to me," the Russian ordered, his voice sounding as low as a whisper.

Curiously, Nabokov's gaze remained empty of all emotion, with not a glim of irritation. 

That didn't stop Damien from being annoyed by how Nabokov thought he possessed the right to command him around. 

Damien's jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. 

Right there was the perfect opportunity for him to leave with class and dignity and at the same time show Nabokov that he had no right over him. 

Yet Damien's muscles seemed unable to execute any movement. 

After an eternity of seconds staring at each other and being unable to no longer stand Nabokov s eyes on him, Damien threw the remaining of pride he had left out of the window and at last, sat down on the sofa, still giving himself an acceptable distance between him and Nabokov. 

His muscles seemed to work now, they, who cowardly abandoned him when the opportunities to leave had presented itself and that Damien didn't grasp. 

Damien sat on the sofa like a child in punishment. 

With a hard expression and arms crossed, he stared at the fireplace with an angry look, as if it was the one who forced him to stay and who had blackmailed him. 

Only the sound of fire in the hearth could be heard. 

The icy silence equaled the tension and atmosphere in the room. 

Damien suddenly took a bottle of wine and quickly poured a glass that he swallowed in a shot.

 Alcohol seemed to be his only ally right now.

 It would certainly help him to get through the rest of this evening and go through whatever nonsense Nabokov had in store for him. 

Damien filled his empty glass right after consuming his first one, which he swallowed in one gulp as well. 

He poured a third but took only a sip, remembering he was driving. 

Two whole minutes passed in an oppressive silence, which greatly surprised Damien who expected Nabokov to put an end to it as usual. 

If sitting in complete silence was what Nabokov had planned for the rest of the evening, it didn't bother Damien one bit. 

It was better than a pool game that would result in unwanted kisses. 

Of course, Damien wasn't as naive to go so far as to believe that Nabokov would simply settle for a moment of tranquility in front of a fireplace while sipping a glass of fine wine. 

Of course not. 

The billionaire had this special gift of spoiling everything, either with words chosen conscientiously to make Damien react, or by commanding him like some kind of dog at his mercy. 

And Nabokov confirmed Damien's thoughts when he ended the silence with words that caused a heat to run through Damien's stomach.

“I dreamed of us, you know?" Nabokov vaguely said.

Damien abruptly turned his head towards Nabokov. 

Once again, Nabokov was leaning back and kept his head up, staring at the roof with a thoughtful expression. 

Damien finished his drink and put the empty glass on the table. 

He was seriously considering finishing the bottle of wine now and simply call an Uber afterwards. 

He really didn't like the turn that this conversation seemed to take.

“Of your lips. Of our kisses," the Russian added gently, keeping his head in the same position, as if he was speaking to the roof.

Damien could only scrutinize Nabokov's profile as well as his sharp jaw and Adam's apple well in view. 

The Russian's words were constantly recited in his head. 

Words that Damien himself wasn't certain had actually been uttered. 

Maybe it was his brain that has been unreliable for some time now that was playing tricks on him. 

Perhaps it was the three glasses that were involved. 

It was downright impossible for Nabokov to have projected such words. 

A pure straight man.

“It was the first time I had such a dream about another man," the billionaire continued with this surprised confession, looking elsewhere.

Nabokov turned his head to Damien, the impassibility on his face not matching in any way with the words spoken. 

The two men looked at each other without any embarrassment. 

Suddenly, Damien had the eerie feeling that the space separating him from Nabokov had shrunk. 

His throat burned but he didn't even have the courage to swallow his saliva or take part in any random movement.

“It was an interesting experience," Nabokov murmured, pursuing with this revelation that amazed Damien.

It was with astonishment that Damien lowered his head but raised it immediately afterwards. 

He had been far too naive to believe that Nabokov would no longer invoked the kisses for the rest of the evening. 

Only one question was going through Damien's mind right now. 

Why did Nabokov tell him all this? 

Why make such a confidence?

“Why are you telling me this?" Damien murmured thoughtfully.

Damien didn't want an answer but if he got out of the room without getting it, he knew it would eat him from the inside.

“Because I still want a taste of your lips."

As soon as these words were said, Damien couldn't support Nabokov's intent gaze anymore. 

Damien Clark lowered his eyes quickly, making Alexander Nabokov’s words resonate again and again in his head. 

There were several instances in the evening where Damien needed to leave and now was one. 

Damien comprehended it more than he ever comprehend something in his life. 

He suddenly sensed Nabokov approaching closer to him but he didn't move, although everything in him encouraged him to flee as far as he could away from Nabokov. 

The billionaire turned Damien's head towards him, taking Damien's chin firmly in his hand. 

Their eyes crossed and Damien froze, unable to perform any movement, such as getting up and vacate the room. 

Nabokov drew his face gently towards Damien's, lust filled with emotion in his eyes. 

Damien secretly breathed in Nabokov's cologne, his distraught eyes staring at the man. 

Nabokov's lips threatened Damien's with a kiss. 

Damien knew what would ensue. 

This time he couldn't let Nabokov get his way. 

No more pool game would serve Damien as an excuse, if that potential kiss came to life. 

It had to end before it even started. 

Without even thinking about it, Damien's three fingers in the middle landed on Nabokov's mouth, intentionally causing a barrier between their two mouths.

“No more of that, Alexander," Damien whispered, his three fingers resting on Nabokov's mouth.

Nabokov let go of Damien's chin and delicately removed Damien's hand from his mouth, all without taking his eyes off of him. 

Then he grabbed Damien's chin again and compressed his lips without permission on Damien's. 

He forced his tongue still without any authorization and found Damien's which didn't take time to mix with his. 

Damien answered the kiss, offering the billionaire no resistance. 

The hand that held Damien's chin finally landed on his cheek, giving depth to this forbidden kiss. 

Their tongues fought with passion and voracity. 

The more seconds passed, the more the kiss was a fierce competition to the fireplace, since it was extremely heated. 

Damien put his thoughts on pause to better savor Nabokov's lips on his. 

When Nabokov's hand rested on his waist, 

Damien discerned what the billionaire wanted and he provided it without even thinking twice. 

Damien astride Nabokov slowly and did so without undoing the kiss, their mouths stuck to each other. 

Nabokov's hand was stroking Damien's back while the other was still resting on his cheek. 

Damien didn't take time to also do the same, his hand taking possession of Nabokov's cheek, giving even more intensity to this tongue dance that looked like it wouldn't end anytime soon and would only get fiercer.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Drivers License | Jimmy Donaldson

Requested? By me as usual 

Warnings? It’s really sad tbh and I’m sorry 

Summary: In the wreckage of your ex-relationship with Jimmy, you end up getting your drivers license, only bringing more memories rushing back 

Word Count: 2,436 (it’s a long one bb’s) 

Flashbacks are in italics

“(y/n)!!! Visitor!!” your roommate yells from downstairs.

A few seconds later you hear a knock on your door and as you look up, your best friend Chandler walks through the door. You try to offer him a smile but it's weak as he makes his way over to you. He sits across from you on the bed, crossing his legs as he pulls himself up in front of you.

"Hey bub, how are you holding up?" he asks, placing a hand on your ankle comfortingly.

“Not too bad,” you say smiling lightly. “My driver’s test is tomorrow."

"When you get your license you better drive to my house first."

You smile painfully as a memory of Chandler's best friend and your former boyfriend appears fresh in your mind.

“Are you picking me up today?” you ask Jimmy as you walk around your house trying to put on shoes as you hold the phone to your ear. 

“How else are you gonna get here?” he jokes and you pout even though he can’t see you. 

“That’s mean James. I could always ask Chandler.” 

“I’ll see you in fifteen.” 

You and Jimmy Donaldson, more famously known as mrbeast, were best friends since kindergarten. You both grew up in small-town North Carolina together and have been attached at the hip ever since. You did everything together and hung out constantly if you weren’t busy. If no one could find one of you, you were most likely with the other person. 

When Jimmy eventually became mrbeast and ultimately blew up on youtube, your relationship never changed. You just showed up in the videos now alongside your other childhood friends. You couldn’t imagine a more fun time in your life. You spent practically every day with your best friends making youtube videos while you worked on school. How could it get better? 

“Hey hoe,” you greet getting into Jimmy’s car. 

“That’s how you greet your boyfriend who drives you everywhere?” 

“Someone is sassy today,” you comment, pulling your seatbelt over you as Jimmy pulls out of your driveway. 

“I’m just saying you’re gonna have to get your license eventually.” 

It was true, you were almost 22 with no license which was entirely more embarrassing than you’d like to admit. However, in high school, your parents didn’t put much emphasis on getting a license and as you grew older, you had a bit of anxiety about driving. The whole thing made you anxious, thinking about how you could control a two-ton car and anything could happen. Whether that be to you or someone else it didn’t matter. 

You look over at Jimmy and he offers a sincere smile and you cave looking at it. While you and Jimmy had been best friends since childhood, you had only been dating for about six months now. However, every time you looked at him, your heart jumped just like the first time. 

“You’re right. I’m just nervous is all,” you admit. 

“Well, when you do get your license you have to drive to my house first.” 

“(y/n/n)?” Chandler asks bringing you back to the present. 

Your eyes snap back to him, trying to immediately focus on the present and what was happening now. 

“Yeah sorry,” you say looking back up at him. “You’ll be the first person I drive around when I get my license I promise.” 

Chandler smiles widely at this, giving your leg a squeeze before standing. He presses a kiss to your forehead, telling you that he’s excited to see you drive up tomorrow. When he’s gone, you crawl back under the covers and heave a sigh of relief. 

You snuggle deep into the covers, excited to movie marathon with your favorite marvel movies and no work to plague your mind. You press play on The First Avenger. You sigh happily as the warmth of the blankets sink into your being.

"Darling!" you hear someone call your name and prop your head up to see Jimmy walking through the door.

He heads straight for you, crawling into bed next to you causing your smile to widen. Jimmy throws an arm over your stomach before pressing his head into your neck. He presses a kiss there and you giggle lightly. 

You turn your attention back to the movie, lifting a hand to card through Jimmy's hair as the movie starts to get interesting. Jimmy’s breathing slowly deepens as you continue your slow movements. Before he’s completely knocked out, he sits up leaning on his elbow to look up at you. 

“Baby?” he asks quietly. 

“Hm?” you hum in response. 

“Can we go on a drive?” 

You look down at your sleepy boyfriend wondering how he’s going to be able to operate a vehicle in his current state but nod anyway. At your answer, a sudden burst of energy pushes forth and he’s up in an instant and dragging you along with him. 

You both throw on shoes and you steal one of his hoodies before heading out to his car. Late-night drives weren’t uncommon ever since Jimmy got his license. However, you always felt bad since Jimmy was always the one driving. He insisted he didn’t mind though, always smiling that signature tooth-filled smile when he pulled up to your house. 

Once in the car, Jimmy wastes no time resting his hand on your thigh and running slow circles there as you flip through your music choices. The movements calm you, sending you into a state of bliss, one impossible without Jimmy. 

You sing along to the music quietly as you pass through the suburbs of North Carolina and let the scenery around you fill you up. Each house you pass could be yours and Jimmy’s in the future, every car and front yard had a future with Jimmy in it. 

“Hey,” Jimmy says, catching your attention. 

You turn to look at him and he’s quick to press a kiss to your lips at a stop sign making you smile widely. 

“You know, when you get your license, I’m gonna buy you a car.” 

“Jimmy,” you sigh and he giggles. 

“And, when you get your license and your new car we’re gonna go on even more drives and you’ll be at my house all the time and it’s gonna be great,” he insists, now taking your hand in his and moving it around as he talks. 

“Okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. 

“Okay, my love.” 

The next day you wake up early, out of anxious nerves for your driver’s test later. As you slowly get ready, you decide to call Chandler to see what he’s up to. The phone rings twice before Chandler’s familiar accent greets you.

“Hey, whatcha doing today?” you ask, now wandering around your house as you talk. 

 “Uhh,” he hesitates and you can tell he doesn’t want to tell you what he’s doing. 

“It’s fine if you’re with Jimmy, Chan. He’s your best friend too,” you reassure him. 

“Uh yeah, I’m with him. We’re filming videos together today.” 

You relax in bed, book in hand as you pull the covers up to get comfortable. Just as you flip to the page you’re on and scan the words, your phone rings. You sigh quietly, grabbing your phone and answering it without looking. 

“Yeah?” you question knowing only family or close friends call you anymore. 

“Hey, it’s me. Come outside,” Chandler’s familiar voice greets you. 

“Come on Chan I just got comfy,” you pout getting up anyway. 

“Get comfy later alright I’ll see you in a sec.” 

You get up, throwing on shoes and a jacket before heading out of the house. You hop in Chandler’s car, giving him a tired look which he returns with a smile. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“You’ll see.” 

The two of you drive for a while, and you realize you’re headed towards Chris’ house. You’re about to ask what’s going on but when you see Jimmy out front you have a sneaking suspicion there’s a video behind it. 

“Hi love,” Jimmy greets, camera in hand when you two pull up. 

“Hi,” you greet wearily. 

“Do you know what’s going on?” 

“Not a clue,” you say with a slight laugh. 

“Come on I’ll show you.” 

You get out of the car and Jimmy takes your hand in his. He leads you towards Chris’ house and you’re now extremely spectacle of what’s going on. 

“So, you know how valentine’s day was a little while ago right?” Jimmy asks as you walk up the porch steps. 

“I got you a surprise. What do you think it is?” 

“I’m hoping for flowers and food?” 

“Well you actually got one part right,” he says. 

Jimmy steps behind you and tells you to open the door. You cautiously place your hand on the doorknob before swinging it open to see what looks like a million roses surrounding the house, and Chris standing in the middle yelling surprise. 

“Wait Jimmy,” you say instantly turning back and running towards your boyfriend. You hug him tightly and he presses a kiss to your head before pushing you lightly back towards the house. 

“What is this?” you ask stepping further into the room. 

“I bought you 100,000 roses,” Jimmy announces now smiling widely, his cheeks going pink. 

“Honey,” you say rushing back over to him and circling your arms around his neck. He hugs you back, pressing another kiss to the side of your head before you let go and look at the place once more. 

“(y/n)?” you hear Chandler calling you and you’re snapped back to reality once more. 

“Yeah sorry, what was your question?” 

“What time is your driver’s test today?” 

“Around one.”

“You got this darlin.”

You take Chandler’s confident words with you to the DMV and try to settle your nerves the entire time you’re there. You also try to push away every time Jimmy told you that you would get your license. That he believed in you and that on a day like this you would be driving home to him. 

As the workers tell you it’ll be another fifteen minutes you can’t help the onslaught of memories that brought yours and Jimmy’s relationship to a screeching halt. 

“Jimmy?” you call through the expansive warehouse. 

You barely take two steps in before you’re greeted by a slightly flustered Jimmy. You look over your boyfriend, his cheeks and neck flushed red and an uncomfortable smile grace his features. 

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” he states trying to block you from whatever video he was filming. 

“I caught an uber to surprise you. Everything okay?” you step around him unable to contain your anxious eyes when you see what he’s hiding. 

He was setting up some date or what you were hoping was a prank, and at the center of it all was a random girl you had never seen before. 

Your eyes had trailed back and forth between her, the set, and Jimmy and before anyone could say a single word you took off. 

You knew Jimmy had been talking to some random girl for a while at that time. You weren’t possessive over your boyfriend and figured she was a friend, that’s it. But walking on that set felt like Jimmy had taken your heart and smashed it on a table for millions of people to see. 

You had trusted him with everything, and he had betrayed you. He was your motivation for what you were doing right now, overcoming your fear and getting your driver’s license. And in the end, it all meant nothing to him.

You try to shake yourself out of the feeling when the DMV worker walks up to you and at this point, you’re back to a bundle of nerves. You take a couple of deep breaths before following him outside and to your car, hoping against hope you pass. 

“Hey what are you doing in like an hour?” 

“Uh, nothing I’ll be at my house why?” Chandler asks. 

“Cause I wanna drive over,” you say, unable to contain the excitement about finally getting your driver's license. 

“Darlin that’s amazing!!” Chandler cheers excitedly. 

“So I’ll see you in an hour?” 

After hanging up with Chandler and dropping your roommate off at home after getting back from the DMV, you borrow the car and decide to drive around. 

You head off, just wanting to drive and think for a while, and not knowing where you’re going you end up driving the same route Jimmy used to take when you drove around together. 

As you drive, your mind wanders to every drive you took with him and your heart wrenches passing every familiar house and street. You could still hear his giggle when you’d point out houses you wanted to live in together in the future. 

The feeling of his lips on yours whenever he paused at a stop sign or stoplight. His hand tracing your thigh or pressed into your hand, your palms lining up like they were made for each other. 

And every car that looks just like his is him in your mind. And you can still see him, see the both of you laughing and smiling like nothing else mattered in the world. That if you stayed there forever you would be safe. And maybe you should have. 

Subconsciously, the street names start to look familiar and as you keep driving you realize where you’re headed and a faint sob catches in the back of your throat. The street name, his street name appears and you’re sobbing uncontrollably as you drive wishing he was next to you. 

This day was supposed to be one of the best of your life. But it was also supposed to have Jimmy in it. He was supposed to be next to you. You were supposed to head to his house first and drive around and return the millions of rides he gave you since you two were sixteen. 

And now as you pass by his street a piece of you feels like it’s missing. And you don’t know if it’s going to come back. Not only did you lose your soulmate, but your best friend. 

You keep driving and eventually end up at Chandler’s house. He sits outside waiting for you excitedly, and the sight makes you crack a smile through the onslaught of tears. But, when you get out of the car his smile dims. 

"I miss him, Chan," you cry, throwing your arms around his shoulders. 

"I know baby girl. I know," he responds and you sob quietly as he holds you tight.

[7-wonders]

In Which You're Worried That Michael Might Actually Eat You

To say it had been a long week would be an understatement. No, it had been the week to end all weeks, a long week packed with terrible, horrible, no good, very bad things. After Dumb and Dumber (or Jeff and Mutt, depending on who you asked) having left their lab a ticking time bomb for you to discover, your vampiric boss rescuing you after you were trapped under burning debris and, as you later learned from Michael creepily telling you, suffering from internal bleeding would have been enough to call the week a wash. But no, you just had to have some weird link with said vampire now that his blood was stuck in you after he just had to keep you from dying. And of course, you had nobody to talk to about this, since any sane person would have you locked up after hearing what you had gone through.

So when Friday night rolls around and your friends ask you if you want to hit up the bars downtown with them, you're certainly not going to turn them down like you usually do. Now, after a few shots, a couple of mixed drinks, two games of pool, some dancing, and lots of bad singing with your friends, it's last call and bars are emptying out for the night. You lean against one of your friends as the group tries to figure out the price of an Uber for everybody to share.

"I should be fine to walk home, actually, I'm only a couple of blocks away from my place," you realize.

"Are you sure? It's late, and you were drinking," your friend frowns.

"I'm only a little buzzed! And I have this." You grab your keys out of your bag, complete with pepper spray and a shank that honestly makes a really cute accessory (and it's in your favorite color!).

"Okay," he says, not convinced. "Text the group chat when you make it home, though."

"Of course I will." After hugs and goodbyes, you turn to walk.

"Hey!" You look back in confusion. "Let me see that you're prepared for anything." Wordlessly, you hold up the shank between your fingers, thumb on the pepper spray trigger. "That's a bad bitch if I've ever seen one."

The buzz from the alcohol still lingers as you begin your quick trip home, but the fresh air is already doing wonders to sober you up the rest of the way. The sky is clear tonight, and you wish you weren't in the city so you could see the stars. Maybe it's this desire that's keeping your head up and not ahead of you, or the buzz making your balance just a little bit off. Whatever the reason, you trip over nothing but the sidewalk.

You pout when you look down at your knee, seeing that the fall tore your jeans and skinned your knee. It always seems to be the smallest injuries that bleed the most, and this is no different. You use the ripped fabric to try and dab up enough blood that it won't look like you're an extra from a horror movie. Once you're satisfied enough, you haul yourself back to your feet and look to see your building just a few yards away.

Even without the added hindrances, it would have been impossible for you to hear the inaudible growl coming from above you. The point of a vampire having enhanced abilities is so that their prey isn't alerted. By the time you feel a gust of wind behind you and are yanked backwards, it's been maybe 30 seconds since you tripped.

Whatever force has you in their grasp makes you fall to the ground yet again, their grip around your ankle as they drag you backwards into the alley. Your hands scramble across the sidewalk, trying desperately to find purchase in anything that's acting as an edge, but nothing sticks. Your ankle is free for just a moment, long enough for you to shove yourself to your feet and fumble for the pepper spray on the keychain wrapped around your list. You point it towards the general outline of your attacker, spraying it around until you're sure you've hit their eyes.

Unfortunately, that doesn't work. The growls get louder, and you're slammed up against the stone wall. You thrust the shank forward, hoping to find skin, but a hand wraps around your wrist and pins it next to your head.

"Just when I thought my pursuit of a meal was futile tonight, you just happened to stumble into my path. I'd consider that fate."

Your blood runs cold when you realize that you know this voice. Fumbling for your phone, you manage to turn the flashlight on before it's knocked out of your hand. The light is enough to illuminate what's in front of you though, and to confirm your suspicions. Michael looks absolutely feral right now, panting as if he hasn't eaten in days. By the faraway look in his blood-red eyes, he probably hasn't. You can tell that he's not even looking at you, not even realizing that it's you who stands in front of him.

"Michael," you mutter, feeling actual fear now as he starts to get closer to your neck. "Michael, please, it's me."

"Mmm, I'm going to make you say my name with your dying breath."

"Michael! You said you couldn't kill me, remember? That you can feel my emotions now that your blood is in me? You have to feel how scared I am right now."

He can't even hear what you're saying right now, the sound of your blood pumping overpowering any other sound in his vicinity. He's completely lost in the scent and the sound of your blood, so captivating to him in a way that's never happened before. You yelp when his fangs pierce your neck, tears beginning to fall.

"No, no, no!" In one last, fleeting attempt before you're drained, you knee him right in the groin. If there's one thing that affects all men, regardless of their supernatural status, it's being hit in the dick.

Michael releases you from between his jaws, stumbling back as he groans in pain. You slap your hand over your neck, a sob ripping from your chest when he looks at you, his eyes a crystal blue once more.

"(Y/N)," Michael says in disbelief, "(Y/N), I didn't know it was you."

"I was saying your name and telling you to stop!" you cry out.

"I-I don't, I didn't hear...didn't see...I've never lost control like that."

You don't stick around to hear the rest of his explanation, barely waiting until you can grab all of your belongings before you're running to your apartment. Michael wants to run after you, but he knows that he's already scared you enough for one night. Plus, he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't also a little frightened by what transpired. Never has anything like that happened to him. Being consumed by anger or hate, that's familiar to him. But the scent of one human's blood causing him to lose himself? He's not sure how that happened, especially with his blood running through you.

He'll give you some time to calm down before he comes knocking on your door, if only to make sure that you don't die of fright tonight. For now, he'll wait. Even if he won't admit it, he truly doesn't want to see you scared. Even though that did make your blood gush deliciously into his mouth...Michael licks his lips, moaning as the taste of you hits his tongue.

//

bby tag list: @michaellangdon @hecohansen31 @xavierplympton @blakescoven @guiltyfiend @mrslandgonn

[leverage-commentary]

Leverage Season 2, Episode 15, The Maltese Falcon Job, Audio Commentary Transcript

Dean: Hi I'm Dean Devlin, Executive Producer and Director of this episode.

John: I'm John Rogers, Executive producer and Writer.

Chris: I'm Chris Downey, Executive Producer, and this is the Maltese Falcon Job. Part two of our season two finale.

John: And this is a lot of fun, this was- this was born of an episode we never wrote. Just- we really wanted to just put them on their pins.

Chris: Right.

John: Just really knock them on their ass and so- were you handheld there? Handheld whenever there's a problem, right?

Dean: Well this is actually a 360 steadicam. And what we're trying to do is let- their entire world is spinning out of control, so we just wanted this just to keep spinning around. They don't know where they're gonna land.

John: This is a fast, hard reset. The second- the second half of the season finale last year, we kinda eased into it, we reset the locations.

Dean: Here we throw you right into it.

Chris: Right.

John: Yeah, you best be paying attention and you really see when, you know- they're the uber team. You know, you really need to put them onto the wall, and the FBI and Interpol in this situation, they're utterly lost. And Interpol, it was interesting, it was something we were saying last- cause it was Mark Sheppard credit in the last episode. We were looking for a villain, and the problem is we kept coming up with this recurring, separate villain. We’re like, ‘We've never met this person before, we don't care. The person you really want it to be is Sterling! But he's an investigator.’

Chris: ‘He's an insurance investigator, what does that have to do with insurance? We have to find a way to make this about insurance?’

John: Oh man, we killed ourselves.

Dean: Do you remember what you said John? The night-?

Chris: It was between you two, right?

John: It was us. I Skyped you at like 11 o’clock at night, you had come back from scouting-

Dean: And we were talking, and the idea came up, ‘What if we just made him interpol?’ Do you remember what you said?

John: No.

Dean: You said, ‘We are either coming up with the best idea we’ve ever come up with, or we’re both reall,y really tired right now.’

[Laughter]

Chris: And it was.

John: It was great.

Chris: As soon as I heard it, I said, ‘That’s a great idea.’ Because we needed to give him a wider mandate.

John: Yes, if we're gonna keep them as a recurring bad guy-

Chris: Great idea.

John: And what was great is, we already shot the episode that he was in before, so we had to go back and reshoot that ending.

Dean: Here's my favorite Tara bit, of her whole arc.

John: Oh, that's right.

Dean: And this man was actually our local assistant.

[Laughter]

Chris: That was AJ.

John: Yes. And a fine actor by the way.

Dean: He did a great job.

Chris: Oh look at this shot, look at this.

John: Look at just the look he's doing. Just a good 1960s Zero Mostel take there. Yeah, ‘Oops.’

[Laughter]

Chris: Mrs. Robinson.

Dean: Comedy frame.

John: Comedy frame. We got like nine takes of Christian reacting to that by the way.

Dean: And my favorite is they both originally put their heads back, and then only Christian’s head came back out again, but we didn't have time for that. 

Chris: Oh I love that.

John: We can't break for comedy too much here, cause you've got the momentum going. 

Dean: Yeah.

John: And you're like, you have to keep resetting - they are in trouble. This, by the way, great hack taught to us by Apollo Robbins.

Chris: Yes.

John: Our thief consultant took us through how you can get access to the hotel computer system through the back of your television.

Chris: Yes.

John: This is a real thing. Please don’t-

Dean: Please don't try this at home.

Chris: Please don’t try this.

John: Don't try this at home, but most hotels have internet enabled televisions now, and that allows you a backdoor into the- 

Chris: It's a good example, too, of our team is so good at what they do, that we always try and look for ways to take away all their tools and find a clever way they have to use whatever's around them to-

John: Yeah

Chris: -you know, get their information.

John: Yeah, and that's again, constrained in time, constrained in space.

Dean: And that little porno name here, we had to get clearance on. 

John: I know. We came up with so many pornos that were real. That we came up with the most ridiculous porno name, ‘Nope that's a real one, that’s a real one.’ What did we land with, Indie Panties Day?

[Laughter]

John: Yeah, there's also- I wonder if we got it on the DVD, a really creepy, awkward beat after they’ve watched the porno that Aldis and Beth did, just very. 

Chris: That's a nice little viral video.

John: Yeah we’ll have to find that. 

Dean: Yeah.

John: Oh, and a beautiful three way pass, by the way. That was a tough shot, you know, in a crowded-

Dean: And it's a callback from the Zanzibar Job. 

John: Yes.

Dean: Where they did a similar three way.

John: Yeah. 

Dean: And I love this local actor.

John: Oh man, he's fantastic.

Dean: Harold rocked it.

John: ‘Yes, it was delicious.’ Yeah no, Eliot's impatience. This, by the way- getting a hotel key without your ID, I was a little fuzzy on whether it would work or not. I had written it, and I was like ‘Ah, am I kinda cheating?’ So I went to a hotel and did it. 

[Laughter]

John: Two days before we actually did this.

Chris: You did?

John: Yes. I won't tell you what hotel because they shouldn't have done it, but I got a hotel room key that way.

Chris: That's great.

John: Yeah. It's amazing what you can do if you have no fear of prosecution.

[Laughter]

John: ‘Oh, I'm doing a television show.’ And this was tough. We had to split them up, we had to figure out what the geography was- oh he hates Sterling so much.

[Laughter]

John: And Mark Sheppard just teeing off, just- 

Dean: Mark is delicious in this part, man. 

John: Yes.

Dean: I'm telling you, I could just watch him play this guy all day long.

John: Yeah, and what's great is Richard Kind, kind of, really kind of justifying, really doing the evil speech of evil, ‘He's a good mayor.’

Chris: Yeah.

John: And he was the one who came up with, ‘I’m good for Bellbridge.’

Chris: ‘I was good for Bellbridge.’

John:  ‘I'm- no matter what I did, I did my job, you know.’

Chris: I like, too, that we have Nate and the mayor both- 

John: Both drinking.

Chris: Both drinking.

Dean: Yeah.

John: I think that was on the day we came up with that, where Nate would get the booze from. 

Dean: Right.

John: Same place. I think we were just- cause this is the same hotel room. That was the fun of this episode, it was figuring out all the identical space- the fact that all hotel rooms are identical.

Chris: Right.

John: And that we suddenly realized, ‘Wait that means we can shoot in one and just redress.’ This is a long ass speech, this was a tough day.

Dean: And again done in a one-er.

John: Yes.

Dean: So the degree of difficulty for poor Mark was very, very high, but he knocked it out again.

John: He's really abused in television. Cause I will tell you right now, a lot of show runners will be like, ‘I have two and a half of impossible bullshit, get me Mark Sheppard in here.’

Dean: Right.

Chris: He's- I think he went from here, he was- he did the- I guess that three part CSI-

John: Yeah.

Chris: Where they had all the CSIs in one link and he was the bad guy in that, and he works.

John: He's a great- he really in that British actor tradition, yeah. 

Chris: Yeah.

John: And this- this bio of this arms dealer is pretty much just a bio of an arms dealer we took. I'm not gonna tell you who, because it was Chris’s idea and if you're angry, you should take your vengeance on him and his family.

[Laughter]

John: And not me, I am a big fan of arms dealers.

Chris: Paul Blackthorne, great- what is he-?

John: Well he had done Dresden Files, I knew him from that. 

Chris: Dresden Files.

John: But he's, you know, nailed the accent, and he's also really tall, he's got a physically imposing presence. 

Chris: Yeah.

John: And Tim’s tall, and it's really hard sometimes, to find the villains that can kind of, you know. And this was a great scene, and really one of the few times that the team lays into Nate. And I like, by the way, Nate’s getting more and more rumpled. Everyone else is kind of pulling it together, and he's just getting rougher and rougher looking.

Chris: Didn’t we have some weather here?

Dean: On the outtakes reel that's actually on this DVD, you'll see some funny outtakes from this scene.

Chris: With the weather right?

Dean: With the weather and Tim’s hair.

[Laughter]

Chris: Oh wow.

John: Oh right, even Chris is having a problem here and he's in a ponytail. Yeah the wind- the whole day we were shooting this we had thunderstorms coming through. 

Dean: Right.

John: So we were literally, ‘It's sunny. Go, go, go!’ And running down and getting the exteriors, yeah. 

Chris: Yeah.

John: Yeah we banged this out fast, man.

Dean: And yet they really nailed it. Again, when our actors dig in, they find gold.

John: And this was a big moment, this was- this is something I think that people sometimes ask, ‘Why does Eliot do this?’ Eliot has made himself a promise, this is his job, he will keep them safe.

Chris: Right.

Dean: And Nate realizes-

John: That's all he has.

Dean: Nate realizes for the first time he's actually let his team down.

John: Yeah.

Dean: And now he feels like he has to make it up to them.

John: Well, you know, when Parker does it. 

Dean: Yeah.

John: I mean that's the thing, Parker never gives- expresses- she’ll tease, she’ll express sarcasm, but disappointment- you know, ‘Be the person we came back for.’ She's referencing the season opener.

Dean: Right.

John: And that's the problem, is addiction- he's allowed himself to be- he's no longer the guy who used to chase them.

[Silence]

John: That's me drinking my Guinness, don't mind me.

[Laughter]

John: Oh god. What would I do without booze? 

Dean: So now we come back to the hotel.

John: Was that on mic? Alright.

[Laughter]

John: So we’re back on the hotel. 

Dean: And again, our clue from the previous episode of the Maltese Falcon.

Chris: Really key to watch these two back to back folks.

Dean: Oh, now this is-

Chris: I mean, maybe get a sandwich, but don't do much more than that.

Dean: This, I think, is one of my favorite bullet time shots that we've ever done. 

John: This was not as- not quite as insane as- and America thanks you for Beth in the French maid outfit.

Chris: The french maid.

Dean: It’s after this gag.

John: Yeah. Not quite as insane as the- by the way, this moment is based on a comedy club in Winnipeg, when- where the comics would go perform, it was a contest amongst them to see how long they could go without leaving the hotel room, and without letting the maids in.

[Laughter]

Chris: Cause there was no-

John: There was nothing to do. 

Chris: Nothing to do.

John: So it was like, ‘I went 40- I went 72 hours; the maids left the towels at the door.’

Dean: Great passing out scene.

Chris: Oh there we go.

John: That man is passed out. And that looks like my bed in every stand up club I ever went at.

Dean: This was the bullet- this was a very complicated bullet time shot.

John: Is this as bad or worse than the pilot, where you did four different directions?

Dean: No, it's not as bad as the pilot, but the timing of it is hard because of the extras and the switching of directions.

John: Yeah. So we start with one-

Dean: And we were using a different steadicam artist who had never done this before. 

John: Oh, that’s right.

Dean: So we had to teach Norbert how to do it while we were doing it.

Chris: Oh, that's right. 

Dean: It was very tough.

Chris: Cause our camera guy had a-

Dean: It was the one day Gary Camp was actually sick.

John: Yeah.

Chris: His tooth exploded or something.

John: Yeah, and he still showed up for work, by the way. 

Chris: He did.

John: With a face that looked like somebody had worked him over with a bat.

Dean: Now originally you had a much more complicated gag to stall, and then you came up with this gag, and we were on the floor laughing.

Chris: Yeah, this is funny.

John: You said, you were like, ‘I can't shoot that gag, all I have is the elevator’ I was like ‘Alright, well we’ll do this.’ And it's funny cause it was really a throwaway, and then the more we talked about it, the funnier it got.

Dean: Yeah.

John: As you realize it's just comedy beat, after comedy beat, after comedy beat. Also: Mark Sheppard.

Dean: Yeah.

Chris: Mark Sheppard does the- he takes you through the- 

John: The fives stages of death and dying.

Chris: The array of reactions.

Dean: This is-

Chris: Puts on a [unintelligible].

John: And by the way- same elevator, we’re just changing the floor number on every shot.

Dean: And the plants.

John: And the plants.

[Laughter]

John: So yes. And we- but we did run Tim up the stairs a lot that day.

Chris: We did.

Dean: I'll tell you this may be my- the funniest gag we've ever done.

John: Just cause both actors- oh this- just the seething.

Dean: The rage.

John: And both actors kind of really digging in on it.

[Laughter]

Chris: Oh.

John: And then... 

Chris: Just kidding this right on his reel, this is all the different, kind of, reaction to it.

John: And I like, he's almost too tired to keep doing it. And up.

Dean: But what sells the whole gag for me is this last one. Because at this point now they've done everything they can, and they just don't care anymore.

[Laughter]

John: They're just. 

Dean: They're done.

John: They’re done, they’re just exhausted. And now- now Nate can give up. Yeah, he's bought them enough time to do what they need to do. And also this was a nice beat, cause Mark made a point of it, it's like if he just had one more second he would've figured it out.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: Right.

John: You know you can never- Sterling- you always have to play fair with him. 

Dean: Right.

John: You know he's always this close to figuring it out. These guys were great as the vaguely resentful FBI agents. 

Dean: Exactly.

John: Because he's very insulting. And a timing joke. Mark carries a lot in this episode.

Chris: Door- door closed, there you go, door closes, door opens.

Dean: Mark had his work cut out for him this episode.

John: Door opens. ‘Hey, Bob.’ Yeah, these two had a lot of fun. There’s about 900 different takes of this. And oh this was tricky, because when we got up there, we were shooting on the top floor, but that meant we couldn't double the corridor.

Dean: That’s right.

John: Because we had the skylights.

Chris: Oh, hm.

Dean: So we had to find other corridors. 

John: Yeah, and sometimes people were sleeping, sorry about that.

Dean: This is a very simple bullet time shot, but a very effective one, I think.

John: Yeah, the big reveal.

Dean: Just the, ‘viola.’

John: And you're out.

Chris: How did they do that?

John: A lot of fun. And a wink, which would distract any normal human. And this is- I'm trying to remember where we came up with this bit. Oh the carts were brutal, trying to find the cart we could put a dude in.

Chris: Oh yeah.

Dean: But this bit here is a call back to the episode with the kids-

John: Yes. Yeah That's right- where Hardison and- 

Dean: Cannot rappel.

Chris: That’s just great.

John: Rappelling just does not fit well, he's just not left as- and by the way, it really- real risk of Aldis Hodge strangling there. Sorry about that, Aldis. 

[Laughter]

John: And he's figured it out. Yeah and that was a lot of fun. Nashua, New Hampshire, near where my sister lives, by the way.

Chris: Right that's where they're sending it.

John: That's actually where they are sending it- they're sending that trunk to my sister’s front lawn. What little I can do. And this is- what's fun is that we- the camera work is very energized, the game's afoot, and the second half- it’s interesting, the two previous seasons, the two episodes both had their own internal structure. This really just plays as a movie because all the set up is the first half.

Chris: Yes.

John: This entire episode is the rock that's been pushed down the hill, and we’re just chasing it.

Chris: And everything is paying off.

John: Yeah. And again, drawn from my experience in standup years, all the hotel rooms look alike. If you were to wake me up in any random hotel room, I woke up and my trash was there, I'd assume that that was my room.

Chris: Sure. I mean as any business traveller can tell you, they'll wake up and not know what city they're in.

John: And Richard Kind, by the way- poor Richard Kind spent a week in that bathrobe. 

Dean: Yeah.

John: On docks, on oil tankers, in hotel rooms.

Chris: Yeah, it’s true.

John: That was- he formed a very unhealthy relationship with that bathrobe.

Dean: And had to be in the bathrobe the whole time.

John: Yeah. This is my favorite bit- they're just the type of people who cut up people in tubs, that's their job.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: But this little look of Eliot's right there tells you everything.

Chris: ‘Alright, I'm gonna cut her up.’

John: ‘Alright, this is my day.’ Aldis’s character Mr. Joshua, of course, named after the Gary Busey character from- 

Chris: Lethal Weapon.

John: Lethal Weapon. If we need a killer's name, why not-?

Dean: Go to the best.

John: Why not reference the best? Bunch of different versions of this. And I love them playing good cop, bad cop. But it was interesting, we had a version of this speech- and I will give this up to you as director, that explained everything. And you really looked at it and said, ‘Alright, here's the actual three things we need for this to make sense.’ Cause as the writer you never know, but you come at it from a storyteller like, ‘Here are the points the audience needs to be emotionally engaged to move forward.’

Dean: And it was a tough call, because Richard did such an amazing job with this speech. 

John: Yes.

Dean: You almost didn't want to lose anything. But, you know, we have time that we have to come in at the end of the show, and we needed to lose some time, so we really boiled it down.

Chris: Oh was this something that came out in editing? Or in-?

John: Yeah.

Chris: Oh it did, I didn't even notice.

John: You didn't notice, exactly. 

Chris: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

John: The speech was about twice as long. Because really there's a whole mini scene between Richard and Tim there. 

Dean: Right.

John: And it really was- you know, you got it, he's bargaining for his life. That’s all you need to know.

Dean: And Richard is so knocking it out, you're actually learning a lot more with even less.

John: Yeah. His relationship through his attitude. No, there are times- even a writer would admit-

Dean: And that's all real sweat, by the way, no sweat bottle came in there; he earned each drop.

John: Boom. I like Aldis’ vague resentment at not being allowed to punch the guy.

Chris: Yeah.

John: Because again, everyone has their niche. And also the great expression Beth chooses there. ‘Eh, I've been in the tub waiting while you beat up a mayor. I'm out now.’

[Laughter]

John: ‘What are we doing next?’

Chris: Yeah, completely blank affect.

John: Yeah, exactly.

Dean: Day at the office.

John: Yeah.

Dean: But the subtle look of feeling like she's on a sinking ship. 

John: Yeah.

Dean: That we get out of Tara at the end of this scene, is really very great for setting up the turn.

John: And even- It's interesting, to watch Chris choose- Aldis is having basically Hardison question dad, while Eliot is instead watching the interplay between the two of them to see how Nate treats Hardison. 

Dean: Right.

John: Knowing that's the better indicator of what the relationship is. He does a similar thing in 207, actually, between he and Sophie- between Gina, with the bomb scene. 

Dean: Right, right. 

John: Yeah.

Dean: And then here we drop our red herring. Has Tara jumped the shark?

John: For a minute or half we considered doing it. For a minute and a half, what would- the problem was, it's Jeri Ryan, and you like her and you're hanging out with her and working with her and it was like, ‘Nah, I don't want the- I like the character.’

Chris: Well it sets up the- the act where it all pays off is one of my favorite acts we’ve done.

John: It’s one of my favorite bits ever. This, by the way, it seems like it's just an act break, it's horrible. Sterling has used his- the fact he used to be best friends with Nate Ford, to know that he is going to use his child’s- dead child's art to trap him.

Chris: Yeah.

John: This is a moment that was kind of thrown away, and the two actors, I saw them actually talking about it on set and they really dug in on it.

Chris: Yeah.

John: It's like, that is a horrible moment. You know, because he knows he won't leave town without that, and Sterling is the only man on earth who knows he won't leave town without that. 

Chris: Right.

John: Yeah. And it's one of the few times we’re behind the desk there.

Dean: Yeah.

John: Yeah. It's a weird place to shoot; it's just got that picture behind it, it's just trough to frame

Dean: But we wanted to get there and we found a place. Now this scene is unusual in that we've gone now to our handheld, which we do when our characters are either in physical or emotional jeopardy. But unlike other scenes, we went musicless here.

John: Yes.

Dean: Because the performances were so strong and so right on-

Chris: Oh that’s great.

Dean: -we didn't want to tell the audience what to feel. Just- we just wanted them to feel it.

John: Also in the tradition, that's the same glass.

Dean: Yeah.

John: Nate and- 

Chris: Oh that's the same glass from- from Nate in-

Dean: Season 1.

Chris: Season 1. That’s great.

John: Nate and Sterling have one glass they pass back and forth between each other depending on who’s winning.

Chris: That's great.

Dean: Right.

John: And the fact he's brought it to give it to him is sort of a signature of the deal they're falling into. And again, by the way, the idea that you would protect a witness that might’ve killed a cop. When you do the research? Oh man. This was kind of the Whitey Bulger thing in costic.

Chris: Well I mean, you know, we- it gave us a chance to explore- it was a whole different episode from the point of view of the FBI. 

John: Yeah.

Chris: About the compromises that people make when they get confidential, you know- 

John: Informants.

Chris: Cooperating witnesses, of looking the other way of other things they're doing. All they are focused on is their case.

John: That mayor is giving them 20 good busts.

Chris: Yeah, yeah.

John: They're not going to follow rumors. Also Mark Sheppard is a- man, this is a great scene. There's two versions of this scene. This is the one we used, the one I like. One where he's angry and superior, and one where he's genuinely hurt that Nate Ford had become this man. 

Dean: Yeah.

John: That he's genuinely hurt he has to offer him this deal. And this is the take we used. 

Chris: Yeah.

John: Which was an oddly vulnerable moment for that character. He doesn't want to be here, he doesn't want to be giving him this offer. Wow, this is all close up, too, which we almost never do.

Dean: Yeah. But this is- there's a lot of things that we did in this two part season finale that we don't normally do, that were out of the box, but necessary, it was very interesting.

John: Yeah, and this is him telling him this is his last chance. No, and- I always wonder- I gotta- I need to ask Tim when does- cause I know Tim in his head knows when Nate makes the decision what he's gonna do. Is it here or is it after the phone call? Is it after the phone call?

Dean: I think it's after the phone call.

John: Yeah. But there's alot going on.

Dean: But the twist here was cause Nate always is two steps ahead. Until he said, ‘And my team,’ and the guy- and he says, ‘No, just you.’ And there's a look on his face and it's one- it’s again, a rare vulnerable moment for Nate where he didn’t see that one coming. 

John: Yeah. And loses his hand and it's like, you know.

Dean: Again, getting to shoot at the actual docks was fantastic.

John: Except we can't shoot past her right shoulder, cause there was a navy ship there that we started to shoot, and the nice gentlemen came over and told us not to put that on camera, please.

Dean: That’s right.

Chris: Oh really?

John: Yeah.

Chris: Wow.

John: Yeah.

Dean: And briny despair may be my favorite Parker line.

John: Briny despair, old clowns.

Chris: Old clown shoes.

John: Briny despair. And again, there's a mini arc here, and the actresses are very good friends, and they're really found it, of their developing physical friendship and, like, just the fact that she can be- Parker’s physical character, and so the fact she’ll walk in pace with Tara is a big deal.

Dean: And now we've brought back Sophie.

John: There you go.

Dean: First time we haven't seen her on a monitor this season.

John: Exactly.

Chris: And here's the payoff from the scene in-

Dean: 207.

Chris: Well part one also, this-

Dean: But we set up really at the- 

Chris: We did, you're right.

Dean: At the- The Two Live Crew Job that she was going off to find herself. 

John: Yeah.

Chris: Right.

Dean: And then in the next episode, when he tried to bring her back, she says, ‘Do you want me back for the team, or for you?’ 

Chris: Right, right.

Dean: And now he calls that back and says, ‘Not for the team, for me.’

Chris: Right, right.

Dean: ‘I need you back.’

John: It was also subtle, but we've shown her in conveyance in a lot of the other shots when she's away, so you won't be tipped off by the fact that she's in a conveyance. That she's in transport.

Chris: That she's in a helicopter.

John: She's in transit, she’s in a helicopter. We've shown her in cars, she’s done the cell phone in different locations. 

Chris: Yeah, yeah, that’s true.

John: So hopefully you were not like ‘Oh, why are we seeing her in a different context?’ 

Chris: Right.

John: We've seen her in this context before. Now this was- man, this was a great day, this was just- we cleared the set and Tim just parked his ass on the floor. 

Dean: We did three takes, but this is actually his first take. He so nailed it on the first take.

John: Oh, really?

Dean: That the others were really just for safety. But he just came in there, ready to do this part.

John: Yeah. And this is- you know.

Dean: And then the tragedy that she didn't hear any of it. 

John: Yeah.

Chris: It's one of the great things about cell phones. Is that- from a dramatic standpoint- I mean they help you bring characters together, but you can also use them to- 

Dean: Separate them.

Chris: To separate them.

John: Never in 1940s comedy is or 1940s movie is like, ‘Pennsylvania 927: Oh the killer is-!’ ‘Oh I lost him.’

Chris: ‘The line went dead!’

John: ‘The line went dead!’ ‘No sir, the line’s not dead, I'll reconnect you right away.’ Thank you operator.’

Dean: But his feeling of betrayal at losing the connection.

John: Yeah.

Dean: Really again, is a wonderful red herring where we feel like, ‘Oh my god, he's really gonna sell this team out.’

John: Yeah.

Chris: Yeah.

John: Or at the very least you have no idea what the hell he's gonna do. 

Dean: Yeah.

John: You know, he is drunk, he is pissed off. No he-

Chris: And he's been put- he's been backed in a corner.

John: And you know, which-

Dean: But even the way he said here, ‘I have a plan that will fix everyone.’ It’s like, woah.

John: And having the picture that Sam drew. It's interesting that it's essentially a codependent relationship, but it's a functioning one that they have.

Dean: And here, again, is a strange bit of blocking that we had never done before, where Nate has isolated himself on the stairway. 

John: Yes.

Chris: Well that helps sell everything, too, doesn't it? Separated from them.

John: Well he's not in front of them, he's behind them. He's separated from them, exactly. Fun bit of blocking, too, actually. It's- we’ll use it again, I'm sure.

Dean: Yeah.

John: Cause that's a nice angle. And yes and then everyone- and then her coming around to pull focus. No, it's for a static shot, it's really interesting. But this is one of the few times we don't tell you the plan.

Dean: Right.

John: You know, it's one of the few times we transition. Usually we-

Chris: We did that in part two of season one, also.

John: Yeah, yeah. It’s- we’re usually an open mystery. 

Chris: Yes.

John: At least- and this was one of the few times that you're not- you have no idea- because the rules for the show usually are, you know what's gonna happen and the fun is seeing it go wrong and how they're gonna recover. This one it's like, you’re just gonna have to trust us.

Chris: Who invented the ‘And this is what we're gonna do’ was that Aristophones? The first one.

John: That was Aristophanes.

Chris: ‘Alright everyone, gather around. Grab your togas; let’s go.’

Dean: Now once again we've got the teams separated in different locations, each with different objectives.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: And that's a little bit of a callback to the pilot episode, when she did the burn gag.

Chris: That's true.

John: Yes, the burn scam. Yeah, wow was this a tough shot.

Dean: That's a little bit of scale, huh guys?

Chris: Wow. 

Dean: How about that?

Chris: They let us- now was that digital or do we- let us paint on the ship?

Dean: We digitally put the name on the ship.

Chris: We did, ok.

John: Well, we did paint some of it .

Dean: We did paint some of it. You’ll see a sign later that we actually painted.

John: That was a lot of fun, just trying to figure out like, the whole break into the FBI office. And what's the easiest way? 

Dean: Short fight, but one of my favorites. 

John: Yeah, just brutal. This is a tough- this was a tough day. Chris did all of these fights in one day, straight through, and ran back and forth between the dialogue scenes.

Dean: This really should've been two days of shooting, that we did in one day.

John: He did like a 20 hour day here.

Dean: This was an insane day.

Chris: Oof.

Dean: But we only had use of this ship for two days, so we had to get it all in.

John: Yeah. He's got the samurai ponytail rocking there, that's how you can tell there's gonna be some fighting. And we have money, and we would like to arrange a meeting. ‘I'm a man with a briefcase full of money, I would like to meet your boss.’ It’s a great, classic trope.

Chris: I like this act, this is my favorite act.

John: I also like- I gave them this running bit where he's counting guys with guns.

Chris: Yeah, I remember that from- you came up with that last season.

John: Season one, and we never found a place for it.

Chris: That's a great shot, too.

John: Yeah, that's a great shot. That and- actually on the boat, that's the way you get between decks. This is actually one of my favorite Parker bits, just talking- coming up with the speech about what it's like to die in an air vent. Because the fact that she's always in air vents, is worth addressing, you know.

Dean: And it shows you the way her mind thinks.

John: Yes, exactly. ‘Scratching on the metal.’ She's kinda turned on, I'm not sure where this is going. 

[Laughter]

Dean: Yeah, that’s fair.

Chris: It's the tongue, the darting tongue and she shakes out of it.

John: Let’s go and we’re off.

Dean: She loves the danger.

Chris: We didn't get wet that down folks, that was actual Portland rain.

John: Yes, Beth Riesgraf and Jeri Ryan were on a rooftop, on a skyscraper, with a thunderstorm during most of this day.

Dean: Not dangerous at all.

John: Not dangerous, ignore the lighting, kids. Man, what were we thinking?

Dean: And he pulled out the Scottish accent out of nowhere, which was fantastic.

John: I know, I know. Which was a lot of fun. Because the idea is the mayor has gotten in over his head, and he's dealing with the same sort of businesses that- power drill was the nastiest thing I could think of.

Chris: And that's quite a nasty bit on it, too.

John: Yes, exactly. Well that’s- you know, I mean, if you're gonna mess up somebody's knees, that's the bit you're gonna use yeah. ‘Still counting.’ Oh yeah, then we just reset- it was really tricky because it was so complicated, we had to reset their goal at the beginning of every act. 

Dean: Right.

John: What do they need to get? Yeah. And again, it's like, do these guys really meet in broad daylight to look at their goods? Yes! Yes they do!

Chris: Yeah.

John: And usually-

Dean: And here's where we set up the phone does voice dialing, which is crucial to our final act.

John: Thank you 21st century. Because we enjoyed tying up Richard Kind and we’ll leave it at that.

Chris: Yeah, I'm sure the fact that GPS is in every phone is gonna be our best friend and possibly our worst enemy this coming season. 

John: No, it's a big deal. 

Chris: Yeah.

John: A phone that's on is a phone that can be tracked.

Chris: Yup.

John: Exactly. And yes and Richard, by the way, finding the desperation. ‘They cut her up in a bathtub!’ 

John: Like the murder wasnt the worst thing in the world, but the fact that somehow it was so undignified? Yeah. Nice scream. And that was, by the way, great little comedy beat, just like, ‘Well to be fair, he did most of the cutting.’ 

Chris: Yeah.

John: The two of them- we don't usually have Eliot and Nate doing comedy together, but when they do it's a pure relationship, it's a nice rhythm.

Dean: And if you look closely, there in the distance, we've set up Sophie is actually with the buyers.

John: Yes.

Dean: But you wouldn't notice that unless you watched it again.

Chris: Oh, that's great.

John: And now they've broken in, they've come down through the air vent, she did not enjoy the experience in any way shape or form. Oh man, this was a tough day. That's like-

Chris: Hot? Cold? What was the temperature? Do you remember?

John: Brutal, brutal hot. Cold at night. Hot at- you know what? There's never-

Dean: Back and forth.

John: It's never comfy on an oil tanker deck.

Chris: No- I’m trying- yeah I'm trying to imagine-

Dean: And there again, there’s Sophie in the distance.

Chris: There she is, that's great.

John: Sophie in the distance. And this is a real fusebox we tacked into. Sorry.

Dean: In city hall?

John: In city hall. 

[Laughter]

John: This was actually a fun thing is, this year we shifted to Hardison not using a signature laptop, but using the minis. 

Chris: Yeah.

John: Because our hacker consultant, Kevin Mitteny told us that's what they're using. They're using $300 computers and throwing them away if they're gonna get busted. And running stuff off the thumb drives.

Dean: And this was the- in the actual cargo hold of the oil tanker, so this was very confined space to shoot in. It looked great, but it was very difficult to light and move the camera around and because the top of the stairs- that was the only stairs that was the only way in and out of that room. So all the lights, all the cameras all had to go up and down stairs- there was no other way in or out.

John: And remind you, Gina’s in this scene later. Gina at, like, 17 months pregnant.

[Laughter]

John: Came down those stairs like a fricken trooper, man. We were just- we were more scared than she was. She was like going down them, and we were like, ‘Ahhh, oh god.’

Chris: Just kind of like [unintelligible] step.

John: It’s an oil tanker! And she’s in like fashion boots, and a kicky top, you know.

Chris: Wow.

John: This was- you know what’s weird? This speech doesn’t advance the plot in any way, shape, or form. This speech is just him selling his character to buy time, and yet it’s really interesting. 

Dean: Yeah this-

John: Tim’s digging in on the character here. It's his evil speech of evil, you know.

Dean: Right

John: And he never gets to give one.

Chris: Yeah, it's interesting when we can do that. We've done that a few times, the- 

John: Glengarry, Glen death.

Chris: Sophie also- also as the Indian pharmaceutical rep gave an evil speech of evil.

John: Yes.

Dean: And this you wrote in the script as the Bourne fade. 

John: Yes.

Dean: Which I thought was the perfect description.

John: It's a perfect- it’s a good shorthand. He's there, and then he’s not there.

Chris: It's great.

John: By the way, Chris has just stepped three feet to the right into a tool locker.

[Laughter]

Dean: Right.

John: There's no actual exit there. And- was there a reason for the 360? Just to keep it- just to be interesting? Because I don't think it was-

Chris: And how hard was that within that space?

Dean: Really hard. But we felt that it was a great way to, again, the world has changed. We thought one thing was going on here, but now we've spun it by-

Chris: And that's steadicam.

Dean: That's all steadicam. Gary Camp.

John: It's weird, because it's also, kind of, Nate Ford buying into his persona there. That's one of the times you really see him.

Dean: And Jackie ‘The Joke Man’ Martling.

John: Who came in and did a great job for us!

Dean: You know what's funny, is that I thought he was just gonna be a comic that you had to teach how to act. But you know what? He really came in with the character, he committed to it, he wasn't just trying to be jokey. I mean, he really knocked it out.

John: He totally gives us serious takes-

Chris: He’s totally convincing as the evidence locker guy.

John: Slightly more convincing than Jeri Ryan in insanely hot pants as the FBI agent. 

[Laughter]

John: I gotta with Jackie here on the verisimilitude scale. Although we did put Jackie in those pants, that didn't work out for us as much. But no, he's great and the kind of vaguely resentful- you can totally see him doing this character on a- 

Dean: And yet he gave us a great exit line here.

John: ‘Oh no, who wants to talk to the evidence guy?’ 

[Laughter]

John: And that was, by the way, that was him, that was not in the script.

Chris: That’s true.

Dean: And not overselling it either.

John: No, no, it was really nice. You could see him playing that role on a cop show.

Dean: Totally.

John: Absolutely. Nate Ford, international man of mystery and arms dealer.

Chris: Peacoat really working well on the boat.

[Laughter]

John: Yeah, nice. It's very much-

Chris: That was a coat waiting for a set.

John: Yeah. Well it's interesting cause- 

Dean: Oh and there's Sophie in the background.

Chris: There’s Sophie!

John: And some people in the first screening kind of caught her, but- 

Chris: Now she's there buying guns? Who’s-?

[Laughter]

John: Well she's- she is buying guns, you know. 

Chris: For her library?

[Laughter]

Dean: Library needs guns, too.

John: Libraries need guns, too. I like to think- I like to think that she is a Swiss buyer.

Chris: No, I mean, it’s a well armed library.

John: She's a Swiss buyer, she’s-

Dean: And here's a nice little turn.

John: Nice swing around. Shot that day on the boat to reveal that they talked. And then over again. Wow, and we all shot this in a real container.

Dean: In a real containter.

Chris: It was for real? Oh, wow.

Dean: Yeah. Now back on the roof, and this is my favorite Parker bit we've ever done. 

Chris: Yeah.

John: Yeah it's tough. There's a lot of good ones, but. 

Dean: But.

John: But we never expected Beth to do this.

Chris: This turn here is great.

Dean: This is the first time since the pilot that we brought back how lethal she can actually be.

John: There's a bit in Stork Job, but boom. Oh yeah and she locked in on Jeris throat on that, too. 

Chris: Yeah.

John: And Jeri goes over the edge. 

Chris: Over the edge. 

John: She's wired, but that's Jeri Ryan hanging over the edge. And it was-

Chris: And again, it was raining and windy. 

John: Raining. Yeah no, they were both fearless up there. 

John: They had a good time up there. They really wound up working well together. And now it's all gone to hell.

Dean: But it's a real callback to that pilot line of, ‘Going to my angry place.’

John: Yeah. This is just- because what's happened is- and just for writing thing, Parker has let her into the family. The only people who are human beings are members of the family. Once Jeri’s betrayed them, she’s moved outside the family, and is an object.

Chris: Well, also to betray the family is-

John: Real ship captain.

Dean: Real ship-

Chris: Oh wow, that's great.

John: You were saying? To betray...

Chris: To betray the family is even worse.

Dean: This is a great hit right here.

Chris: Oh!

Dean: Bam! Man.

John: Yeah- man shooting- that's as wide as that space is, guys. 

Dean: Yeah.

John: That was brutal to be down there.

Dean: And these are two guys from the beginning of the previous episode. So again, if you haven't watched them back to back, you might not realize these are the two guys who shot Bonanno.

Chris: Yeah.

John: Yeah, so you know we've linked up, physically, the bad guys.

Dean: Now that one actually- we put that one actually up there.

John: Yeah, that's a real sign. And this is my favorite, this is one of my favorite character reveals ever, and it's because she's doing one of my favorite characters ever. Gina’s doing Annie Croy here.

Chris: Annie Croy.

Dean: Which, again, ties back to the beginning of the season.

John: Yeah it's almost like we think this through. Yeah and- I'm sorry we're all gonna be quiet here because we all love this.

Dean: ‘Bye now.’

John: ‘Bye now.’

[Laughter]

John: That's fucked up, man. I'm sorry, I'm gonna swear on DVD and say that is fucked up.

Dean: That ‘bye now’ is. 

Chris: The ‘bye now’ throwaway.

Dean: Oh boy, ruthless. And then my second favorite reveal of a character all year.

Chris: Oh.

John: Yeah. No, that's fantastic. And the way Tim sells this like, ‘What the hell is going on?’ No, even writing that character reveal I wasn't sure it would work, and even when we shot it I'm like, ‘Yeah, this works.’ Gina- you've been so waiting to be- hear her voice.

Dean: She is so talented.

John: We've also really lined it up like there’s no out here. We- usually the audience- a smart audience member will see a backdoor we put. There is no backdoor, she's the backdoor. 

Chris: Yeah this was a tricky bit of scripting too, right? I mean we had a ship, and we needed to disable it. I mean, what was- right?

John: It was a lot of wandering around on the ship going, ‘Alright, how does this work exactly?’

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: And even though Tim is out of focus here, you get everything right there.

John: ‘The hell’s going on?’ And she doesn't break character, no.

Dean: Cause she is the ultimate grifter.

John: Yeah, no she does a great- and OK, shoot this guy in the face when I'm off the-’ She's impatient and that's actually kind of a nice thing. And now this.

Dean: Terrific little fight scene shot by Marc Roskin.

John: Yes, at some ungodly hour of the morning. And this is where we pay off the numbers. We've been waiting two years to do this.

Dean: And again, in the actual ship.

John: Yeah, there's a lot of stuff to hurt yourself on. 

Dean: And this gun going off was not easy.

John: Yeah.

Chris: Oof. 

John: Yeah, we're spilling brass all over the inside of the ship. The- this is a brutal fight sequence, all these stunties did- you know, they're banging off metal all over the place.

Dean: In this kind of space, it is so hard to do this safely, these guys were champs. And Christian- I’m telling you, he's amazing in these things.

John: No double.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: Refuses to get a double.

John: Refused to get a double. There you go, and down, he counts. By the way, we’re not exhibiting superhuman strength here. This is how you break flexicuffs.

Chris: Oh wow, that's a little hulk moment.

John: Yeah, the only thing keeping- if you- if- that's why they flexicuff you behind your back. The only thing keeping you in flexicuffs in front of you is the belief that you should be in flexicuffs. Little survival tip.

Chris: Oh wow.

John: And this is also a favorite bit, because it was really written as a kind of expositional, but Beth found this really weird rhythm near the end of it.

Dean: Oh boy.

John: This is shot with the XD right?

Dean: Yeah.

John: This is all shot with a Prosumer-level camera. 

Dean: She just finds this little bit of evil.

John: ‘Oh, I actually thought you were going to throw me off.’ Yeah, exactly.

Dean: Just this little fake laugh here, just so great. I think it's actually in the two shot, because it has to be in the comedy frame.

John: Yeah the- also the- it's interesting that the- the idea that it's fair enough that they would indeed-

Dean: Here it is.

John: Here it is, coming up. ‘I thought you were actually going to throw me off the roof’. And there she is. The look before hand, the ‘Oh, that's right, this is how humans are supposed to react.’

[Laughter]

John: ‘Eh, I was totally going to throw you off that roof.’ 

Chris: Yeah, that’s great.

John: But the whole understanding that yes we probably- that's actually a favorite line and Jeri really nailed it, which is ‘You would have forgiven him.’ They're all enablers, they're all in this weird broken family, and you know, it's both their strength and their weakness. Also, again, by the way, director thing, I had a whole explanation of how Hardison disarmed the ship, and we had no time to shoot it and you were like, ‘Giant wrench!’

Chris: Giant wrench!

John: You know what he's done.

Chris: When you see a giant wrench, you see that he messed something up.

John: He is a monkey wrencher. You know! It's a term.

Dean: In the comedy frame. so-

John: And by the way, ‘Took you long enough,’ is a recurring theme for the entire back half of the season.

Dean: Right there.

Chris: Oh that's right.

Dean: And she walks by. ‘Huh?’

[Laughter]

Dean: Love it.

John: And then a beautiful over the shoulder. Oh that's a hero shot right there. No, it really is- it’s interesting because it was very scary, because you know, you didn't know how long Gina would be with us going into the season and everything.

Chris: Oh, this is great.

John: And the entire act depends on Sophie being the best grifter on earth.

Chris: Even him-

Dean: And it's just fun to see them all back together again, because we've been starved from it.

Chris: Him being like places where he doesn't know he was all throughout this episode.

John: Yeah, it's a nice running gag actually. And zero. And by the way, it was Chris who caught the count. Chris came up to me and was like, ‘If that's the last guy I'm gonna-’ I was like, ‘Oh, good catch at 2am, nicely done.’ ‘Took you long enough,’ again.

Dean: And this sets up the handcuff bit at the end.

John: Yeah, that was tricky.

Chris: Right he has the handcuffs.

John: Oh god, yeah. Boy this was really easy to keep track of.

[Laughter]

Dean: And both of them really delivered- you know, this is a very short scene that needs a lot of emotions. Because it wraps up really where they are and where they're going next season, and they just did it with looks and with subtext. And it was just terrific.

John: You poor bastard. And also, by the way, what I love about this is, this is the happy ending to most television shows, this moment right here. We then fuck it up.

Dean: Right, exactly.

John: Yeah. They really care for each other, they are really good friends.

Dean: And they're there for each other.

John: And they're there for each other, and he's a broken bastard. And what's great is he walks out of there without really knowing what the rest of the plan is.

Dean: My favorite Richard Kind line right here, ‘I don't know.’

John: ‘I don't know.’

[Laughter]

Chris: That's very Richard Kind. That’s Mad About You, Spin City Richard Kind right there.

John: Yeah, it really is. And by the way, yeah, only two ways out of this. That seems like a design flaw to me. Because that front window is a 40 foot drop onto the deck of the ship; you can't get out through that front window. 

Chris: Oh wow.

John: Yeah if you lock these doors, they ain’t going anywhere. Yeah, and a nice run and gun there, and there's also a little mini scene we blew off there with Paul sort of turning on Richard. Hero moment, hero- the team together.

Dean: By the way, those are some digital effects to remove the pregnant belly.

John: Nice, nicely done.

Chris: Oh really, wow.

Dean: Yes.

Chris: I say it a lot.

John: And nice hug.

Dean: And also just on a small note, we couldn't afford two helicopters. Because we had a helicopter in the scene, and we also needed a helicopter that could shoot the scene. So we used the same helicopter for both and then just digitally erased the camera that was mounted on the end of the helicopter.

Chris: Wait wait, so in other words when you're up there with them you're also shooting- the cameras below it?

Dean: So in other words- yeah, so when you see the helicopter arrive later, there was actually a camera attached to it.

John: A giant camera rig on it, like the size of a VW bug on the bottom of it.

Dean: But we erased it.

Chris: Oh that's amazing.

John: Yeah. Yeah and Sophie’s thought of everything. There's a way out, you hear sirens, it's all coming together. 

Dean: And it's fun to see them back together again.

Chris: And again, not that we do this typically. But this was, in a sense, this scene was kind of conceived of first, this scene and him on the deck. 

Dean: Right.

John: That's right.

Chris: That we were leading up to.

John: The original version of the script is, it opens with him bleeding out on the deck and you have no idea where he is.

Chris: But I'm saying even in the beginning of the season.

John: Oh yeah.

Chris: This scene was kind of where the show was going. How we were gonna get there was the question.

John: You don’t- everyone has their different ways. Before we shot a frame of season two, I knew it ended with Nate Ford saying, ‘I'm a thief.’

Chris: Right. But even- but even on a- also on the deck of a ship remember- I remember that.

John: Yeah, on the deck of a ship.

Dean: Now I think this ending is one of the bigger endings we’ve ever done, and it's really the most emotional ending I've ever done.

John: Really? I dunno you and I-

Dean: More than I was expecting it to be.

John: You and I disagree, because we all have our favorite stuff, but yeah, it-

Chris: It’s certainly a huge hero moment.

John: It's a huge hero moment, and they're all making great choices. Eliot really wants to just tear through these guys, and Nate’s not gonna let him.

Dean: Yeah.

John: Yeah. 

Dean: He's being a good dad for once.

John: Yeah. He’s- and by the way, again, this is not the right choice, he shouldn't have lied to them, he shouldn't have had a plan he didn't tell them, he shouldn’t- he's a control freak. Even in his moment of sacrifice, he's a selfish, alcoholic bastard.

[Laughter]

Dean: That's right.

John: I just wished to make sure nobody makes sure nobody thinks he's being super heroic here. He doesn't really change that much. 

Chris: That’s true.

John: No, and this was fun, we had all different kinds of versions of lockers and found out that yeah, that's how they keep a lot of evidence.

Dean: That’s crazy.

John: That was fun though too, also, you only had two rows of those evidence lockers, so you staggred them to shoot through them to make it look-

Dean: To make it seem like they went on forever.

Chris: Yeah where was that? Where-?

John: That was on set that was- remember the small soundstage we had?

Chris: Oh, ok.

Dean: It was actually a reworking of the set at the end of 207 at the airport. 

John: Yes. It was the airport, but we just moved it over to the other stage. And I also love the idea again- Nate and Sterling are playing a game that just nobody else gets to be a part of. This is just- this is just nine moves ahead guys. 

Dean: Right.

John: There's another version of the show where Katie O'Grady chases Eliot, Parker, and Hardison for an entire season, yeah, but in this version. ‘I can feel you thinking’ he knows him, he knows him that well. He knows the counter move- no, they really dug in here. And by the way, it's 110 degrees on that deck, Tim’s in a peacoat handcuffed to a rail. He's working his ass off here. 

Dean: With the turtleneck.

John: With the turtleneck, yeah. Oh and just the sheer rage Katie O'Grady is radiating there. 

Chris: Now what time- what day- part of the shooting day was this? Did you make-?

John: This was morning.

Chris: This was, like, first thing?

Dean: Yeah, this was the first shot.

Chris: Is that a challenge to do the most emotional thing first?

Dean: It is, and especially because when we started shooting it we were in cloud cover and then halfway through the scene the sun came out. And so then trying to make that all work was really difficult. 

Dean: This, I thought, was surprisingly more emotional than I anticipated when we were there.

John: Well it was weird because when we were there, we couldn't quite get the staging, and they seemed like they were standing really far away. ‘Cause the deck was bigger than we thought.

Dean: Right.

John: And no- well this is the shot because by shooting this way, you get intimate, it feels like they're right on top of them. The other reverse kind of shows you the space.

Chris: I think it also parallels from season one, also-

John: Yeah it does, it does.

Chris: The scene where they’re standing around, really nicely.

Dean: But they're all disappointed in him, which is great. He sacrificing for them, but that's not what they want.

John: No. And he lied to them. And he's- you’re an idiot, I mean, that's really what Eliot’s thinking right there.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: Yeah.

John: Like, ‘You know what? If you just talk to us.; I really never realized how [unintelligible] this episode is. 

Chris: It is.

John: It’s a big hero sacrifice, but it’s- you know he really broke the family. Again.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: And Gina just nails this scene. I mean, we waited for this kiss for two seasons.

John: Yeah.

Dean: And it comes out, and she's crushed by it. It’s great.

John: Yeah. And again, and- you know this is a big hero moment in his head and she calls him on it. Because she- and this is what's interesting, Sophie Deveraux is a more advanced human being than Nate Ford is at this point. She went away, she took her space-

Chris: Right.

John: You know. 

Dean: And she lets him have it.

John: In the same way he let her have it at the end of season one, she's letting him have it at the end of season two. I love that look, by the way, that Eliot- Chris and Mark really set up the fact that they can't stand each other, really well.

Chris: And here, you know, the relationship between these two kicks in also. 

John: Yeah.

Chris: Between Nate and Sterling.

John: Yeah, the fact that he held it together- and they don't know, by the way. 

Chris: Right.

John: They have no idea when they're leaving.

Dean: That little look with Christian is just great.

John: And there's a camera mount on that helicopter.

Dean: That's been erased.

Chris: That's great.

John: ‘Who the hell is this guy?’ That- this is- you’re right, we wrote the ending first.

Chris: Yeah, I remember, this was-

Dean: He goes, ‘I don’t know.’

John: I remember this was the first thing ever.

Dean: This was the end of the arc. ‘I'm a thief.’

John: ‘And I'm a thief.’ I mean this is a callback to him saying I'm not a thief for two years. 

Dean: Right.

John: Wow. Thank god this is the last episode of the show.

Chris: And we’re not listening- and we can't hear it here in the commentary, but Joe Le Duca did- the orchestration for this is absolutely fantastic.

Dean: It's actually the first time he went and got a real orchestra. 

John: Yeah.

Dean: Went to Salt Lake City and recorded with a real orchestra, and I mean the scale of this is outstanding.

John: It's giant. 35- I think we had close to half a- 50 FBI agents here. And just cars, helicopters, and this is a big- this is a big hero moment, man. This is a film ending, you know.

Dean: Yeah, it really is.

John: This is it. I love his choice here, it's like, ‘And if I die, I'm totally cool with that.’

Chris: Oh here we go.

John: And he's bleeding out, can you see?

Dean: See the blood on the ground.

John: The blood- he's bleeding out. There's no guarantee Nate Ford will make it.

[Laughter]

Chris: Wow.

John: Which was fun actually shooting this, ‘cause Tim really loved this. And two days before we finished shooting, he turned to me and went, ‘Wait am I dead?’

[Laughter]

Chris: Oh that’s something.

Dean: Stay tuned for season three and you'll find out.

John: I know. No kidding, you'll find out.

Dean: Thank you again for hanging in there with us and listening to this commentary.

John: We had a great time and we really appreciate you guys watching the show.

Chris: And thanks again for watching season two; we can't wait to bring you season three.

John: And thank you, Portland.

Dean: Yes.

John: Big thank you, Portland.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Doppelganger" *Part 23*

WHOO, y'all. I don't know what it is about this story but I am just...rolling it all out with the tragic backstory. No angst, I promise-- It ends happy chill out. But damn. Maybe I'm working out my own issues in here...lulz.

This gif will make so much sense you have no idea.

PART 22

Part 24

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

------

“....And how did that make you feel?”

You tried not to laugh out loud as the question left Dr. Crestview’s mouth. Did she really just ask you that?

“...I mean it makes me ‘feel’ bad,” You rolled your eyes with a laugh while looking out the window. When you turned back to the doctor she was not laughing, and she was writing something down.

“...That was a joke,” You clarified.

“Oh yes, I get it,” She nodded as she continued writing.

“Do you?” You asked her frankly. The question caused her to stop writing and look at you.

“Mrs. Barba--”

“Ms. YLN,” You corrected. “I’m not married yet,”

“...Hmm, interesting,” She wrote something down. Seriously? She even had an insight on what-- technicalities?

“I’m sorry, was that some sort of test?” You asked sarcastically.

“Actually, it was,” She said to your surprise.

“Excuse me?” You looked at her, baffled.

“You know when most women get engaged, they start imagining their last names as their husbands. You know such as changing their signature, gathering documents, and the like,”

“...Are you serious?” You laughed again. “This is 2021 lady, half the women I know didn’t even take their husband’s last name at all,”

“And is that what you’re going to do?” She asked. “Keep your last name?”

“...If I say yes are you going to psychoanalyze that too?” You crossed your arms.

“In my experience Ms. Y/L/N, women who don’t want to change their last names tend to do so because they want to keep their independence, their…’identity’. They think taking a man’s last name is ‘giving up’ something. Giving up their identity,” She explained.

“...And?” You gestured with your hand as if waiting for her to continue.

“And in my educated opinion, it also signifies a woman going into a marriage with one foot out of the door already,” She simply stated.

“Wow,” You shook your head with a sarcastic laugh. “Did I come here to resolve my trauma, or for marriage advice?”

“I think they’re one and the same, Ms. Y/L/N,” She stayed completely calm and emotionless.

“Are they?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Given what you’ve told me in our last few sessions, you’ve given off a tone that you don’t think you deserve good things. Maybe you’re keeping on foot out of your relationship so that when it falls apart, you’ll be ready,”

“Wow....wow,” You started to stand up and storm out of the office, but she stopped you with a question.

“I’m sorry if I offended you with my observation Y/N, but be honest. Am I wrong?”

You thought about all the talks you had with Rafael about ‘not being good enough’ for him, or ‘stealing his love’. And on the one hand you felt that you were ‘connected’, you felt safe and secure. After everything you’d been through, it was almost impossible not to be, right? Right?

“....And what is your magic solution to this feeling, doctor?” You crossed your arms.

“You need to forgive yourself,”

“...Jesus Christ,” You rolled your eyes with another laugh as you paced the room. “Really? That’s your solution? Telling me something I already know?”

“No, my solution is this: You need to apologize to your parents,”

“EXCUSE ME?” You practically screamed.

“You blame yourself for their death, correct? You think that because of their desire to make you happy they risked their lives driving into the city and therefore got into their accident,” She looked over her notes from past sessions with you.

“...Right,” You looked down at the floor.

“And I don’t think that you have ever forgiven yourself for that. And in not doing so, you haven’t forgiven yourself for anything you’ve done since then. All these things you say you’ve ‘done’ to Mr. Barba that you should be ‘punished’ for-- he doesn’t see it that way. Other people don’t see it that way. Your parents' accident wasn’t your own doing, getting kidnapped wasn’t your fault. I think that you need to find closure with your parent’s death before you can even begin to ‘forgive’ yourself for whatever transpired between you and Nevada Ramirez,”

“....So you want me to apologize to my parents? How are they going to ‘forgive’ me?” You asked her.

“I think you’ll find Ms. Y/L/N that just the act of apologizing will bring about its own form of forgiveness,” She smiled.

“.....Right…” You tried not to sound condescending, but for a shrink she sure sounded crazy.

“Or don’t listen to me, I can’t force you to do anything. But that is my advice,” She shrugged.

“Noted. Thank you, doctor,” You nodded and walked out the door.

----

You walked out into the streets of the city from your doctor’s office and thinking about just how or when you’d have a chance to go to your hometown where your parents were, when you were stopped by a young girl on the street.

“Oh my god...you’re Y/N!” She gasped.

“...Yes?” You stared at her blankly.

“You’re that girl who killed Nevada Ramirez!” She squealed, causing a few people to stare and take pictures of you as they walked past.

“Oh good lord…” You muttered nervously. “Yeah well um--”

“Can I get a selfie with you?”

“Um--” You looked around, not sure of what to do. You wanted to run down the street screaming, but you thought better of it. You turned back to her with the fakest smile you could form.

“Sure!” You threw an arm around her and smiled as big as you could as she snapped a selfie with her phone.

“Thanks!” She beamed at you. “ And by the way, your fiancé is REALLY sexy,”

“Oh girl I know,” You faked a laugh and a toss of your hair as she walked away with a laugh.

It really creeped you out that girls were ‘fangirling’ over your fiancé. As if you weren’t worried about keeping a hold of him all on your own. Also how did she even know what he looked like?

The article.

You grabbed your phone and did something you told yourself you’d never do: You googled yourself.

The first thing that popped up was an article on the NYTimes.com front page:

“Fairy Tale Romance Or Horror Movie?”

...What the fuck?

The article contained your video as the main focus. Then under it the article basically dictated the video, with Tasha’s opinions thrown in here and there. Then most of the photos from the photoshoot of you and Rafael were at the bottom of the page. They were gorgeous, you had to admit. Granted you were both airbrushed to hell, but Rafael in a suit drove you nuts. Even if it was just on a screen. You dialed his number as you continued walking down the street.

“....Hola, mi amor. How is my pinguino feeling?”

“Well she’s currently feeling like she’s got the sexiest man in New York City,” You grinned.

“Oh really? And why’s that?” He asked you curiously.

“Check out the picture I’m texting you,” You grinned as you texted him one of the photos from the spread.

“Oh Christ…” You heard him mutter through the phone, causing you to giggle.

“Oh yes, you even have your own fangirls now,” You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“No I do NOT,” He argued in disbelief.

“Yeah I’d be careful leaving your office there counselor, a group of tweens might be waiting outside,”

“Oh my god...they’re breaching the doors!” He acted terrified, making you laugh harder.

“Oh I think I see one,” You whispered as if you were sneaking up on someone. “She’s holding a ‘Barba 4Eva’ poster board,”

“You better be kidding,” He warned.

“No, in fact I think she’s right outside your door,” You bit your tongue with a smile.

“Oh well I’d better call security then,” He chuckled as he sauntered over to his office door and swung it open.

“Oh my Gooodddddddd it’s Rafael Barba!!! The sexiest ADA in New York City!!” You giggled wildly, jumping into his arms like a crazed fan.

“I should definitely look into some armed guards at my door,” He laughed as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you.

“Oh most definitely, wouldn’t want to let the crazies in,” You nodded as you kissed him again.

“Well I think it’s too late for that…” He teased you while tousling your hair.

“Shut up,” You playfully hit his hands away.

“Speaking of crazy, how was therapy today mi amor?” He asked cheekily.

Wowwwww, sexy AND sensitive, how did I get so lucky?” You rolled your eyes. “Actually, she gave me homework,”

“Did she?” He inquired.

“Yes,” You suddenly got very serious. “She um, she told me I need to go see my parents,”

“...Your parents?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, something about needing to ‘apologize’ to them or some weird shrink thing like that,”

“....Do you think it will help?”

“I mean...” You sighed and looked out the window. “I don’t know. But I’d like to try,”

“Bueno,” He nodded walking closer to you and kissing the top of your head. “So are you going to go now or--?”

“Well I was kind of hoping you’d come with me,” You bit your lip. You didn’t know if asking him to come along on your shrink homework assignment was allowed, but you knew you couldn’t do this alone. Maybe that was the point.

“Really?”

“I mean, I met your family,” You half laughed, trying to make light.

“Right,” He nodded his head with a chuckle. “Well then, let’s go,”

“...Now?”

“Why not?” He started to walk towards the door.

“Don’t you have a job?” You pointed to his desk.

“Oh they just like to pay me to sit in here so nobody robs the place,” He joked as he grabbed his coat. “I have nothing going on today baby, they won’t miss me.”

“Okay then,” You shrugged uneasily. “Guess we’re going to Jersey,”

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

After a train ride and a taxi later, you arrived in your small town of Shallow Meadow.

“Christ Almighty, I knew Jersey was in the dark ages, but not even having Uber??” Rafael grumbled. He hadn’t been in the back of a dirty cab in such a long time, and now he remembered why.

“Alright Daddy Warbucks, chill,” You laughed as you started walking with him through town.

It was a quaint little town; one stop light, one grocery store, two bars, something out of an old movie really You know the movies where the car breaks down in the tiny shitty town and all the townspeople are flesh eating zombies or something. The people of Shallow Meadow were pretty much like that. Well, to you anyway.

“So why didn’t we just have the Mayberry Express drop us at the cemetery?”

“...Because we don’t have roads you can drive on up there,” You answered with a nervous smile.

“...Right,” He shook his head as he noticed people coming out of shops to stare at the two of you. “...Do I have some kind of weird sign on my back that says NEW YORKER or what?”

“No, but that thousand dollar suit screams “moneybags” out here,” You smirked. “Besides, they’re not staring at you they’re staring at me,”

“...What? How do you know that?”

As if it was answering his question, a girl with bright red hair dressed in farm clothing and holding a baby on her hip came sauntering up to the two of you.

“Well lookie here,” She smirked. “Miss Prissy Pants brought back herself a Prissy Papa,”

“Excuse you?” Rafael was taken aback by such rudeness by such a poorly dressed person.

“Marla back off,” You scowled at her. “Just because you’re upset I found treasure and you’re stuck with trash--”

“OH, is that what we are now? Trash?” Marla spat. “You have a lot of nerve coming back here and saying that, murderer,”

“WHOA,” Rafael stepped in front of you. “I’m sorry, what-- what did you just call her?”

“Did she not tell you the story? Oh no wait I bet she did, her version. The version where she’s the victim and we’re all just the villains. Isn’t that right, Prissy?” She glared at you.

“...I never said you were--” You tried defending yourself.

“Really?” She scoffed. “Then why did you not even bother to show up to your folks’ funeral? Their ONLY daughter, the ones they DIED for. Couldn’t even be bothered to leave her high rise in the city to pay respects to the parents she KILLED,”

“It wasn’t like that and you KNOW it, Marla! And why was I going to come back? The only two people left in this town that tolerated me were gone--” You got up in her face.

“AND WHY IS THAT, Y/N?” She got back in yours, her baby almost falling out of her arms.

“Alright lady I don’t know who you are, but you’re going to back the hell off my fiancée--”

“Oh good God, your fiancé?” Marla laughed. “You would find yourself a sugar daddy, since you killed yours,”

“Alright you know what we’re leaving--” You grabbed Rafael’s hand and stomped away towards a huge hill that had a sign reading “CEMETERY” at the top.

“I hope you’re heading up there to beg their forgiveness Y/N, ‘cuz you sure as hell ain’t getting any down here!” Marla yelled angrily after you.

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

“...Well I think we just figured out where your forgiveness issues came from,” Rafael tried making light of the situation.

“Ya think?” You nodded.

“This whole time,” Rafael shook his head. “This whole time I thought you just had it in your mind that you were responsible for their death. But-- but you had an entire town telling you that,”

“...Yeah,” You shrugged.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything, baby?” Rafael took your hand as the hill got steeper.

“Because I thought they were right, Rafael!” You said in a ‘duh’ tone. “Why would I tell you that an entire town thought that I was a murderer? That’s not really a selling point on a partner,”

“...You thought they were right?”

“...Well, yeah,” You nodded softly with a small smile.

“And now…?”

Before you could answer, you reached the entrance of the cemetery. Luckily it wasn’t that big; you were ashamed to admit you didn’t even know where they were buried. But you found them in a small corner under a shade tree. You walked up to their mutual headstone:

“Y/M/N AND Y/D/N: Beloved Husband And Wife, Mayor and First Lady.”

“...Mayor?” Rafael looked at you in surprise.

“Yeah, well--” You shrugged. “You see why they were so beloved, and I was the hellish daughter that killed them?”

“Y/N…” Rafael put a hand on your shoulder.

“I was supposed to want to ‘take over the city’, like I would ever want to be in charge of anything in this stupid backwards hick ass town,” You scoffed angrily, tears stinging your eyes.

“...But didn’t you say that your parents wanted you to go to Juliard? Pursue your dreams?” Rafael asked in confusion.

“They did! My grandparents-- they had a different view,” You shook your head. “The...the hierarchy here it’s-- well it’s not really a democracy,”

“...How so…?” Rafael raised an eyebrow.

“Because everyone just loved and accepted my family as, I don’t know, the ‘royal’ family?” You felt so stupid comparing your family to the Royal Family, but you didn’t know how else to explain it.

“The Mayor and First Lady titles were just...passed down, in my family. And not because they were dictators or something,” You quickly added the last part, you didn’t want Rafael to think any less of your family than he probably already did.

“People here are just...simple,” You sighed. “They accept things the way they are, they hate change. So it was just assumed that my family would always be... "the family’,”

“But you didn’t want that,” Rafael said again.

“Of course I didn’t want that!” You scoffed. “I didn’t want to just get a high school degree and then marry some ‘Cletus’ redneck man from here and have ‘heirs’ just to keep the family going!”

“But your parents understood that,” Rafael reiterated.

“It didn’t matter what my parents did or didn’t understand. My grandfather had more clout with the townspeople here,” You rolled your eyes. “My dad was the ‘mayor’, but his dad controlled everything. His father had been the mayor for over thirty years before he passed it onto my dad, who didn’t really want it either” You walked up to the headstone and ran your fingers over your father’s name.

“....So when he tried to ‘save’ me from that life, my grandpa wouldn’t hear it. He blamed me for...for manipulating them into giving me anything I wanted, like I was a spoiled little child. He blamed me for them giving me their life savings to go to Julliard instead of putting it back into the town treasury. Then he blamed me when they got killed, and he just reinstated himself as mayor! Which, I haven’t checked but I’ll be damned if he isn’t still rattling around his old ass bones in our house! He’ll just haunt this place forever!” You threw your hands up and looked down angrily at the town down below.

“Carino…” Rafael came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You took his hands in yours and kissed them before turning to face him. You looked into his sparkling green understanding eyes for a moment, before directing your attention back at the headstone.

“....This is Rafael Barba, mama and daddy,” You pulled him gently forward. “We’re getting married soon,”

“...Nice to meet you folks,” Rafael said awkwardly.

“...Raffi they’re dead,” You smiled jokingly.

“Right, right,” He shook his head with a small laugh.

“...He’s a very good man, daddy. I know you always wanted that. And he’s very handsome, so you’ll have beautiful grandchildren mama, just like you wanted,” You smiled while Rafael softly chuckled.

“...I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come,” You finally said with tears rolling down your cheeks. “I should have been here sooner,”

“But you’re here now,” Rafael softly rubbed your back.

“Yeah…” You nodded softly. This was the hard part.

“...I’m---I’m sorry, that I made you feel like horrible parents that night,” You tried not to cry, but the memories of that night flooded your memory the more you spoke.

“I’m sorry that you thought you needed to come see me, that you weren’t good parents if you didn’t,” Your lip trembled, you fell to your knees.

“...I’m sorry the last words you heard from me were ‘I hate you’,” You finally broke down sobbing.

“Y/N…” Rafael knelt down next to you and held you in his arms as you cried.

“Do you get now why...why I don’t think I deserve you? Why don't I think I deserve anything? Why I think I have to take everything? Fake everything? Because I am such a terrible person my own parents died thinking I hated them because I was that horrible to them!”

“They didn’t think you hated them, carino,” Rafael rocked you back and forth. “They knew you loved them, I know they did,”

“You know you’re probably right, Rafael. But it--I needed them to hear it,” You nodded at the gravestone.

“And?”

“...And I feel a lot better,” You smiled as Rafael wiped tears from your face.

“Really?”

“Yeah…Really,” You chuckled. “I guess that therapist really knows what she’s doing,”

“She should for the amount of money I pay her,” Rafael shook his head with a laugh as he helped you stand up.

“...Thank you for doing this with me, amor,” You sniffled, pressing your forehead against his.

“Of course, penguino,” He kissed you softly. “And, for what it’s worth--” He added as you two walked back down the hill towards town.

“I think that if your parents were alive, they would be proud of you,”

“Oh, I know my mother would take one look at you and be DAMN proud,” You both laughed at that.

“And I also think they would be appalled to see how their townspeople treat their daughter,” He glared at the town.

“Yeah well,” You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Not anymore,”

“I’m glad to hear it,” He took your hands as the sun started to go down in your sleepy little town. “Now can we please get back to the city before I catch something out here?”

“Yes,” You giggled, staring at him lovingly.

“Let’s go home,”

[flightsoffandom]

Peer Pressure

Pairs: Aaron Hotchner x Reader (Future SugarDaddy!Hotch x SugarBaby!Reader)

Words: 6998

Summary: After a casual comment to your friends, an interesting opportunity falls into your lap. Curious to see where this opportunity leads, you go along with it. This odd string of events has a very intriguing outcome.

Warnings: None really, Peer pressure I guess (I mean it is the title of this chapter)

Notes: Left completely gender-neutral. Please feel free to send me any questions, comments, or suggestions about this fanfic because I’m kinda in new territory, so any feedback would be helpful and appreciated. <3 I found a gender-neutral term for Parent, so instead of using ‘Sugar Mommy’ or ‘Sugar Daddy' at one point, a character used the term ‘Sugar Renny’ (‘Renny’ is shorthand for ‘Rents’ which in turn is short for ‘Parents’). I will probably reuse the term in other fics because, honestly, I think it’s a hella cute term for a parent. Please know that I don’t support using some of the behavior displayed in this fanfic in real life. That being said, this is indeed FanFiction, and some of it was added for comic effect or whatever else. Don’t peer pressure your friends into doing something they don't need and/or want to do. You don't need to date someone ever or date consistently in order to be a fulfilled person <3

Beginning of Unconventional – Peer Pressure* – Second Date

Rossi sat utterly relaxed in the chair across from Hotch’s desk, “When is the last time you went on a date?” Rossi had been relentlessly questioning Hotch about his love life for the last fifteen to twenty minutes. Hotch groaned, “Is this really a good use of our time, Dave?” Rossi gave a very dramatic nod, “Yes. It is.” Hotch had been staring at the same paper, unable to get any work done, “I don’t have the time.” Rossi gave Hotch an unamused look. Prompting Hotch to add, “Finding someone who has a schedule that lines up with mine would be damn near impossible.” Rossi got a mischievous look on his face. A look that always meant he was up to something. Rossi smiled, “There are certain…” Rossi moves his hands as he speaks, “arrangements. People who are willing to spend time with you at the drop of a hat.” Aaron narrowed his eyes, watching Dave closely, “You’re not seriously suggesting a prostitute, are you?” Rossi laughs, “You are not that much of a lost cause… yet.” Rossi pulls out his phone and starts messaging someone. Aaron was more suspicious than curious, “Then what were you suggesting?” Rossi looks back up from his phone, “Something more in the sugar baby range of companionship.” Hotch’s eyes went wide, completely taken aback, “What?” Hotch pauses, thinking this was a joke. Rossi’s face, however, showed that he was serious about his suggestion.

   Hotch starts to protest, “How is tha-” Rossi interrupts him with the wave of his hand, “Now before you start throwing the rulebook around and get all dramatic about it. It’s not always money, Aaron.” Hotch scoffs. Rossi rolls his eyes, “So closed-minded. It can be gifts, opportunities, or connections.” Rossi looks at his phone again, “That’s something you will have to work out with them.” Hotch couldn’t believe what Ross was saying. Then Hotch realized how Rossi phased that last sentence, “Did you already set me up with someone?” Rossi nods, smirking, “I did. From what I have heard about them, you two would be a good match.” Hotch exhaustedly places his hand over his face, “You haven’t even met them yourself?” Rossi stands up, “I heard it from a reliable source.” Rossi grins at Hotch, “If it makes you feel better, I will be vetting them before I set up your official date.” Hotch wanted to protest to fight this, and Rossi could see that. So Rossi intervenes before anything could be said, “And don’t try to weasel out of it. I can make your life a living hell, and you know I will.” It was a half-hearted threat, one made between friends. That didn’t make the statement any less true, though. If Hotch didn’t agree to this now, he knew Rossi would find a way to trick him into it later. Maybe even getting the rest of the BAU involved. That sounded like a much bigger headache than just agreeing to it now. Hotch reasoned that he could always go to this date, meeting, whatever it was called, and then just never do a follow-up. So begrudgingly, Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke, “Fine.” Rossi had an all too triumphant look on his face as he walked out of Hotch’s office.

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It hadn't been a good week for you. Between getting the news that the scholarship you had been relying on for college was ending, you had no financial backup plan. You had a decent job at a local restaurant, but one of the owner’s kids took over and cut the servers pay. It was that time of year for your apartment to increase rent prices. You have been looking for other jobs but didn’t have any luck. It just seemed to be one thing after another. All of these things weighed on your mind, stressing you out. Before all of that stress happened, you had agreed to go out with your friends tonight. And Oliva wasn't planning on letting weasel out of this so you could anxiously worry about things in your apartment all by yourself.

You wanted to be studying, or filling out applications, or anything but be at this bar right now. Oliva and Mason, two of your close friends, had different plans. The music was so loud you had to yell over it just to talk to anyone. It was so crowded that you felt claustrophobic. And to top it off, the three of you had been looking for a free place to sit for easily an hour. It was exhausting. Oliva tugged on one of your arms, “[Y/N] come on have some funnnnnnnn…” Mason pulled on your other arm, “You promised you would be fun tonight.” You sighed and rolled your eyes, “I agreed to this before I found out I will either have to drop out of school or pick up two more jobs.” Your two friends groaned. The pair finally finds a table, and the three of you jump on it before someone else takes it. Oliva spoke up first, giggling, “You know you could always get a job working with us.” Mason grins, “Being a sugar baby has a lot of perks. I haven’t had to worry about bills in like five years.” You roll your eyes, “I’m glad you guys are happy being sugar babies, but I really don’t think it's the right thing for me.” With the news your scholarship was ending, you had started seriously wondering if your friends were right, though. It seemed like a magic fix to all your problems. You sighed, “But maybe… let me see if I can figure something out, first.” Oliva and Mason were both busying texting away on their phones. Mason shook his head, “You can’t wait that long. It’s like a normal relationship. You gotta feel it out and see if it will work and then mutually agree to the arrangement details.” You dramatically let fold your arms onto the table before letting your head fall on top of your arms.

Oliva pats your back, “It’s alright. I got one lined up for you already.” You shoot back up, “What? I haven’t even officially agreed to it yet.” Oliva grins devilishly at you, “You said ‘officially,’ which means you have agreed. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself or said it out loud.” Mason flags down someone bussing drinks and orders you all a round. Oliva was right. You had basically mentally agreed to it already. You were nervous, though. This was not typically how you did things. You take a drink, “I don’t like being so dependent on someone.” These weren’t objections. They were more just worries you had. Mason laughs, “I mean in a way sure. But doesn’t marriage do the same thing? Married people become legally bound together by all sorts of documents from the marriage itself to houses, cars, or bank accounts.” Mason knocks his drink back and then shrugs, “I’ve never become legally bound to any Sugar Renny’s I’ve had.” He was making sense. You nod along as you drink, “Okay then… I honestly don’t see how it could make things worse.” Olive laughs, “Cheers to that. Now let’s have some fun.” You all gently clink your glasses together before going back to drinking.

After a few hours, Oliva jumps up, “You have to come with me now. We are gonna go meet someone.” You sit there startled, and Mason shoos you both, having his own plans for the night. You stare at Oliva, “How is this happening right now?” Oliva rolls her eyes like you're supposed to know, “Cause he is famous and a very busy man. He calls the shots.” She grabs your arm and starts tugging you through the crowds of people. You stumble behind her. Once you get out the door, you start asking questions, “Who even is he? Where are we meeting him?” Oliva looks around and pulls you towards a car that you’re assuming is an Uber, “So many questions can’t you just be spontaneous and trust me.” Oliva makes you get in the back of the car first, so you didn’t have a chance to run away. You glare at her as she slides in next to you, “I trust you just fine. It's the stranger I don’t trust. What if he is a serial killer or something?” Oliva starts chuckling, which quickly turns to full-out laughter like she knew something you didn’t. You narrow your eyes at her, “You are the worst.” Oliva confirms that the driver knows where to go. The place she stated was pretty upscale. Now you were nervous. You hadn’t dressed for a nicer venue, only wearing clothes for a casual night out. Oliva turns to you, “You might think I’m the worst, but clearly someone needs to intervene. When is the last time you went on a date?” You anxiously breathe in through your teeth, “There was…” Olive interrupts you knowing exactly who you were going to say, “That was YEARS ago. It’s been too long.” You sigh and try to relax, knowing arguing isn’t going to get you anywhere with Oliva.

The drive took some time, and you were getting more nervous, the closer you got to your destination. To try to calm yourself, you switch between messing with your hands and scrolling through your phone. When the vehicle finally stops, it startles you. Oliva gets out first. You closely follow behind her. At this point, you knew trying to sneak away was pointless. Plus, part of you was extremely curious about who this guy was and how this whole sugar baby thing would pan out. You could already see that this place was a higher class then you were used to. Oliva let go of your wrist when she deemed you trustworthy enough to just follow her on your own. You stayed close, feeling absolutely out of place. When the door opens, the smell of cigars and smoke rolls out. Luckily it wasn’t overwhelming, but it was definitely noticeable. Oliva worked her way through the crowd with ease as you trail behind her. Oliva weaves her way through like she has been here before, and she probably has. When she stops, you almost run into her. Oliva motions to a gentleman enjoying a cigar and a glass of what you assumed was alcohol.

The man was quite a bit older than you thought he would be. Not that Oliva had given you any sort of information to go off of. He had grey coming into both his hairline and facial hair. The man was dressed more casually than the posh masses that filled the rest of the building. Oliva said he was famous and you recognized him from something, but you weren’t sure what. He had a suave look about him, and he wasn’t bad looking, just not your type. Oliva walked up to the gentleman, “Davie!” She gave him a big hug, and the man hugged her back. Oliva pulled back, “Steve and I really had fun at the party last week.” This was one of those moments where Oliva got carried away. She was catching up with the nicely dressed gentleman, and you were wondering if you were actually supposed to be here for this. The man clears his throat to get Oliva to slow down, drawing your attention. The man finished his drink, looking overall, somewhat amused, “This is the friend you were telling me about?” He motions to you. Oliva nods, “Mhm, [Y/N]. They are new to all this stuff. I think they will be perfect for what you need.” You glared at Oliva as she talked about you like you weren’t there. Oliva doesn’t even seem to notice, “Which I think I will leave you two to discuss the details.” Your mouth drops open, “Liv!” Oliva turns to look at you, “What? You need to be more spontaneous. So I’m just going to throw you into the deep end of this. Love you, though.” She gives you a loving, albeit annoying pinch on the cheek. You grumble. Before you can stop her, Oliva bolts, quickly disappearing into a group of people.

You let out a long groan before remembering that the famous man was still standing near you. You turn to look at him, worriedly pressing your eyebrows together, “She is a bit of a mess.” Letting out a nervous chuckle as you finish your statement. The man laughs, “Since she skipped over proper introductions. I’m David Rossi.” As soon as he said his name, it clicked. You had seen some of his books. You think you might have even bought a few but just never got around to reading them. You still weren’t entirely sure what was going on, but you offered an apprehensive smile, “I’m [Y/N], but Oliva at least remembered that part.” David motions to the table for you to sit down. He seemed friendly, but between him being famous and Oliva completely underselling the whole ‘throwing you into the deep end’ thing, you were antsy and unsure of what was going on. David seems to catch onto this quickly, “You can relax, I’m not the person you’re being set up with. But I’m assuming Oliva didn’t mention that.” You do relax a bit, sighing as you nod, “She did fail to mention that and pretty much everything else about what is going on.” A waiter stops by handing David a new glass. David takes a drink, “I am here to make sure you're a good fit for a friend of mine.” You nod slowly, “What do you want to know?” David pulls out a small note pad, skimming it as he talks, “You're a senior in college. You have a job, but you're still having a money problem.” There wasn't a question in that it was all statements. David looks back up at you for a moment. You try to get a closer look at that note pad, “Did you take notes about me? How much did Oliva tell you?” David laughs, “I’m an author. What did you expect? I do my research.” You didn't know where to be disturbed or flattered that a celebrity was this involved in your love life. You didn’t get a chance to think about it too much. David spoke again, “Essentially, I know everything about you. Mostly just fact-checking. I wanted to gauge your personality in person.” You sigh and let your face fall into the palm of your hand, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the moment. Surprisingly David lets you take a minute to collect yourself, only starting his questions when you raise your head back up. David looks back over his notes, “You've never been involved in this sort of arrangement before?” You shake your head. He asks a few other questions, clearly trying to evaluate you the whole time. It wasn't too bad, but you get anxious that maybe you were giving the wrong answers. The stress was getting to you a little bit, and David could tell. He quickly asked the questions, giving you just enough time to respond before asking the next one. Finally, he asks his last questions, “Do you plan on making arrangements with multiple people?” Startled by the question, you respond with the first thing that comes to mind, “Ohh god, no. I’m fucking nervous enough about one person.” This was the first candid response that fell out of your mouth. Your eyes went wide when you realized that you said that much louder than you meant too. You try to collect yourself to give a more collected response, but David just starts laughing before you get a chance. David gives a pleased nod as he starts writing something down on a card, “I like you.”

David looked at you, “Now it's time for me to leave but, I think you’re a good fit. Here is the location, date, and time you will be meeting him.” David hands you a card. You choke out of surprise, “What? I don't get to see a picture of him or anything? No further details?” You cautiously take the card. David shrugs and laughs, “His name is Aaron, and that’s all I am giving you. Think of it as a game.” David tussles your hair, “Good luck, kiddo.” You try to stop him, but he is already gone. You were left sitting in the middle of the restaurant, just having spoken to a decently famous man who set you up to be his friend’s potential sugar baby. You had no idea how your life went from 0-100 this quickly. You were in shock. With everything you had been worrying about in your life, it was actually kind of nice worrying about something less serious like this whole Sugar Daddy situation for a change. Maybe you should treat this as a game of sorts like David said and just have some fun. What’s the worst that could happen. David Rossi, a famous author who caught criminals for a living, wouldn’t set you up with a dangerous person. Also, David thought you were good enough for his friend, so that felt like a compliment. You took a deep breath deciding to just go with the flow for a change. Looking down at the card David gave you. The date was scheduled for a week from now. Which gave you some time to figure out how you would go about this. You got on your phone and ordered an Uber to take you home.

You were nervous. It had been a long time since you went on a date. You had never gone anywhere as fancy as the restaurant you were meeting Aaron at, and you damn well couldn’t afford it. Part of you was glad you had a week to figure out what to wear. The other part of you didn’t like having a whole week to overthink everything. However, your life didn’t give you much of a chance to sit around and worry about your upcoming date. Your week was filled with you applying for any and every scholarship application you qualified for. Then there was work, which wasn’t paying anywhere near what they should have been. You applied to at least twenty places. They didn’t seem like they would pan out. You did have a few classes, but you had slowed down a bit on your course load while waiting to figure out what you would do financially. You couldn’t help but think your slight indecisiveness on picking a specific major was a small blessing because it helped keep costs down for the time being. The week just seemed like the perfect example of why having a Sugar Daddy would make your life so much easier.

The day of the date had arrived. You wanted to be there early, considering you would have to play a game of ‘Where’s Waldo’. Getting dressed in an outfit that you deemed nice enough to wear on this date. You stood in the mirror and readjusted your clothes over a dozen times. You patted your cheeks to try to help calm your nerves as you stared at your reflection. You took a deep breath and then finally left your apartment. You were about half an hour early. It seemed like a bit much, but you want to scope the place out before your date arrives. Also, hoping the extra time would help you chill out a bit. You walk into the restaurant already feeling your nerves going crazy. Stepping over to the side, wringing your hands as you looked around. The restaurant just seemed to have the typical groups of society's elite. Everything was bright and shiny. It made you not want to touch anything. There was expensive, breakable artwork scattered about, which made you want to stand still out of fear of breaking something. It wasn’t overly crowded, at least, so that was a small comfort. Your first scan of the room you didn’t notice anything that drew your attention. But you were also nervous enough that you were getting distracted by the wait staff scurrying about. So after you calmed down a bit more, you took a second scan of the room. It was just the same groups you noticed before until your eyes landed on a table off to the side with one lone man sitting there.

You didn’t know how you missed this table the first time you looked. The man seemed a bit older than you. He had dark hair and was dressed up, but not as much as the other people that littered the room. Even from a distance, you could seem that his brows were tightly knit together. Despite the scowl carved onto his face, he still looked very handsome. He looked like he didn’t want to be here. Something inside you told you he was the man you were here to meet. You willed your feet to move, trying to ignore the anxiety still building inside you. You walked over to the table. He had been handsome from a distance, but the closer you got, the more you realized just how attractive you found him. You also started to see how stiff he was sitting. He looked so serious. He intimidated you. You weren’t sure if you actually had the courage to talk to him. You had been staring for a while, and he was bound to notice any minute. Right as you were about to turn tail and run, that was the moment he decided to look in your direction. You froze in place, probably looking just like a deer in headlights. His eyes narrowed, and he started glaring at you. You swallowed hard and tried to speak, “H...Hello.” You sounded timider then you wanted to. Trying to steady your voice, you cleared your throat before you continued speaking, “Are you Aaron?” He studied your face, “Yes.” Once he finished analyzing you, his face softened slightly, “You must be, [Y/N] then” Aaron automatically stood up and reached out to shake your hand. You offered a smile before reaching out and returning the gesture. Your mind temporarily goes blank when you feel his calloused hand in yours. When the handshake was finished, you both sat down at the table. You train of thought slowly coming back to you.

You pulled nervously at your collar, trying to figure out how to proceed. Aaron was still stiff. The glare on his face hadn't gone away. It was utterly silent, and the tension at the table kept growing. It was so bad that when the waiter brought you both a glass of water, they didn't linger at the table to ask anything. In order to do something, you pick the menu up off the table, looking it over. As soon as you see the prices, however, your eyes go wide. You had a rule of thumb whenever you went on any date that you didn’t order anything you couldn’t pay for. Everything on this menu was completely out of your price range. You put the menu back down. Aaron takes notice and raises his eyebrow inquisitively. You gave a nervous chuckle, “I’m actually not that hungry.” You don't know why you felt the need to lie, but none the less you did. He narrowed his eyes at you, studying you again. You felt like he was trying to read you constantly. You couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t like you or was suspicious, or maybe he still didn’t want to be here. Aaron pushed his menu to the side. His features softening as he has an almost apologetic look on his face, “I didn’t pick the place. Rossi did.” You let out a slight sigh of relief, “Good. I didn’t want to sound like an asshole and bring up that this place is a bit… much. I’m sure it’s nice, of course. Just not really my thing.” You chuckle nervously. For a split second, a ghost of a smile shows on Aaron’s face, “It’s not my kind of place either.” The tension and atmosphere made this feel like a business meeting, and you didn’t like it. The feeling bothered you so much that it prompted you to speak up, “Would you hate it if we went somewhere else then? This just feels so formal.” Aaron nods, “Where do you have in mind?” You can’t help but laugh as you get up from the table, “I have no idea. Some fresh air should help me start thinking straight.” You wait for him to stand up. You start walking away from the table, but suddenly you stop. This place was stressing you out more than you thought because you almost forgot. You dig into your pocket and pull out your wallet. It was a bit emptier than you would like, but that didn't stop you from pulling some money out of your wallet and leaving it on the table. Aaron watches you. You could tell what he was about to ask, or at least what he was wondering. So you answer before he has a chance to say anything, “I know we didn’t really order anything, but they still waited on us. They’ll have to clean the table and stuff as well. Plus, this place might be fancy, but wait staff usually don't get paid well.” You offer a smile before turning around and heading out of the restaurant.

As soon as you get outside, you can already feel yourself relaxing even more. As you take a deep breath of fresh air, you fully realize how much anxiety was fogging up your thoughts. You turn to Aaron and watch him walk out of the building. He still looks so rigid and uptight. This had scared you before, but now after watching him for a while, you concluded that this was just how he was. This realization is enough to boost your confidence a bit. You smile at him, “I know this local food truck.” You check your phone for the time quickly before putting it away, “They should be fairly close by.” Aaron watches you for a while. You couldn’t read his expression. It still just looked like a scowl. Once again, you found yourself questioning whether that was just how he was or if he didn’t like you. Your nerves get the better of you, so you started to backtrack, “That's only if you still want to get dinner… with me.” You pause for a second, not giving him time to answer, “It’s okay if you don’t want to.” You start chewing on the inside of your cheek. He motions for you to lead the way, “No, That sounds fine.” You smile and begin navigating the streets until you find where the food truck is customarily parked this time of night.

You stop when you reach your destination. There is a small line just because of the time of night, but the area isn't overly crowded. You already know what you want, but you motion Aaron to the extensive menu on the truck's side, “Once you figure out what you want, I can order for us.” You smile. Aaron gives you a stern nod. Part of you was surprised he didn’t slip away while you were leading him here. He didn’t exactly seem to be having a great time. Aaron seemed like the type who would be too nice to say he wasn’t enjoying himself, and he would just tough it out. Aaron finds what he wants and tells you. He makes a face, “Do you pay after you get the food then?” You tilt your head confused for a second, and then realize that he expects to pay because of the date's whole arrangement. Which you supposed that made sense, but you didn't feel right doing that to anyone. So in response, you just nod your head. Clearly, it was unconvincing because he narrowed his eyes at you. You slipped away and stood in line before he could say anything. What you didn't plan for was he decided to follow you and stood in line with you. You narrow your eyes at him, and he glances over at you out of the corner of his eye. Aaron’s eyes looked almost playful. You can't help but smile as you quietly ask him, “Are you challenging me to a bill race?” You could have sworn you had seen Aaron smirking before he spoke, “I don’t know what you're talking about.” He looked borderline happy, and it was a good look on him. You playfully scoff, “Good luck.”

You already had a plan, and you were going to beat Aaron at this pay race. You knew the people who ran this place, but you weren't going to reveal your secret weapon. You knew a card would be much faster to pay with, so you slipped it out of your wallet and into your hand while waiting in line. When you both got to the front of the line, you smiled when you saw Evie, the motherly woman who ran the food truck. She looked tired but smiled back at you, “The usual?” You nod happily, “Yes, please. But I’m adding his food to my order.” You tell Evie what Aaron had said he wanted. Evie presses the total and does what she always does and gives you a student discount. Evie turns her back to you, “I’m going to trust that you won't jump over the counter like you normally do because you have a guest.” You can feel Aaron giving you a look. You laugh nervously and glance at him, “It’s not as bad as she is making it sound.” Once Evie gets involved enough in cooking your food, you do what you always do. You hop up enough, so your front half is through the order window, and your fingers can press the buttons on the register. You could feel Aaron’s glare as he probably thought you were doing something immoral. You quickly remove the discount from your total, making sure you're paying full price, “You should know better than to trust me like that, Evie. I refuse to let you discount my food.” Evie whips around, glaring at you. You huff as you have to reach further to swipe your card and press the accept button before Evie can fix it. Evie smacks your arm in an annoyed fashion. You wince and drop out of the food truck's ordering window. Evie glares down at you, “You're a student… It's a student discount.” You shrug and smile at her, “Raise your prices, and I’ll think about letting you give me a discount, but currently, you're not charging enough, in my opinion.” Evie shakes her head at you before cracking a smile, rolling her eyes as she goes back to cooking, “You're lucky I like you.” You go to put your card away, “Thanks for putting up with me.” You know you didn't really have the extra money, but you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so ignoring your close to empty wallet, you pull out a few extra dollars. Waiting until Evie isn't looking so you can stick it in her tip jar. If she saw you doing that, you’d get yelled at again. Evie finished both of your meals. Before she hands them to you, she eyes the tip jar. You were predictable, so Evie knew to check every time you ordered food from her. Evie glared straight at you. You raise your hands defensively, and when Evie’s glare intensified, you did something fairly childish. You point at Aaron, not so discreetly motioning your head in his direction to blame him for the money that appeared in her tip jar. Evie shakes her head as she finally hands the food over.

You walk over to a table and sit down. Aaron sits across you with a smirk on his face, “Really? You tried to blame me?” He started to look like he was enjoying himself. You make a playfully guilty face, “You saw how she is.” You start laughing, not even able to keep the fake guilty look on your face. Aaron chuckles. You smile and add, “Plus, I couldn't let you win.” Aaron shakes his head in an amused manner. With that, both of you start eating dinner. When both of you finished eating, Aaron looked at his watch. He gets a conflicted look on his face, “It’s getting late.” It was pretty late, and you weren't sure what else you two could do on this date, but you were slightly disappointed that it had to end. You nod, “I guess it is…” You smile, “I had a great time, though.” Aaron nodded, “It did go a lot better than expected.” You were thinking of how to ask him if he wanted to do this again or if maybe you two should exchange numbers. Aaron seems to have read your thoughts. His eyebrows knitted together, “But… I don’t think we should do this again.” Your breath catches in your throat. You were surprised. You had thought it was going well after leaving the restaurant. You stumble over your words, “I...Uhh…Okay.” You were confused and wanted to ask what the issue was, but then part of you just blamed the circumstances of you both meeting. Aaron's frown sets further into his face, “You seem great…” You narrow your eyes waiting for him to continue. Aaron looks apologetic, “I’ve never been in a ‘situation’ like this. You must have better options waiting for you.” You couldn't help but laugh, “I've never done this before either.”

Now Aaron looked confused, “But you’re-” You interrupt him, “I casually agreed to it a week ago. That same night my friend dragged me to meet David.” Aaron scans your face, trying to read you, “You ‘casually agreed’ to be a sugar baby?” You had both been dancing around that topic all night, but he cut through the pretense quickly, seeming suspicious now. You press your lips into a straight line and let out a heavy sigh, “Absentminded might be a better term.” Aaron looked extremely skeptical, not accepting that as the full answer. You let out another sigh trying to figure out how to explain it, “I’ve been having some issues trying to pay-” You stop yourself, not wanting to get into that whole mess, “I’ve been having financial problems. My friend, Oliva, got tired of me complaining about it and ‘being a major bummer’. So she brought up becoming a sugar baby because that's what she and my other friend, Mason, do for a living.” You pause, taking a chance to look at Aaron’s face. His demeanor hasn’t budged at all. You felt like you were being interrogated, helping you understand the phrase ‘if looks could kill’. You swallow hard and continue, “She had brought it up a billion times before, but it didn’t seem like the thing for me. I hate being that dependent on people. Makes me feel weird. But the problem was weighing on me enough that I said ‘what the fuck, what's the worst that could happen.’” You roll your eyes, remembering the next part, “The next thing I know, Oliva is literally dragging me out of the place we were at talking about how she was taking me to meet someone famous about the whole sugar daddy thing. Once I met David, we had maybe a thirty-minute conversation before he gave me only your first name with where and when to meet for the date.” Aaron looks beyond annoyed. You thought he was annoyed at you until he let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “God damn it, Dave.” Aaron mumbled mostly under his breath. When he looked back up, his face had softened drastically, “He didn’t tell me anything either.” You offer a nervous smile, “Both our friends are assholes.” He nodded in agreement. You rub the back of your neck, “I never do anything like this. Oliva kinda just rushed me into it, but I figured, why not?” Aaron watches you, looking conflicted again.

You can’t help but fidget under his gaze. After a long pause, he finally says something, “What are you having financial problems with?” You tried to avoid the question, “It’s not that big of a deal.” He still waits for you to answer. When you keep avoiding both answering and eye contact, Aaron questions you, “Are you lying about having problems then? Because you were more than willing to spend money tonight.” You only shake your head in response, biting at the inside of your cheek as you stubbornly refuse to answer. Aaron further tried to provoke a reaction out of you, “So you're a liar then?” He phrased it as a question but made it sound like he already thought you were a liar. Which got under your skin a bit, so you quickly spat out, “I’m not lying.” Aaron stares you down, “Then answer the question.” Part of you was startled by the tone he was using, but the other part of you knew he was just trying to find out more about you. You sigh, “I… A few extra dollars isn't going to fix my financial problems.” You pause, hoping that he will accept that as an answer. Aaron did not, waiting for you to elaborate. Taking a deep breath before you finally cave, “There is an issue with my scholarship for school and with my place of employment.” This time you weren't trying to avoid answering the question, but you were trying to avoid sounding like you were guilting him or looking for sympathy. Aaron reads your expression and stops the slightly aggressive questioning. He offers you a small smile after a moment, “I’m going to give you my phone number. We can go on another date and discuss things further.” You open your mouth to speak, but you're too surprised to find the words right away. You minorly collect yourself, “You don't have to…” Aaron shakes his head, “I want to. Overall I had a nice time.” He pauses, looking right at you, “To be honest, I was unsure about this whole situation and about you.” He optimistically raises his eyebrows, “I’ve come to the conclusion that you're trustworthy. You seem like a good person. Even though it's a bit more unorthodox then I’m used to, I’m willing to see where this goes if you are.” You can’t help but smile as you enthusiastically nod, “Yes. I… I would like that very much.” You both exchanged phone numbers before getting up from the table. Aaron walks you back to the restaurant your date started at.

Aaron stops before going to his car, “Do you need a ride?” You laugh and shake your head, “Nah, I can just Uber back to my place” Aaron makes a face before rolling his eyes, “Come on. I’m giving you a ride.” He didn’t leave much room for debate, so you comply. You chuckle, getting into the passenger seat of his car, “Your bossy.” Aaron starts the car and laughs, “I have been told that before.” After that, there isn't a whole lot of talking during the car ride. Just you giving Aaron directions to your apartment. The first date tension and awkwardness is still there between you two, but you did feel safe around him. Considering you just met him, you didn't have a bad feeling about getting into his car. When Aaron gets closer to your apartment, his scowl comes back. You were curious, “What's wrong?” He glances at you, “This isn't the best neighborhood.” You couldn’t tell if he was being protective of you already, or it was just general gentlemanly behavior or maybe even a mixture of the two. You thought it was sweet, though. Aaron was right. It was kind of a bad part of town. You shrug, “I suppose. I don’t think about it all that much.” He glances over at you again, this time judgment in his eyes. You roll your eyes dramatically, “But I still make sure to pay attention… I’m not naive.” Most of the judgment leaves Aaron’s eyes, but he still seems on edge about the area. When he finally gets to your place, you hopped out of his car, “Thanks for the ride.” Right as you're about to close the car door, you hear the engine turning off, followed by Aaron saying, “Not so fast.” Aaron gets out of the car, walking over to you. You raise an eyebrow at him. Aaron replies without you having to say anything, “I’m not letting you walk to your front door all by yourself.” You start walking and chuckle, “I walk to my front door all the time by myself.” Aaron walks by your side, giving you a halfhearted glare. You chuckle, playfully nudging him with your shoulder, “Thanks though, it’s sweet.” This earns you a smile from Aaron, which in a contagious fashion, causes you to smile as well. You reach your door and pull out your keys to unlock it. As you open the door and step into your apartment, you have an odd realization that if this had been a date with someone closer to your age, you’d have to worry about them assuming they were invited into your apartment for ‘coffee’. However, Aaron’s motivation was legitimately about your safety. It was a nice change from other people you had dealt with. Getting another sudden boost of confidence, you turned around in your doorway to face Aaron, “Call me soon, okay?” Aaron smiles and nods, “Of course.” You smile back, “Goodnight, Aaron.” Aaron replies, “Goodnight, [Y/N].” He starts to walk away, and you close your door. As you locked the door and got ready for bed, you couldn't help but think about what a rollercoaster the last few hours had been.

Beginning of Unconventional – Peer Pressure* – Second Date

Tags: @joyofbebbanburg @withyoutilltheendofthismess @marvel-is-my-life-blog

[missjanjie]

Santa Ana Winded | Gottrosé

Title: Santa Ana Winded Summary: Rosé is visiting Los Angeles just as the infamous Santa Ana Winds are kicking into high gear. On paper, that's fine, but staying with Mik certainly isn't going to make handling the potential effects of the 'devil winds' any easier. Word Count: 1823 Relationship(s): Gottrosé (Rosé/Gottmik) Rating: E

and thank you to @nickysjaida for beta-ing! ♥

read on ao3 | ko-fi

“Where are you staying, again?” Jan asked as he helped Rosé finish packing.

Rosé smiled as he propped the suitcase against the wall. “I’m staying with Mik. You know, he lives in that fancy house with all those influencers, and he was so insistent with that cute, little LA vocal fry, it’s impossible to say no to.”

Jan arched his brow – he knew his friend and he knew that smile. “You better watch yourself, sis,” he warned. “Especially going this time of year, that’s when the Santa Ana winds start hitting hard.”

“Why is that relevant?”

“They call them the Devil Winds,” he explained. “It’s known to cause weird dreams, usually about your deepest desires and fears. It also triggered the shit out of my allergies, but that’s not the point. It might cause you to act a little impulsive, is all I’m saying.”

Rosé’s brows rose in curiosity. “The fuck were you dreaming about at summer camp, huh?”

Jan blushed and cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter because unlike during season twelve, I wouldn’t have had the chance to even consider acting on it, and I was having normal dreams on the plane home,” he said flatly. “You, however, are going in a lot more vulnerable to those devil winds,” he teased.

He scoffed. “Fuck off, I don’t even have allergies. And I think I’ll be able to control myself… you know, as long as I don’t drink,” he murmured. He was well aware that Jan and the whole internet knew what happened when he and Mik were left alone with alcohol.

“That’s a tall order for you, babe. Good luck.”

------

By the time Rosé landed in LAX, he had stopped thinking about Jan’s warnings about the wind. Jan was known to be dramatic, after all. He was sure his friend was just getting him riled up for no reason, or using it to justify whatever sex dreams he’d had about a certain other NYC queen, not that he was going to name names, but he could’ve.

It didn’t take long before he spotted Mik, but he’d only taken a few steps in his direction before the other queen came barrelling towards him at full speed, launching himself into Rosé’s open arms.

“Hi, baby,” Rosé greeted with a fond laugh, picking Mik up and spinning him around quickly, then carefully setting him back down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you so much, gorge,” Mik grinned as they made their way out of the airport. “This is gonna be so much fun. We should go live, the fans always go nuts for that,” he suggested. Once they stepped outside, he winced. “Fuck, it’s still windy as hell.”

Rosé nodded, “ah, the infamous Santa Ana Winds,” he observed as he loaded his luggage into the trunk of Mik’s car. “Jan gave me a whole warning about them. Do they actually fuck with your head and all of that?”

“I guess it, like, depends on your mental state or whatever. Last year we had to talk Gigi out of buying a plane ticket to Missouri, she was feeling it real heavy, like, she was either going to pull some teen romance stunt with Crystal or murder her boyfriend,” he explained with a casual flippancy as they made the drive back to his house. “Why, you worried the devil winds are gonna come for you?”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, gaze avoidant. “No, just wanna be prepared for whatever chaos I’m walking into, you know? Knowing you, I could be walking in on an orgy or a crime scene.”

“I don’t see the problem here, gorge,” Mik retorted flippantly as he pulled up in front of the house.

Rosé laughed softly as he got out and grabbed his things. “Of course you don’t,” he retorted with a dry laugh as he followed him inside.

------

As it turned out, Rosé’s resolve not to drink was weak. He wouldn’t claim that he gave in to the peer pressure of a group of young twenty-somethings, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t allow himself to give in so his mind and body would shut up.

But he had fun, Mik was a good time and the group of them knew how to party without being over the top. Nothing happened between him and Mik throughout the night beyond some too-close, sloppy, dancing, so he went to bed that night considering it a success.

It wasn’t long before Rosé fell asleep, the powerful gusts of wind serving to soothe him. The way the palm trees creaked and rattled from the relentless devil winds turned into little more than white noise. The dream that followed, however, played out what he had prevented in reality.

The dream wasn’t coherent and linear, but the content was clear – he was in bed with Mik, both of them naked. Their hands and mouths were all over each other, moans spilling from their lips. It felt real, too real.

When he jolted awake, Rosé swore he could still feel Mik’s fingers lingering on his skin. His face and chest were bright red and his breathing was heavy. He looked under the covers and groaned at the tent that was pitched in his boxers.

Before Rosé could address the situation at hand, he heard the bedroom door creak open and he quickly repositioned himself on his side to cover his erection. “Mik?” he squinted his eyes as he tried to see through the darkness, adjusting enough to make out the familiar frame.

“Oh, perf, you’re awake.” Mik’s voice normally had such a casual nonchalance about it, but when he spoke this time, there seemed to be a mix of both strain and relief. “Look, I know this is gonna sound fucking lame as shit, but I had a, um…” he shook his head, just getting the words out was impossible with the strength of his pride.

“A dream, perchance?” Rosé chuckled softly and ran a hand through his hair, “because that would make two of us.”

The tension left Mik’s body and a spark of confidence took its place. “So, you feel it too,” it was somewhere between a question and an observation, but he didn’t wait for Rosé to clarify. He crawled onto the bed and straddled his lap, his eyes instantly going wide. “It really was the same dream, huh?” he smirked.

Rosé couldn’t even be embarrassed when he met Mik’s eyes, the lust he saw in them erasing any emotion beyond unbridled desire. Logic and reason were gone with the wind and the next thing he knew, his hands were on Mik’s face and he was pulling him into a kiss. It was deep and heated, their tongues swirled together and their hands tangled in each other’s hair.

Very few words were spoken – if they talked, they might start overthinking and psyche themselves out. They were already in too deep, there was no turning back now. It was too fast, fervent, clothes were being tossed aside in every direction. The only time they came up for air was when Mik reached into the end table drawer to grab lube and a condom.

They switched positions, Rosé rolling on top of Mik. He took the bottle of lube and slicked up two fingers, working in one, then another. His eyes were trained on Mik’s face, watching for any expression that he should stop. Instead, he watched his face contort in pleasure and listened to the moans that spilled from his lips.

Mik took the condom that was still on the bed and tore it open with his teeth, then rolled it down Rosé’s length. “This is your last chance to back out,” he warned, though there was a clear, unspoken ‘please don’t’.

“I’m not,” Rosé assured. He had already gotten to this point and god, he was aching to see it through. He carefully eased into him, one hand guiding his length while the other steadied himself by holding onto Mik’s waist. He let out a grunt as he bottomed out, then slowly picked up a steady thrusting pace.

“Fuck…” Mik exhaled in a breathy moan. His hips bucked up, picking up the rhythm of Rosé’s thrusts and writhing in tandem. He didn’t realize just how deeply and intensely his lust for him ran until it culminated in that moment. His fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulder blades, blunt nails still leaving indentations.

Even during sex, little was said between them beyond whispers of praise or dirty talk. Their moans and whines were loud and passionate, culminating sharply when they rode out their orgasms in tandem.

Rosé had to catch his breath before he pulled out, rolling the condom off his length and throwing it away. He laid back down and stared up at the ceiling, heavy breathing and wind blowing the only noises remaining.

Mik shifted over to Rosé, wrapping his arms around him and resting his head on his chest. “I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured. “Just… don’t say it.”

And Mik was right, so he didn’t.

------

“You’re looking pretty guilty,” Jan observed as he sat with Rosé during the uber ride back from the airport. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with a certain LA-based season thirteen drag queen?”

“Nope, I didn’t even see Symone.”

Jan crossed his arms and arched his brow. “Come on, Rosie…”

Rosé groaned, getting out of the car and grabbing his luggage from the trunk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted before they walked up and took the elevator into his apartment. It wasn’t until they were alone in his bedroom that he sighed and confessed, “I had sex with Mik.”

Even though Jan suspected as much, hearing his friend make that confession still caught him by surprise. “Oh shit,” he gasped softly. “What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t fucking know!” he ran his hand through his hair as he paced back and forth across his bedroom. “How am I supposed to explain that I ignored the very clear instruction of ‘do not hook up with Mik’? I know being stupid is part of my brand, but this is crossing a line that I don’t know if I can bounce back from if I even deserve it.”

Jan stopped Rosé by grabbing onto his shoulders. “Listen to me, whatever happens, however it turns out, I’m gonna be here for you,” he promised. “I’ve gotta head out now, but I will drop everything in an instant if you need me, okay?” and after they exchanged goodbyes, he was on his way.

Rosé rubbed his face and stared at himself in the mirror. He shook his head, then his heart dropped to his stomach when he heard the front door rattling, then opening. “I’ll be right there, baby!” he called out, then refocused his gaze at his reflection. “You ruined everything, you stupid bitch.”

[crashdevlin]

Satisfied- Ch. 15

Author’s Note: Happily Ever Eventually Masterlist, Satisfied Masterlist 

Summary: Dr. McCaullife tells Y/n to get closure, which leads to confrontations across the board.

Pairing: none 

Word Count: 3106

Chapter Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of mental breakdown, mentions of self-harm, mentions of noncon touching, bit of PTSD (it's a syndrome not a disorder😂🤣...in joke from another series), 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

My house is fairly small. I don’t need a lot of room. I spent more on the security system than anything, really. It’s a good one...a bajillion cameras running to a computer in my office closet, a doorbell cam going to my phone, a sensor on every door and window. I would love to say that I didn’t have Tom in mind when I bought it, but I was thinking of him more than I was thinking of paps and creepy fans. 

He had to stay in Texas due to the probation agreement, so he bought a house, too. A converted barn on the outskirts of Henly...an hour away from my home. Too close. Too close for any sort of comfort...but the ADA assured me that he was going to adhere to the protection order. So, I spent a lot of money on a security system.

When my doorbell went off and I looked at my phone to see Danneel standing on my porch, my stomach twisted. I just got rid of Jay, sent him home from New Orleans to be with his wife and then she shows up on my porch? How’d she even know where I live? *Guess this is my opportunity to get done with her, too.*

I opened the door and bit my lip as I looked at her. She had her hair down and scrunched up in sexy waves. She really is incredibly beautiful. I will never think anything else. “Hey, sweetie,” she greeted, smiling softly. “Can I come in?” I nodded and stepped back, closing the door as she set her purse on my loveseat and turned to me. “This is a cute place. You chose well.”

“Figure I don’t need a lot of space. Just enough for me and the kids on the occasion I get to see them.” I took a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest. “What can I do for you, Danneel?”

“Jay told me about your fight at the con and-”

“That wasn’t a fight,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “That wasn’t even a disagreement.”

“Sweetie,” she started, but I sighed and caught her eyes.

“No. Please, listen.” I took another breath and looked away from her. “I’m not mad. I haven’t wanted to fight. That’s why I didn’t reach out to you after I saw the video. That’s why I shut down...and shutting down wasn’t the best way to deal with it, but still, I never wanted to fight.”

“But isn’t Jay worth fighting for, Y/n?”

That sentence sent rage zipping through my chest, but I took another breath. Calm myself, move forward. “No one is worth that much fighting. Especially if they’re not willing to fight for me. He wanted you back, Dee. I was always the consolation prize.”

“He loves you.”

“I wish that were enough...but it wasn’t enough to keep him from cheating on me.” Her face fell and I could see she wanted to argue the word ‘cheating’ so I kept talking. “You both knew I didn’t want you touching each other while I was gone...and tell me that you honestly didn’t see that I had a lot of regrets after we fucked. Tell me you didn’t know that it was probably never going to happen again...and that’s why you took the opportunity while I was gone.”

She looked down, avoiding my gaze. “Jensen and I-”

“Danneel, it’s okay.” I smiled and swallowed down my residual sadness. “Seriously. You don’t have to feel guilty here, hon. You and Jensen never stopped loving each other. That’s a fact. I just got in the way of what never should have ended in the first place. I’m moving on. I’ll find someone eventually, but for now...you and Jensen should be together. You always should have been.”

“Y/n, you deserve-”

“I deserve to move on,” I snapped, before licking my lips and stepping closer. “You and Jensen need to be together...and I need to be alone for a while. So...don’t feel bad. Don’t apologize. Don’t try to get me to fight...because I’m done fighting.”

She started crying as I hugged her, but I just felt relief. It was done. Finally, there was closure. She’d leave my house and go back to Jensen and everything would be done. A short time later she did just that...and I sat on my couch and wiped my eyes and...did some affirmations and moved forward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Closure on two fronts. That’s good,” Dr. McCauliffe said at my appointment the Monday after.

“Yeah. Now I just need closure with Nate and Tom and maybe I’ll be well-adjusted some day,” I said sarcastically.

“You should,” she encouraged, leaning forward.

“Wait...what?”

“You should have a sit-down with Tom and with Nate. You have grievances. You should air them.”

I scoffed and shook my head. “A sit-down with Tom is almost impossible. There are protections in place to keep that from happening and besides, you...you don’t want me interacting with Tom.”

“Not through text messages from unknown numbers when you’re feeling numb and broken. That was unhealthy. With you like this? Making breakthroughs and getting closure? That can only help.” She tapped her pen against her clipboard and smiled. “I’m sure there’s a way for you to meet with Tom, with protections, and clear the air a bit.”

“Clear the air. What would I even say to him? What would I even...How could I even talk to him without letting my brain go back to…” I rolled my shoulders back and ran my hand across my mouth.

“You talked to Jensen without an issue. You stood your ground twice, under stressful circumstances, and you came out the other side. I feel like you could handle this with grace. And I will be right here to help with any fallout that might occur. Okay?"

It took a lot of cajoling from Dr. McCauliffe, and some from Misha and Kim, but eventually I decided that it might not be the worst idea for my mental health if I got some closure with Nate. If that worked, I might go for closure with Tom...with a bodyguard and some lawyers and a knife in my pocket, just in case. 

I flew to Florida and took an Uber to Nate’s house. I had the driver wait, offered a $100 tip, and went up to the door. Jenny answered. I fought down a wave of anger at the sight of her. She used to be a friend. She was Nate’s friend first, a girl he told me was ‘one of the guys’ and not to worry about. I made friends to prove I wasn’t worried. I should have always been worried about Nate.

“It’s not your weekend,” she snapped.

“I’m not here for Nova. I’m here to talk to Nate.”

She scoffed and turned around to look at her husband, who was walking up from the living room. “It’s okay, Jen. I got this,” Nate said, stepping outside and shutting the door. “Sorry, she’s been kinda worried that you might decide you wanna come steal me back ever since she found out you and Jensen broke up.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a homewrecker. That’s her job.”

“Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Don’t talk about my wife like-”

"Your wife cheated on her husband with my husband, ruined two families, and displaced three children all while smiling across the table at me during game nights and pretending she had never sucked your cock. She is as much a liar and a slut as you."

Nate's eyes went huge as I spoke. I really wasn't expecting to explode like that, but years of bubbling anger, I guess. 

"What the hell, Y/n? You flew in from Texas to call me and Jenny names?"

"No, I flew in from Texas for closure. My shrink thinks it's a good idea to get the shit I've been holding back off my chest so I came to talk to you. Honestly? Probably never woulda said a word against Jenny if she hadn't answered the door, but she did." I shrugged. "Too late now."

"What could you possibly have left to get off your chest?"

"Do you even realize how poorly you treated me? No, I'm sure you can't be that delusional. Do you even care?" I took a deep breath and looked up into his eyes. Blue just like Tom. *Gotta get a brown-eyed boy next time. Haven't been fucked over by a brown-eyed guy yet. No. No guys. No dating. Just me.* "I loved you with everything in me, Nate. You were everything to me, and you used that, used me to make yourself feel better, to make your friends laugh at the stupid fat girl who didn't realize you were fucking around. I know Jenny wasn't the first. And I bet she wasn't the last, either. Bet you got a few skeletons hiding from her too. Because you don't change. You're the same exact piece of shit you were when we were in high school...and Jenny knows that or she wouldn't be so scared that you would run away with your ex-wife. Not that I'd ever take you."

He scoffed in anger and I laughed. "I've had literal models in my bed, Nate. How delusionally narcissistic do you have to be to think that I would take a pencil-dicked, scruffy-faced, beatnik-looking motherfucker like you back?" Well, that was almost Tara-levels of confidence. When did that happen? "Look, I know you never loved me. I'm not delusional anymore, but I keep hoping that you'll love Nova...she's part of you, that should play right into your narcissism, but the way you use her like a tool, like a weapon against me...I don't think you love her any more than you loved me. And if you damage her, I will bury you."

He scoffed again. "You couldn't even win custody cause you're so unstable. What do you think you could do?"

"I didn't say I'd bury you in court." My voice was calm, with an edge of threatening. "You damage my daughter and I will do whatever I feel appropriate to pay you back." I was walking away when a final burn hit my mind. “It must be heartbreaking to you that the only thing you have the least in common with Jensen is that neither of you could keep it in your fucking pants.”

Dr. McCauliffe was right. Getting everything off my chest was freeing. I hadn’t even gotten on the plane back to Texas before I was on the phone with my lawyer. “What do you mean, you want a meeting with him? The man tried to rape you! There’s a restraining order on him and a-”

“I have to talk to him. That’s all. Lawyers present, a bodyguard or a cop in the room. I have things I need to say...Things I need to tell him so that I can get on with my life. Please, make it happen.”

“This is a bad idea.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it’s my bad idea, so...make it happen.”

And he did. He got me in a meeting with Tom at my lawyer’s office, a security guard and both lawyers present. 

I wore jeans, a baggy long-sleeved blouse, and I had my hair back and out of my face. I wasn’t there to look pretty. I was there for that closure.

My heart started pounding when I walked into that room and saw him. Obviously I wasn’t even close to over what he did...which is why I needed to talk to him about it. I sat across from him at a table in a conference room and my mind couldn’t help but replay being pressed into a long wooden table in the courthouse conference room, with a silk tie shoved in my mouth and my ass stinging. I took a deep breath and sighed it out as I sat down.

“I’d like to point out that I told my client that this was a bad idea,” Tom’s lawyer said.

“I told my client the same. She insisted,” my lawyer responded.

Tom smiled and my breath hitched. I was suddenly struck with the thought that I wasn’t ready for this. Maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe I should just walk out...but I’d already come so far. I averted my eyes from his, looked at the table instead. “My psychiatrist thought this would be a good thing for me. That I deserved closure.”

“Closure? You mean to say you’re completely done with me and want nothing to do with me in the future?” Tom’s voice made me shiver. “I have heard that one before...and you always text back eventually...Dear.”

“Closure means asking you ‘why’ and telling you all the ways you’ve hurt me, getting everything off of my chest so that I don’t have any regrets of things I should have said...and don’t call me that.”

“Why? Why what?” Tom asked and I looked up. Did he really not know?

“Why...our relationship, Tom. Our whole relationship and the way you treated me afterward. Why? Why did you treat me like that? Why did you try to own me? Why did you manipulate and hurt me? Why did you tell the world that Maverick was your son when you knew that you couldn’t be his father? Why did you make it seem like I was a cheating whore when you knew I wouldn’t cheat after what Nate did to me? Why did you try to rape me? Why?”

Tom sighed and looked to his lawyer, then back to me. “I’ve never met a woman like you, Y/n. You create these feelings in me that...I tamp them down with other women. You make me want to possess you. I knew the moment I saw you that I had to have you...completely. You’re the only woman I’ve ever possessed that way...and you did like it for a while, I know you did. I remember the way your body reacted-”

“That was in bed! You tried to take over my whole life and when I left you, you tried to ruin my life.”

“I wasn’t trying to ruin your life, I was trying to get you to interact with me. I was certain that you’d remember how you loved me if I got you away from Jensen. And look what happened. He left you, you started talking to me again.”

“He didn’t leave me. He cheated and I didn’t let him talk to me after,” I argued. I licked my lips and looked away, shaking my head. “I started talking to you because I was in a horrible place and I didn’t think I had anyone in my corner. I hated who I was and I thought it was a good idea to talk to someone who saw who I could be. It was a bad decision, just like the decision to date you in the first place.”

“But you were willing to talk to me when you were without Jensen’s influence. That’s all I was trying to do with the lawsuit. Of course I knew Maxwell isn’t my son but-”

“His name’s Maverick,” I snapped. “You never called Nova by her middle name, why do you insist on calling Mav by his?”

He shrugged. “I know that Jensen named that child. He’s an attractive young boy, deserves an appropriate name.”

“What about the rape?” I asked. “If all you wanted was to get me away from Jensen, why would you-”

“I saw you enter that room, there were several twitter accounts posting pics from inside the courthouse and...you were alone. For the first time in months, you were alone, so I went in to talk to you without Jensen or Jared running interference. I just wanted to talk, but...you got so defensive as soon as I walked in...and you called me a psycho.” He looked down and took a deep breath. “I just wanted you to remember that you loved me. That I could give you the things that you needed. Jensen never dominated you, never made you submit. I just wanted you to remember how you liked that...how you liked me. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted you back."

I shook my head. "That wasn't the way to go about it, Tom. None of this was the way to go about it. I understand going a bit crazy over someone, but you...you went too far. Way too far. I wanted to love you, but you wanted to own me, and that's not the same." I stood and gave him a tight smile. "I'm glad you agreed to meet with me so that we could talk. Because I'm gonna say, with absolutely no doubt or question, I am done, Tom, and it's not because I'm with Jensen because I'm not. It's because you don't love me and you need to move on...because I don't love you. Okay?"

I started to walk out but I stopped at the door when something in the security guard's hand caught my attention. "You should get help, too, Tom. Therapy has done wonders for me. Have a good life."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You should have recorded it!" Misha exclaimed when I told him about the meeting. "You should have recorded the whole thing! Then you could have released it to the media! Everyone would have seen him for the monster he is!"

"And then I would get in trouble for recording him without his consent and it would have blown back on me." I shook my head and chuckled, taking a drink of my Old Fashioned. "That security guard is gonna buy a brand new car when he sells the video he took, though."

Blue eyes popped wide on my laptop screen as he grinned in surprise. The blue eyes I can trust. "The security guard was videoing?"

"Yeah. I noticed on my way out, so I added a little flare at the end. I high-roaded and told him to get help. Therapy has done wonders for me."

"So video is gonna hit of him admitting to all the horrible things he did?"

"Yup. I don't know...kinda feels like it's finally over, ya know? I finally feel like I can move on."

"I'm glad. I'm happy that you can finally move forward and be happy too."

I hummed and nodded. “Happy sounds like a good goal. For now, we’ll call it ‘content’ or...Satisfied.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stay tuned for Another Second Chance, coming soon!

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth​​ @flamencodiva​​ @wasabiwitteks​​ @rainbowkisses31​​ @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661​​ @officiallyunofficialperson​​ @dolphincliffs​​ @mrs-meghan-winchester​​ @gayspacenerd​​ @foxyjwls007​​ @ilovefanfic86​​ @marvelfansworld​​ @f-yeahfandoms​​ @wonderlandfandomkingdom​​ @hhiggs​​ @sev3nruby​​  @hobby27​​ @paintballkid711​​ @divadinag​​ @thewhiterabbit42​​ @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark​​ @cosicas-cuquis​​ @superfanficnatural​​ @letsby​​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @swinchester27​​ @chalicia​​ @sunnyroadtrips​​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​ @death-unbecomes-you​​ Hunter Tags - @atc74​​ @sandlee44​​ @spnbaby-67​​ @kalesrebellion​​ @tumbler-tidbits​​ @hoboal87​​ @stoneyggirl​​ @kbl1313​​ @cookiechipdough​​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​​ @winchesterxfamilybusiness​​ @holylulusworld​​ @pretty-fortune​​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​ @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits​​ @imperiusimpala​​

Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm​​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​​ @jadesupernatural​​ @stoneyggirl​​ @4fareader​​ @squirrelnotsam​​ @lyarr24​​ @akshi8278​​ @pretty-fortune​​ @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits​​

Happily Ever Eventually Tags- @deanmonandnegansbitch​​ @jamielea81​​

[artificialqueens]

Santa Ana Winded (Gottrosé) - Joley

Summary: Rosé is visiting Los Angeles just as the infamous Santa Ana Winds are kicking into high gear. On paper, that’s fine, but staying with Mik certainly isn’t going to make handling the potential effects of the ‘devil winds’ any easier.

ao3 link

“Where are you staying, again?” Jan asked as he helped Rosé finish packing.

Rosé smiled as he propped the suitcase against the wall. “I’m staying with Mik. You know, he lives in that fancy house with all those influencers, and he was so insistent with that cute, little LA vocal fry, it’s impossible to say no to.”

Jan arched his brow – he knew his friend and he knew that smile. “You better watch yourself, sis,” he warned. “Especially going this time of year, that’s when the Santa Ana winds start hitting hard.”

“Why is that relevant?”

“They call them the Devil Winds,” he explained. “It’s known to cause weird dreams, usually about your deepest desires and fears. It also triggered the shit out of my allergies, but that’s not the point. It might cause you to act a little impulsive, is all I’m saying.”

Rosé’s brows rose in curiosity. “The fuck were you dreaming about at summer camp, huh?”

Jan blushed and cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter because unlike during season twelve, I wouldn’t have had the chance to even consider acting on it, and I was having normal dreams on the plane home,” he said flatly. “You, however, are going in a lot more vulnerable to those devil winds,” he teased.

He scoffed. “Fuck off, I don’t even have allergies. And I think I’ll be able to control myself… you know, as long as I don’t drink,” he murmured. He was well aware that Jan and the whole internet knew what happened when he and Mik were left alone with alcohol.

“That’s a tall order for you, babe. Good luck.”

——

By the time Rosé landed in LAX, he had stopped thinking about Jan’s warnings about the wind. Jan was known to be dramatic, after all. He was sure his friend was just getting him riled up for no reason, or using it to justify whatever sex dreams he’d had about a certain other NYC queen, not that he was going to name names, but he could’ve.

It didn’t take long before he spotted Mik, but he’d only taken a few steps in his direction before the other queen came barrelling towards him at full speed, launching himself into Rosé’s open arms.

“Hi, baby,” Rosé greeted with a fond laugh, picking Mik up and spinning him around quickly, then carefully setting him back down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you so much, gorge,” Mik grinned as they made their way out of the airport. “This is gonna be so much fun. We should go live, the fans always go nuts for that,” he suggested. Once they stepped outside, he winced. “Fuck, it’s still windy as hell.”

Rosé nodded, “ah, the infamous Santa Ana Winds,” he observed as he loaded his luggage into the trunk of Mik’s car. “Jan gave me a whole warning about them. Do they actually fuck with your head and all of that?”

“I guess it, like, depends on your mental state or whatever. Last year we had to talk Gigi out of buying a plane ticket to Missouri, she was feeling it real heavy, like, she was either going to pull some teen romance stunt with Crystal or murder her boyfriend,” he explained with a casual flippancy as they made the drive back to his house. “Why, you worried the devil winds are gonna come for you?”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, gaze avoidant. “No, just wanna be prepared for whatever chaos I’m walking into, you know? Knowing you, I could be walking in on an orgy or a crime scene.”

“I don’t see the problem here, gorge,” Mik retorted flippantly as he pulled up in front of the house.

Rosé laughed softly as he got out and grabbed his things. “Of course you don’t,” he retorted with a dry laugh as he followed him inside.

——

As it turned out, Rosé’s resolve not to drink was weak. He wouldn’t claim that he gave in to the peer pressure of a group of young twenty-somethings, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t allow himself to give in so his mind and body would shut up.

But he had fun, Mik was a good time and the group of them knew how to party without being over the top. Nothing happened between him and Mik throughout the night beyond some too-close, sloppy, dancing, so he went to bed that night considering it a success.

It wasn’t long before Rosé fell asleep, the powerful gusts of wind serving to soothe him. The way the palm trees creaked and rattled from the relentless devil winds turned into little more than white noise. The dream that followed, however, played out what he had prevented in reality.

The dream wasn’t coherent and linear, but the content was clear – he was in bed with Mik, both of them naked. Their hands and mouths were all over each other, moans spilling from their lips. It felt real, too real.

When he jolted awake, Rosé swore he could still feel Mik’s fingers lingering on his skin. His face and chest were bright red and his breathing was heavy. He looked under the covers and groaned at the tent that was pitched in his boxers.

Before Rosé could address the situation at hand, he heard the bedroom door creak open and he quickly repositioned himself on his side to cover his erection. “Mik?” he squinted his eyes as he tried to see through the darkness, adjusting enough to make out the familiar frame.

“Oh, perf, you’re awake.” Mik’s voice normally had such a casual nonchalance about it, but when he spoke this time, there seemed to be a mix of both strain and relief. “Look, I know this is gonna sound fucking lame as shit, but I had a, um…” he shook his head, just getting the words out was impossible with the strength of his pride.

“A dream, perchance?” Rosé chuckled softly and ran a hand through his hair, “because that would make two of us.”

The tension left Mik’s body and a spark of confidence took its place. “So, you feel it too,” it was somewhere between a question and an observation, but he didn’t wait for Rosé to clarify. He crawled onto the bed and straddled his lap, his eyes instantly going wide. “It really was the same dream, huh?” he smirked.

Rosé couldn’t even be embarrassed when he met Mik’s eyes, the lust he saw in them erasing any emotion beyond unbridled desire. Logic and reason were gone with the wind and the next thing he knew, his hands were on Mik’s face and he was pulling him into a kiss. It was deep and heated, their tongues swirled together and their hands tangled in each other’s hair.

Very few words were spoken – if they talked, they might start overthinking and psyche themselves out. They were already in too deep, there was no turning back now. It was too fast, fervent, clothes were being tossed aside in every direction. The only time they came up for air was when Mik reached into the end table drawer to grab lube and a condom.

They switched positions, Rosé rolling on top of Mik. He took the bottle of lube and slicked up two fingers, working in one, then another. His eyes were trained on Mik’s face, watching for any expression that he should stop. Instead, he watched his face contort in pleasure and listened to the moans that spilled from his lips.

Mik took the condom that was still on the bed and tore it open with his teeth, then rolled it down Rosé’s length. “This is your last chance to back out,” he warned, though there was a clear, unspoken ‘please don’t’.

“I’m not,” Rosé assured. He had already gotten to this point and god, he was aching to see it through. He carefully eased into him, one hand guiding his length while the other steadied himself by holding onto Mik’s waist. He let out a grunt as he bottomed out, then slowly picked up a steady thrusting pace.

“Fuck…” Mik exhaled in a breathy moan. His hips bucked up, picking up the rhythm of Rosé’s thrusts and writhing in tandem. He didn’t realize just how deeply and intensely his lust for him ran until it culminated in that moment. His fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulder blades, blunt nails still leaving indentations.

Even during sex, little was said between them beyond whispers of praise or dirty talk. Their moans and whines were loud and passionate, culminating sharply when they rode out their orgasms in tandem.

Rosé had to catch his breath before he pulled out, rolling the condom off his length and throwing it away. He laid back down and stared up at the ceiling, heavy breathing and wind blowing the only noises remaining.

Mik shifted over to Rosé, wrapping his arms around him and resting his head on his chest. “I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured. “Just… don’t say it.”

And Mik was right, so he didn’t.

——

“You’re looking pretty guilty,” Jan observed as he sat with Rosé during the uber ride back from the airport. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with a certain LA-based season thirteen drag queen?”

“Nope, I didn’t even see Symone.”

Jan crossed his arms and arched his brow. “Come on, Rosie…”

Rosé groaned, getting out of the car and grabbing his luggage from the trunk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted before they walked up and took the elevator into his apartment. It wasn’t until they were alone in his bedroom that he sighed and confessed, “I had sex with Mik.”

Even though Jan suspected as much, hearing his friend make that confession still caught him by surprise. “Oh shit,” he gasped softly. “What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t fucking know!” he ran his hand through his hair as he paced back and forth across his bedroom. “How am I supposed to explain that I ignored the very clear instruction of ‘do not hook up with Mik’? I know being stupid is part of my brand, but this is crossing a line that I don’t know if I can bounce back from if I even deserve it.”

Jan stopped Rosé by grabbing onto his shoulders. “Listen to me, whatever happens, however it turns out, I’m gonna be here for you,” he promised. “I’ve gotta head out now, but I will drop everything in an instant if you need me, okay?” and after they exchanged goodbyes, he was on his way.

Rosé rubbed his face and stared at himself in the mirror. He shook his head, then his heart dropped to his stomach when he heard the front door rattling, then opening. “I’ll be right there, baby!” he called out, then refocused his gaze at his reflection. “You ruined everything, you stupid bitch.”

[spaceskam]

a little follow up to this for @skrtl ❤️️

ao3

warning: literally just talking about mental health

Michael watched Alex through the open door of the bathroom.

As mentally drained as he felt, Alex’s bed was his sanctuary and watching him get ready from the safety of it was something too lovely to apply words too. It replaced all the bad thoughts in his mind if only for a moment.

Things between them were slow moving, but he didn’t mind. Alex was still going to therapy and Michael had decided to do the next best thing with joining AA and a queer support group. He had to hide some truths, but talking about things even in a slightly altered way helped. 

Maybe he couldn’t talk about Max dying, but he could talk about the shed. Maybe he couldn’t talk about being an alien, but he could talk about being different and having to hide. He could talk about being exposed to drugs and alcohol at a young age and using them to numb his mind to the abuse, even if he couldn’t be specific by saying acetone. He hadn’t even realized how fucked up he still was over his childhood until he had to talk about it.

Alex was proud of him though. That was nice.

Alex moved towards the bed slowly, leaning heavily on his crutches with the weight of the bullshit on his mind. Today was his first day back to work because apparently even a mental break could be swept under Uncle Sam’s stripes-and-stars rug if he needed you enough. And Alex was needed.

“Show me you can handle it,” his superior had said, “And we’ll talk about a promotion.” Even Michael couldn’t deny that Major Alexander Manes had a nice ring to it.

Michael made space for Alex to fall into bed and felt a smile tug at his lips as Alex fell face forward into the pillow. His eyes dragged over Alex’s bare back and visibly saw his muscles relaxing out of sheer force of will. The dip of his back led to the hem of slightly-tattered Air Force sweats that he hadn’t even bothered to tie off beneath his leg. Cautiously, Michael reached out and tucked his hair behind his ear, revealing Alex’s eye that was peeking out from the pillow.

“Hi,” Michael said, voice hoarse for no reason. He cleared his throat and Alex shifted slightly to face him.

“Hi,” he said back, “How was your day?”

“Long.”

“Same.”

Michael ran his fingers through his hair again, trying to get his fix of feeling it because he knew he would probably be forced to get it all chopped off soon. Alex yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. When his eyes watered in response, Michael wiped those not-quite tears away too.

“How was it?” Michael asked, eager to hear more. The one thing they both were having to work on was not only making sure they themselves talked, but making sure the other person talked. Sometimes it seemed like poking a bear, but it was always worth it. Communication was key or some shit.

“Well, most of it was the Colonel making me follow him around all day. He basically wants to babysit me until he’s sure I can handle it or whatever,” Alex explained. Michael furrowed his eyebrows.

“But didn’t the General say you were good to go?” Michael asked. Alex rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but there’s talk that I only passed the psych eval because he pulled some strings. Which isn’t that much of a stretch, I get it. But I’d rather not be babysat,” he said. Michael understood that more than a little.

“Tell him to fuck off.”

Alex huffed a laugh, “Guerin, he’s my superior, I can’t do that.”

“See, this is why I could never be in the military,” Michael stated. Alex shook his head.

“There’s a lot of reasons why a lot of people couldn’t or shouldn’t join the military. I mean, the whole system is fucked so that’s why we have people that shouldn’t be there, but I’m lucky. I’m in a position where my worst situation is being babysat by some white guy who thinks he’s better than me,” Alex said, shrugging slightly, “Could be worse.”

“I guess,” Michael sighed, “I just still don’t get why they want you to stick around so bad.” Alex gave him a small smile and then tapped his temple.

“Got my dad’s secrets and the General knows that,” he said softly, “There’s a good chance if I try to get out, something bad would happen to make sure I keep my mouth shut.”

Michael’s stomach dropped and his body tensed. Alex had said the words so nonchalantly, but they didn’t feel nonchalant.

“Alex, that’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke,” Alex huffed a laugh despite it not being funny, “Wouldn’t be the first guy to mysteriously go missing because they knew too much.”

Michael kept staring at him and tried to find the best way to explain how much destruction he would cause if that happened. It did, however, successfully distract him from his own personal stress of the day. Alex disappearing was the most terrifying thing in the world. Especially now when they were getting better. 

“Okay, throwing that topic away, I’m not being serious,” Alex said, but Michael could hear that it was nothing more than a comforting lie. Still, he let Alex scoot closer and tap him on the nose to lighten the mood. “Tell me about your day.”

“Um,” Michael said, trying to think about anything but the shitty situation Alex was stuck in, “I was talking to, uh, my sponsor at AA and she asked if I wanted to come to this all boy’s group home and talk.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, when I said that I didn’t really have a success story to tell, she said was like, ‘what the fuck are you talking about, you have a job and a place to live, that’s a success story’ and, I don’t know, made me feel weird,” Michael admitted. Alex smiled.

“I don’t know her, but I like her,” he said. Michael rolled his eyes, but his smile matched Alex’s.

“Yeah, she was saying it would also probably help me because those kids get what I went through specifically,” he said, “I just feel stupid for having so many different issues that need so many specific things.”

“I get that, I felt like that too,” Alex explained, “My therapist back when I was admitted said that they tend to go hand in hand, though, which is just a shitty thing that happens. Like it’s all your life and so things are going to be intertwined and so if one big bad thing happens, there’s probably something else that’s bad that fucks you up that only happened because of the bad thing that happened before. It’s a big cycle that you have to break even if you didn’t start it.”

“So basically I’m fucked.”

“No,” Alex laughed, “We just got dealt shitty hands, but we’re not alone in it. You’re not the only person that has dealt with all of these things. Statistically impossible.”

“I’m probably the only one who dealt with all of those things while also being an alien.”

“You don’t know that either,” Alex said boldly. Michael took a deep breath and nodded.

“So what I’m hearing is you think I should go talk to those kids,” Michael said. Alex nodded with that sweet little smile.

“It’d be good for you.”

“Maybe,” Michael agreed, staring at him for a few seconds longer. He was so pretty. “Positive thing. Go.”

Alex snorted and rolled his eyes, but scooted closer because he could. They were almost nose to nose. For a moment, Michael thought about kissing him. Then he quickly threw that thought in the trash because they still had a long way to go before they did something more than just sharing a bed for comfort.

“Um,” Alex hummed, his fingers reaching out and tapping a little rhythm against Michael’s hip over the blanket, “Oh, you know what, Kyle and Forrest brought me lunch. Did you know they’re, like, weirdly good friends now? Anyway, it was from that new sushi place downtown. It was pretty good, we’ll have to go there sometime.”

“Yeah, we should,” Michael agreed even though he never really had sushi before with the exception of that one time Isobel force fed him sushi and he threw it up in the parking lot of the Wild Pony. But he would eat sushi again if Alex liked it.

“Your turn, positive thing.”

“Uh,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I don’t know. Does that one lady who comes all the time because she drives for Uber and always brings me coffee coming with coffee count?”

“Did it make you happy?”

“Yeah.”

“Then of course it counts.”

“Okay, then her.”

“Was it good coffee?” Alex prodded. Michael offered a little laugh.

“Yeah, it was good,” he said. Alex hummed sweetly, leaning in just a bit to bump their noses together which gave Michael more dopamine than he could actually comprehend. “But I think my main positive thing is right now, being with you.” Alex rolled his eyes. “I’m serious.”

“You keep complimenting me and I might start thinking you like me,” Alex teased. Michael laughed softly and just smiled at this man who he really didn’t feel like he deserved. Which, in itself, was a problem. He did deserve Alex. As long as he was trying to get better and be better for him, he deserved him. Thinking he didn’t would only lead to bad things. “We need to go to sleep, I’ve gotta get up early.”

“Okay,” Michael complied, still feeling much better than he had for most of the day just being with him.

Alex moved up to kiss his forehead and Michael flicked off the lights with his telekinesis.

“Goodnight, Alex.”

“Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

And, still, he pulled him close and held him until he could fall asleep.

[theguruhypnotist]

Here's Why No One Should Consume Dairy.

First of all, you may want to stop believing everything you read and hear and spend time doing your homework and honing your belief system.  Being a Hypnotherapist and Coach, trained in NLP, Energy work and various other methodologies and certifications, I'm uber interested in the whole body approach to healing, which includes what we put in our bodies.I’m very anti-pharma for many reasons. 

Studies have proven that approximately 2/3 of the medicines you may be taking are placebo…meaning there is nothing in them except side effects and are harmful to your body. You’ve been taking them because your doctor told you to…remember pharmaceuticals are big business, why am I telling you this…because so is dairy.

There’s piles of money to be made in the dairy industry but in order to make that money, “they” have to make you believe that dairy is good for you and has massive health benefits for you. The loads of money that is made in the dairy industry is coated in loads of cow poop.

All mammals drink their mother’s milk during the first part of their lives, BUT then we are weaned off of it within the first few years and we move to other more appropriate food sources, as each mammal does depending on its specie and breed. This is the natural cycle of things. All mammals know when to stop drinking milk, EXCEPT humans…even a baby cows stop drinking from their mother as they grow up and start eating grass. I suppose if milk was required, we would see adult cows everywhere, continuing to drink from their mothers.

Since we’re speaking about cows and their milk, let’s understand another important point. The chemical composition of the milk from cows, is extremely different then that of humans, which means that our body is not designed to break it down.  There is an enzyme that breaks down the sugar in milk, aka lactose, called lactase, and our body stops producing this enzyme between the ages of 2-3. Why? Because we are not supposed to be drinking milk from our mothers after that.

Do you have poor digestion? When did you stop consuming milk products??

One of the arguments of drinking milk is that it contains protein. 87% of cow’s milk is made up of a protein called casein and the second biggest portion is whey. There is casein in mothers’ milk as well BUT there is 300% more in cow’s milk which gives them their huge bones. Casein is also used in wood glue because of its strong binding properties…see where I am going with this.   How can something used to make, not only glue, but paint as well as plastic and fibres be just as good for us to ingest? Really??

Here’s some information from various studies I’ve been reading about cow milk products;

1.   Casamorphin (found in Casein) can cause or aggravate autism

2.   Can double the risk of prostate cancer and up to quadruple the risk of metastatic or fatal prostate cancer.

3.   Proteins promote cancer growth, but of all the protein, casein, most strongly and most consistently promotes cancer and all stages of it.

4.   Encourages weight gain due to its highly acidic nature. Milk products will NOT help you in losing weight in those troublesome areas, ultimately keeping you from your health goals.

5.   Encourages our body to create too much mucus. Nothing is more powerful in promoting and forming mucus in the body.

a.   Mucus is good for our bodies as it coats what needs to be coated and protects the surfaces of the membranes BUT when we have too much here is what happens. It surrounds and engulfs all the toxins from certain foods in our body and leaving that toxicity trapped in our body.

b.   Excessive mucus begins to build up on the intestinal walls and harden adding to whatever else might be in there making it harder and harder to release the sludge and waste from the body.

As soon as you put but milk products in our body, our body begins to try and get rid of it desperately. How does that manifest? In the formation of phlegm, mucus and even pimples. So, here is my question, if my body is trying so hard to get rid of it, then why should I ingest it in the first place. Duh!!

Not convinced yet…ok, here is some more fun facts. The dairy that we can buy in the stores in packed with hormones and drugs because they are given to the cows to promote long life and more milk.

You know I have to talk about pasteurization as well. This process heats the milk to extreme temperatures so that it can kill bacteria and that sounds like a good plan. The problem is it also kills natural enzymes therefore making the milk even harder to digest.

You need calcium…that is a fact, so that we can build strong bones and prevent various illnesses like osteoporosis. Studies have shown that where dairy is involved in the diet, so are the incidences of hip fractures and bone issues like osteoporosis.  Women drinking milk suffer up to 7 times more broken hips…that is insanity. 

The protein that is consumed…and remember how high the casein is in cow milk…the more calcium is lost. So basically, drinking milk is an OXYMORON.If you consume around 75grams of protein, then you are losing more calcium in your urine than is absorbed in your body. That means the calcium you are drinking to make you stronger is your worse enemy and you are losing calcium and opening yourself to illnesses such as cancer.WAIT…I’m not done…there’s more.

Dairy products contain high levels of phosphorous, which binds to calcium making it impossible to absorb.

So, I’m going back to what I said in the beginning…stop believing everything you are told and do your homework. Don’t even believe me…do you homework.

The question becomes, where can you get some awesome calcium that your body needs and can absorb.  Here we go; Bok Choy, Broccoli, Cactus, Cauliflower, Collard Greens, Cucumber, Kale, Romaine Lettuce, Sea Vegetables, Sesame Seeds, Spinach and Turnip Greens.

If you’re an avid dairy fan and nothing I’ve said here has changed your mind then, at the very least, change to goat’s milk products or sheep’s milk. Goat’s milk is the closest to human milk that there is. My additional suggestion would be a Nut Milk, Hemp or Rice Milk.

Look forward to your comments and feedback.

[childcareseer]

The Child Care Industry is in Crisis. Solutions Lie in Innovation

With demand for quality childcare spots far outstripping supply, the childcare industry is begging for innovation. Successful operators of the future will respond to Americans’ changing lifestyles by offering more flexible care arrangements. Technology can help centers become more profitable by better matching available capacity to the precise hours parents want.

The career that led up to that fateful 2017 decision to purchase the daycare—a business I have expanded into two locations and a child care management software business under the umbrella of Callahan Learning Center—gives me a somewhat unconventional perspective on the needs of this essential industry. My background is in engineering development. I earned a degree in electrical engineering from Grove City College in 1997, obtained my MBA in 2002 and worked for decades to build a successful career as an executive and entrepreneur in the wireless communication technology and software industry. I hold numerous patents, I’ve invented multi-million-dollar product lines, and I’ve been involved in more than four startups from cradle to exit, including my most recent startup selling for $200 million in 2019.

At heart, I am a problem-solver. I have found great professional joy in combining the problem-solving skills I learned as a software engineer with time-tested philosophies on managing and motivating teams to build healthy and profitable enterprises. When I bought a local daycare business, I discovered an industry screaming for software innovation. That discovery launched my journey to build a better daycare—one of the most fascinating problems I’ve worked on.

An industry in crisis

You don’t have to look hard to find people sounding the alarm on the severe imbalance between supply and demand in American child care. Before the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, a mere 23% of children under age 3 could be served by the available licensed child care slots in their communities, according to a survey of child care supply in 19 states and the District of Columbia conducted by the Center for American Progress. The mismatch between child care supply and demand costs the American economy an estimated $57 billion a year in lost earnings, productivity and revenue, according to research by the Council for a Strong America.

These studies were conducted before the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, which has put a ton of bricks on the accelerator of what was already a worrisome trend. In April 2020—just weeks into the crisis—the National Association for the Education of Young Children (NAEYC) surveyed workers in child care centers and family child care homes in all 50 states. At that time, nearly half of respondents reported that their center—like Callahan Learning Center at the time—was completely closed. Of those that were open, 85% were operating at less than half of their enrollment capacity. The stress on these centers as the pandemic has continued has been immense. A July survey by NAEYC found that if the reduced enrollment and increased operating costs brought by the pandemic were to persist, only 18% of child care programs expected to survive another year. Yet the demand for good child care is only going to grow as the post-pandemic economy thankfully starts putting more Americans back to work.

This is an economic inefficiency that is begging us for a market solution.

Matching demand more precisely

At its most basic level, child care is the business of matching people who need care for their children with individuals who are willing to provide that care. In America, we’ve been going about the business of addressing this market demand pretty inefficiently for years. Most child care centers sell care in standard quantities designed to match a typical “9-to-5” work schedule, while only 62% of Americans would prefer to work the ‘typical banking hours’ of the 50s, according to a 2018 survey.

In complete truth, to keep a spot in these centers, many parents end up paying for child care hours they aren’t using, be it unused hours each week, or needing to pay for care during vacations to hold their spots. This setup also prevents center operators from being able to charge a higher rate for smaller and more irregular quantities of care, which would benefit both the center and the families who would gladly pay more per hour for the hours they need versus paying by the week for hours they can’t use.

In the 21st century, we’ve learned that matching market supply more precisely to demand can reap rewards for both consumers and providers. For instance, Uber and Lyft have allowed urban dwellers to stop paying for cars that stay parked most of the time—or make an economic return on that excess automotive capacity. Another example is Airbnb, which has allowed travelers to find lodging in the heart of the neighborhoods they wish to visit, and often without the minimum-night requirements of traditional resorts. Instacart lets us be more efficient in the time we allocate to buying food—while allowing grocers and paid shoppers to charge a premium for items purchased through the service.

We often don’t like to think about applying cold economic principles to something as personal as the care of small children, but the reality is that this is already happening, to the detriment of American working families. The American 9-to-5 office job is quickly disappearing, and the child care industry has not kept pace with this trend. In addition, many existing jobs—from surgeons to paramedics to restaurant workers—demand irregular and unconventional hours that aren’t often served by traditional care offerings. As the millennial generation—whose members seek unprecedented flexibility in their work-life arrangements—is now entering parenthood, it is urgent that the child care industry evolve by providing a product that matches their lifestyles.

Strong child care businesses can no longer be built on providing set offerings of full- or half-time care, but instead must offer a more customizable menu of options. This requires some of the same software-based solutions that have brought us on-demand transportation, lodging and grocery shopping.

Defining the problem

Labor makes up more than half of a typical child care center’s costs, so in the first few months I owned Callahan Learning Center, I spent a lot of time trying to understand how my center director scheduled staff. I watched as she worked her intuitive magic week after week to match our available educators with the children in our care. While this skill was highly impressive, it was also impossible to replicate. As I watched the process, I wondered, “What happens if she gets sick or leaves this job?”

I thought for sure someone had created a tool to help with this.

I tried some of the leading software tools on the market. While many of them kept good data on where children and teachers were yesterday, and where they were today, nobody was helping me answer the question that I believe lies at the heart of making this business better: Who will be in your care tomorrow, next week, and next month? Who will care for those children, and what will that care look like?

Solution: Child Care Seer

This problem sent me back to my software development experiences. I assembled, then spent a year and a half working with an internationally recognized team of developers to build a tool that would relieve child care managers of this ongoing burden, allow them to better understand their available capacity, and plan efficiently to improve the quality of care they could provide. As we worked on this problem, we realized it would impact so many aspects of the business.

Essentially, we were building an all-in-one platform that would free up dedicated caregivers to do what they love—care for children—while minimizing the time they needed to spend on repetitive tasks that keep their business going. We were building something that could allow them to focus on the quality of care they were providing, while giving them ways to increase the profitability—and longevity—of their business.

The result is Child Care Seer. Named for the seers, or prophets, who saw the future in biblical times, Child Care Seer’s job is to smooth out the roadblocks—from late payments to irregular schedules—that cause so much stress for the dedicated child care center workers that our nation needs to keep in business. Seer also allows providers to identify their excess capacity and sell it to parents who need more flexible options. Giving providers this ability to sell program-based and hourly care simultaneously has incredible potential to strengthen these businesses—an outcome that has important benefits for both hard-working child care center operators and the American workforce as a whole.

We’ve been using Child Care Seer to run our operations at Callahan Learning Center since we reopened in August, after using the pandemic shutdown as an opportunity to fully reimagine how we do business. Now that we use Seer, our weeks begin much more peacefully, as we are not spending hours on Monday mornings running credit cards for tuition payments—Seer automates this for us. When parents arrive with their children, our workers don’t have to have difficult conversations about late payments, as all of this is facilitated through the daycare billing software. Our director can see in real-time which children and teachers are in and out of all of the rooms in both of our locations, which makes on-the-spot decisions faster and more efficient. Seer allows us to more fairly and efficiently manage our waitlist, and lets us give parents the convenience of going online to request two hours of child care next Tuesday—or whatever irregular quantity of care their schedule may require. Seer also gives us the tools to engage parents in a way that is consistent, valuable and not burdensome to our educators.

Seer’s capabilities continue to evolve and grow as we begin to offer this product for use in child care centers across North America. Our development team continues to build Seer out as an indispensable platform that can enable child care businesses to offer both unparalleled flexibility and uncompromising quality, while also relieving them of some of the heavy logistical burden that adds hours to their work days.  

I think child care is a huge part of the success of the country and the success of the local community, and I truly believe it can be massively better than it is. Let’s look for ways we can bring the American ingenuity that has improved so many other industries to bear on the business of matching caregivers with parents who want a safe place to take their kids while they work. My solution to this problem is a daycare software tool that can make it easier for parents to purchase the care they need, and far less stressful for center operators to run a sustainable business.

To me, that’s a win for everybody.

About Tom Callahan

Tom Callahan is a serial entrepreneur and seasoned executive with a track record of starting, growing and leading companies of all sizes. He is the owner of Callahan Learning Center, a Virginia-based family child care management company that operates centers providing high-quality and highly flexible child care. He is the founder of Child Care Seer, an all-in-one platform that can make child care a more manageable and profitable business. He came to the child care industry after more than two decades in the software and technology industries, where he invented multi-million-dollar product lines and guided multiple startups from cradle to exit, including his last startup selling for over $200 million in 2019. Learn more about Child Care Seer at childcareseer.com.

[slothgiirl]

shadowplay part 13

You wake up first. And shower, belly grumbling. Maybe you should've gotten up to eat last night. But it would've taken an hour to make you look descent. And you had your pride. 

Though you doubted Miles could keep anything to himself close as the men all seemed to be. 

You don oversized adobe red linen overalls, which you were sure was a charity shop purchase. You'd never pay retail price for . No way. But every now and then you thought you might just be a person who could pull of the whole country girl aesthetic. 

It never lasted. 

You were much more comfortable in well tailored trousers and blouses, but when in rome. 

Grabbing a cup of water, you go through the food Breanna had thoughtfully brought with her. Gluten-free granola. Gluten free flax muffins. An assortment of vegetables and fruit worthy of a farmers market. Three frozen pizzas, and enough beer for a couple of english lads. Plus some wine. You opt for the muffin. 

"Hey," Breana smiles as she grabs a banana and pours herself a cup of granola, "you're up."

"Yeah," you shrug, smiling. 

"That's perfect. You want to go on this trail with me. I brought my camera and I'm going to put it to good use. There's these like, pools. I think they're hotsprings but no promises," she explains, tearing off chunks of banana and popping them into her mouth. 

It's only eight in the morning but she already looks ready for a photoshoot. A photoshoot for some environmentally friendly indie brand, but all the same. 

"That sounds really nice," you reply, "and honestly without all the walking in London I don't actually exercise." Just commuting was enough exercise for the day. And all those stairs leading to the underground. You'd get fat driving around the city all day. Or would it be ubering since you couldn't drive? You'd have to learn to drive. Uber was expensive. 

"Yeah I bet," Breana says, "I keep telling myself I'll start going to the gym but honestly I just watch a youtube video for yoga and call it a day."

"That's more exercise than I do."

You follow Breana out the door, taking a trail clearly marked out, flattened earth from use, your shoes kicking up a bit of dirt and coating your trainers within minutes. Even with the sun high in the sky, the tall trees, disappearing beyond what your eye could see. The smell of crisp pine and evergreens filled the air, so much better than the stale London air. It's not a hard trail by any means, closer to a walk through a park than a hike. There's an slight incline that makes your thighs burn. 

Breana tells you about the camera she'd just bought, "iphone pictures just aren't the same," as she plays with the light settings. She explains how hard it is to find a house in the LA area, wanting something near good food and cute shops but , "like mom and pop places," she laughs, "but it's like I also want to feel safe even if I go out at five in the morning on a run. Not that I've ever gone on a run. Like La Puente." 

But Matt didn't like how out of the way La Puente was from the places in LA he liked. 

"And La Puente is," you ask. 

You didn't know much about LA other than Hollywood and the iconic landmarks that featured in all the movies even if you couldn't name them all. You were sure that's how people felt about London. Tourists obviously wouldn't know Kensington from Greenwich, or how to get there. About as lost as you were about La Puente. 

"Where I grew up," Breana explains. "I still love it there. My grandparent's are also still there so it's just another reason I want to live there. I just got these curlers from my grandma but I don't think they worked," she runs her fingers through pin-straight hair. "Or maybe I just needed more hair spray?"

"I've no clue," you tell her, "I've only ever had curly, well not curls that terrible frizzy in between hair."

"What about you, where did you grow up?"

"A tiny town south of Birmingham." Odds were people had at least heard of Birmingham. No one had heard of your tiny little town outside of Birmingham. She nods, halting as you come across a pile of rocks, just the right size to climb on, basking in the morning light. 

Breana hands you her camera and gets up on the rocks, "take them from waist level so I look taller," she states, posing with grace. Anytime you tried to pose for pictures, you only looked way too forced and bad. "You live in London though, right?"

You take a couple of pictures, crouching down but then not liking those very much at all. "Yeah, better tailoring apprenticeships. I really wanted to work on Saville Row. Where all the greats worked like Lee Alexander McQueen." Not that you had anywhere near his talent. 

"And you do now right," Breana notes, sliding down off the rocks and immediately coming over to look over the photos. "Gonna be the next McQueen?"

"Nooo," you reply. "I like being a tailor. And living in London. I'm going to buy a house there soon. Also I could always submit my CV and become a petit mains in Paris." 

She waves you in front of her, camera held in front of her face as you roll your eyes, but let her have her fun. Not like these pictures would be published ever. Still, you were suddenly all too aware of every step you were taking. "Why don't you just move in with Alex," she comments. Which makes it all sound so easy. 

Except-

"I've been wanting a place of my own for a while now, " you reply, "before I'd even met Alex. And I still do."

She grins, "cause you're a strong independent women who don't need no man!" 

You laugh, stopping as she catches up to you. You both walk forward, as the path narrows, forcing you to walk single filed as the dirt transitions to stone, to stone steps as a pool of steaming water emerges out of the forest like a fairy tale. 

"Up for skinny dipping," Breana asks, with a wink. 

You shrug. "When in rome." And follow her forward. 

When you both finally make it back, finally drag yourselves out of the hot pool. . .hot spring, and walk back at a meandering pace, you're greeted with the sight of Matt watching a football match and smacking Zack's arm as he heckles the hell out of the TV, which was understandable when it was 0-0 and the last few minutes of the game. 

Alex and Miles were on the other settee, standing up on it, each with a guitar in hard, singing little ditties based on Zack's latest comment, backs against each other. Breana rolled her eyes, immediately going for the bottle of wine, pouring out two mugs filled to the brim. 

Miles is the first to spot the both of you, "Breeeeeee," he croons, nodding a hello at you, "and just as we were about to start up a drinking game!" He takes a seat on the armrest, watching with glee as Zack steals the control from Matt and starts flipping through the channels.

She shakes her head, taking a seat on Matt's lap. "You could make a drinking game out of anything.""

I can and I have," Miles agrees, reaching for the bottle of tequila laying on the coffee table along with a couple of shot glasses from various Vegas casinos, already pouring out the shots.

Zack, settling on one of the Mission Impossible films, asks, "even Mission Impossible?" 

"I feel like there'll be one of those bingo cards for it online," Breana says, sipping at her wine. 

You take a seat next to Alex, smiling as you sip at your wine. "I'd be surprised if there wasn't. Seems like the sort of movie that'd be easy to drink along to."

"Or," Miles grins, "we could just drink every time Tom Cruise shows up on screen."

"Miles," Breana cries, almost choking on her drink. 

"You bloody wanker," Matt shakes his head, "going to give us alcohol poisoning."

"Life's short," the man shrugs, "y.o.l.o or whatever."

Zack pulls up a bingo card for Mission impossible. 

And you all settle in to get really fucked up. Hoping you won't be too far gone to fuck Alex again. 

[natrogersfics]

PREVIEW - Never Be the Same (new fic alert!)

AN: Could I BE more excited for this upcoming fic? Nope, I really couldn’t. Sooo... here’s the ENTIRE opening scene. Happy reading! :-)

Steve’s eyes scan the expanse of the room as he stands behind the bar, working a dish towel over the freshly washed martini glass. At nearly midnight on a Monday, Shield is empty save for a few patrons finishing the last of their libations. It’s the eclectic mix of people you’d expect to find in the West Village, ranging from professionals nursing glasses of Merlot to a pair of buddies indulging in a few house brews. And yet, as different as all these people are, between these four walls, they’re all committed to the same cause of unwinding from their day.

On the list of things bars are good for, being a prime space to observe human behavior ranks high. That’s not an opinion, but a fact he’s deduced in his years of owning one. And based on the number of breakthroughs in friendships and relationships he’s witnessed in this bar alone – likely a product of an honest conversation taking place under the warm lights – it’s safe to say that alcohol is a pretty potent social lubricant, ridding people of their inhibitions and revealing them at their rawest.  

That’s not to say that people and alcohol are an exact science, though. Maybe tequila is straight up courage in a glass, granting someone confidence they may not normally have, but it is also a champion at nullifying discretion and making bad ideas seem like really, really good ones.

Just as it’s doing to the guy by the far wall right now.

From his vantage point, Steve has to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he watches the guy down the last of his gin and tonic before hopping off the stool. The man stalks towards the window, where a young woman with chestnut hair is quietly enjoying her watermelon margarita, before plopping down on the opposite side of the booth unprompted. The woman looks up at the intrusion, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as the man puts his hand out to shake.

“Dead in the water, bud,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head as the guy serves up what he can only assume is a cheesy pickup line based on the scowl that forms on the woman’s face.

“The man hasn’t a clue, huh?”

The comment causes him to turn, and he smiles when sees one of their regulars, Sam, seated before him with his tie already loosened and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Not a single one,” he says, walking over. “The usual?”  

“Oh, no,” Sam says, emphasizing the last word. “Whiskey, neat. Make it a double.”

“That bad, huh?” he says, turning to grab the bottle of Macallan off the top shelf.  

“You have no idea,” Sam says exasperatedly. “Just got told I have to be in the West Coast tomorrow morning and I’m pretty sure the only seat available on my flight is right smack next to the lavatory.”

He cringes as he places a crystal tumbler down on the counter. “That’s how it is, huh?”

“That’s how it is,” Sam confirms.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” he says. “I’d be lying if I said that doesn’t absolutely suck. But hopefully this makes it slightly better.” He sets the drink down in front of Sam. “On the house.”

“I knew I liked you, man,” Sam says, pointing at him as the corners of his mouth quirk up. He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet before sliding a crisp five down the counter. “I just knew it.”

“Safe flight tomorrow, all right?” he says, putting a fist out for Sam to bump. He takes the bill, placing it in the tip jar before he returns to the sink to finish drying the rest of the glasses. As far as tips for a single drink go, a five is generous, and he’s certain Wanda, the regular bartender he’s covering for, will appreciate it come tomorrow. Wanda is a Senior down at NYU, and with the end of the semester coming up, he and his business partner, Natasha, had told her to take the night off to study.

As he picks up another glass, he turns his attention back across the room where the woman is looking less than impressed with her intruder. He’s never been one to look the other way when he senses another person is uncomfortable with someone else’s advances, especially in the confines of his own bar. But the woman looks like she can hold her own, so he keeps his distance and finds himself infinitely glad when she picks up her tablet and bids the guy a sharp goodnight, leaving the man to ponder where he had gone wrong.

He shakes his head, because that’s another thing about him – he’s incredibly adept at reading other people. Sure, Psychology was one of his majors, but it truly should not take a genius to notice that the woman has been tense the second you took a seat and is painfully aware that your eyes are about a foot South of where her eyes are as you talk to her. It’s all in the body language and facial expressions, visual cues and hints that are supposed to be impossible to miss.

Or, so one would think.

The guy at the booth turns his head towards the other side of the room, his eyes lighting up like Christmas morning, and Steve doesn’t even have to follow the man’s gaze to know who he has spotted. Over at the other end of the counter, Natasha sits in front of her laptop with her forehead scrunched as her fingers dance across the keyboard. The expression on her face is one of deep concentration. It is the universal Do Not Bother Me face. The Talk-To-Me-And-I’ll-Kick-You-In-The-Face face. But as Sam had said, this guy hasn’t a clue as he makes his way towards her, his chest puffed out with renewed vigor.  

There isn’t a single doubt in his mind why this bozo (he’s certain of it now that he’s seen the guy interact with other humans) has zeroed in on his best friend. Natasha is gorgeous with eyes the shade of shining emeralds and scarlet tresses cascading down her back, its tips still platinum from when she had gone blonde. But more importantly, she’s devastatingly smart and witty – just ask everyone she’s obliterated in the courtroom once upon a time – and her sense of humor is absolutely top notch.

But there’s no way this bozo could know any of that. The only thing he recognizes is that Natasha’s dazzling as he perches on the stool next to her, leaning an elbow on the table and nearly knocking over her glass of water. Natasha’s reflexes are fast, though, and she pushes her laptop out of the way just as water sloshes over the top and onto the counter. She looks to the culprit, her eyes squinting into a death stare when she does not recognize the person next to her, and from where he’s watching the scene unfold, Steve laughs quietly, throwing the towel into the sink before making his way over.

“The name’s Brett,” he hears the guy say as he nears. “What’s yours, beautiful?”

“Nice to meet you, Brett,” he says, intercepting the guy’s hand just as he wraps his other around Natasha from behind, pulling her closer to him and dusting a kiss to the crown of her head. “Her name’s Natasha,” he informs him with a huge grin as Natasha relaxes into his touch. “And I’m Steve. Though I much prefer to be called her fiancé.”

Brett’s expression crumbles at his words, and he utters a quiet apology and then a farewell before exiting the bar defeatedly like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.

“Fiancé, huh?” Natasha says, swiveling her chair around once Brett is out of sight. “We’ve certainly upgraded from fake boyfriend.”

He smirks. Since they become good friends in college, they made an agreement that when one of them got into a situation with unwanted advances, the other would step in as a rescue. It offered a painless out for the both of them at parties when they weren’t particularly interested in a person back then, and now it’s become a nightly rouse to fend off enthusiastic patrons.

“Seemed like the type who wouldn’t be deterred by the notion of a boyfriend,” he says with a shrug.

She raises an eyebrow in challenge. “A bit of a hard sell without a ring, don’t you think?”  

“He didn’t even notice that you wanted to be left alone,” he argues. “Doubt he has half a mind to look at your left hand.” She shrugs in concession just as a yawn falls from her lips, and he eyes the time on his watch. “Go home,” he says before smirking. “Before you attract more clowns.”

She rolls her eyes. “You should head home, too,” she counters. “Or are you and Tony painting the town red or whatever it is you two do?”

“Nope,” he says. “I have a meeting with my Dad and a potential buyer for Sarah’s in the morning, so no outrageously late nights for me. In the name of putting my best foot forward and all that.”

“You say that like you don’t always.”

“Tell the press that,” he deadpans. She shoots him a sympathetic look, but he’s quick to dismiss it with a shake of his head.

“Wanda and Peter are receiving deliveries tomorrow, so I don’t have to be here early,” she says, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. “You go, I’ll lock up.”

“Nope, not happening,” he says. “Go get your stuff and I’ll order you an Uber.” He puts a finger up just as her lips part to speak, effectively cutting her off. “And yes, I know you’re very well capable of roundhouse kicking someone’s teeth out, but I’m doing it anyway.” With Natasha’s years of practice in both gymnastics and mixed martial arts, he has no doubt in his mind that she can handle herself, but better safe than sorry late at night on the streets of New York. “It’s late. Go home, get some sleep.”

“Yeah, because I’m just dying to get home,” she mutters as she slips her laptop into her bag.

His expression hardens at her words. “Johnny still bothering you?”

“No more than living in the same building with only so many elevators as your determined ex fiancé does,” she says, her smile a little too sweet for his liking.

To any other person, Natasha’s response is convincing. But he knows his best friend well, knows how much the situation still eats at her. He isn’t a proponent for violence, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t had thoughts of throwing Johnny Storm off Natasha’s tenth floor balcony once or twice for what he did to her.  

“You know, the unit next to mine just opened up,” he says. “We’d rock being neighbors. It’ll be like we’re in college all over again, except this time, we’ll be borrowing grown up things like salt and sugar instead of cans of Red Bull.”

“No one actually believes that you eat sugar, Rogers,” she says teases, drawing a slim outline of his figure in the air. He rolls his eyes at her, making her laugh. “Look, I finally got the apartment I wanted after all these years.” She shakes her head. “He can move if he wants. As for me, I am a tree.”

“Well, tree, your Uber is around the corner,” he says, looking at his phone. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh great,” she says as they walk out the door. “For a second there, I thought I was going to have to walk the eight feet between this door and the car without an escort.” He shoots her a withering look, and she chuckles before leaning in to peck his cheek. “I’m kidding. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he says, opening the car door for her to get in. He waits for the car to drive off, but he finds himself confused when the window rolls down instead.  

“One last thing,” she says before gesturing to his face. “Trim a little. Don’t shave it off, but you know… tidy up a bit. You’ll have your dad’s buyer eating out of the palm of your hand in no time.”

He scoffs. “Thanks. Don’t know how I could ever function without you.”

“You don’t,” she says, smiling.

“Go home, you goof,” he says, shaking his head as she gives him a wink and rolls the window back up. This time, the car drives off, and he waits until its taillights are out of sight before closing up for the night.

Update 12/02/19: CLICK HERE TO READ THE FULL CHAPTER ON AO3

My sincere gratitude, as always, to @faith2nyc for the beautiful teaser art. If you’re not already following her on Instagram, please do! 

DISCLAIMER: Final version may differ as the chapter enters the editing stage. Also I totally did not proofread this for typos and/or run-ons.