#it was the Posey showing through I just know it

[toastybugguy]

CRYING SO FUCKING HARD AT THE WAY SCOTT STRAIGHT UP GIGGLES WHEN STILES RUNS AND HUGS HIM… HOW DID I NOT CATCH THIS BEFORE. biting my entire fist right now. tears streaming down my face.

[givethemsmut]

The Pack | Chapter One

Characters: Dylan O’Brien, fem!reader

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien, Dylan x You

Every female on the planet wanted a reason to be close to the actors on the hit TV show, Teen Wolf, except me.

I don’t dig wolves. Now some hot vampires? All day.

My dad loves producing so much that he was constantly trying to get me to join him on set in any shape of form. He wanted me to love his vice just as much as him so I would understand abandoning his entire life it. But I didn’t want to act or produce, I wanted to throw myself into college so I could figure it out.

The easiest choice would be the medical field… for so many reasons… but that felt like salt in my very much open wounds.

Twenty-three, living at home with my dad, while trying to forgive him should have been a course I signed up for in college. Instead I got to feel awkward being the light of his life. It wasn’t all bad - he was barely home and I got free rein over my life.

Sleeping in was the best part of not having class. It was just past noon when I dragged myself downstairs at the allure of the coffee pot. I had it set for noon just so I wouldn’t sleep my life away. I didn’t even notice my dad in the corner of the room, at the large dinning room table we never used, busy on his iPad.

“Sleeping in again? Another finger pointing to you coming to work for me.” He didn’t even look up at me when he talked, neck deep in his night shoot edits.

This was a constant battle we waged. “Dad, I have school full time. I don’t have time to come play on set with you.”

He sighed almost defeated for the day on the topic, “only girl in the world who doesn’t want to be on the Teen Wolf set.”

Laughing to myself I didn’t relish being some kind of gatekeeper. Every one of my friends had asked every question you could think of about the show’s star: Tyler Posey but I had no answers. My dad hit the nail on the head.

“That’s because I’m a beautiful, unique snowflake. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get lucky and I’ll surprise you for your birthday next week.”

We both knew I wouldn’t crack so easy. So happens that fate had other plans for me and my boundaries.

The following week my dad left his wallet and house keys at home which honestly wasn’t strange. He was constantly forgetting the essentials. He would buy conditioner without buying shampoo. He would invite you to lunch just to forget his wallet. He would blame being on set when part of me believe he was just that absent minded.

I was casted to the forgot parts of his brain the same way.

He texted me go bring them to set for him which was fine because my lecture was over early and I had zero weekend plans.

Being on the lot reminded me a lot of my mom. We had a bond because of this lot that kept her King and my keeper from us. We would make our own adventures, explore and pretend to be other people all day while he worked tirelessly.

Until she couldn’t pretend anymore. That was when she decided my dad loved his work more than her. That betrayal extended to me when she moved us into another house, quietly divorcing him and securing half of everything just to make sure we survived.

Everyone called her the gold digging failed artist. Everyone called me a spoiled brat.

I snapped out of my thoughts when the guard handed me my ID back through the car window printing the gate to lifted to let me in. With a big inhale I could almost smell her perfume again, earthy and seductive. Pulling through the stages I found him in the same place he always was, back of the lot, taking up the most space.

I breezed in like I, in fact, owned it. Snatching my sunglasses off my face I found my dad coaching the star through the scene with too much passion. “You love her! I need to see that protective side, Ty. That need. That sacrifice. This isn’t some crush but the mate you’ll have forever.”

She needed that side of my dad when she was dying of cancer alone in a big house without her husband.

“Dad. Keys and wallet?” Turning around he took his belongings from my hands and attempted to awkwardly hug me when it failed.

Shifting my eyes I could feel Tyler digging his gaze into me even deeper. He was wondering why he hadn’t seen me until now, if I was some hostage, if I was absent for a reason. I could see the gears shifting behind his eyes.

Beaming my dad’s hand hovered along my spine as he introduced me, “Tyler, this is my daughter. And a hero. Now I can order sushi.”

Tyler laughed and went back to rehearsal with a couple girls whom I can only assume are in the show too. I told my dad, “Well. I’m gonna get going. I’m gonna see if Alex wants to hang. Maybe a frat party is happening.”

My dad pulled over the chair that was already near him, “We’re about to start. You can’t leave yet.”

So that’s how he was going to force me to be here, cool.

I dropped my head as let my bag drop on the floor loudly, purposely, and I watched the cast hit their marks before a clear action was shouted. I couldn’t deny a shirtless Tyler Posey was easy on the eyes for sure. The scene was dark, emotional and ended with a kiss. Even someone who didn’t watch the show, like me, could feel the impact of the episode. After the director yelled cut my dad started speaking again, “I’ll be home late okay? I have a date right after this. That’s why I really needed my wallet and keys.”

I was shocked. I had a million questions. “Wait, excuse me? You’re dating now? How did you meet? Who is she? Where are you going?”

He laughed, “I downloaded a dating app. Okay? I’m going go to Don Antonio’s with her. She’s a nurse. Busy like me so she should understand how it is.”

Being excited for my dad was one thing, finally he wouldn’t be alone yet I couldn’t help but hate him for it. A part of me expected him to pin for my mother his whole life.

I gave him a giant hug before I told him I was taking off but he held me tighter while saying, “You may be over 18 but I sure as shit will ground you, take your phone and car if I found out you went to a frat party with Alex. Have a great night at home with Netflix’s!”

We both laughed, he trusted me and for good reason.

I was still a virgin. Which was rare for a kid in LA let alone an industry parent.

I grabbed my bag and headed for my car before they locked me in silence with another take or scene. On my way out I crashed into a hard body who apologized immediately, “Shit. I’m sorry. I was rushing. I’m late.”

I nodded signaling it was okay but that didn’t stop him from shouting after me when I walked away. “Hey! Are you new? Do I know?”

I stopped walking backwards while answering, “Nah. Just stopping by. Visiting someone.” With that being all I said I opened my door and smiled before getting in.

.

I knew I wanted to make myself invisible incase my dad came home with his date. It’s not the cool thing to do when you have to introduce your adult age kid after a good meal and before making out.

After I got home from the lot I texted Brody to come over for while. I don’t know how to describe that relationship at all. I’ve known him since we were 5 years old and we were always friends but when we started dating - everything changed.

He was very cute and accessible. All innocent until high school when hormones came into play. We had done everything but go all the way. Lately that wasn’t enough for him…

He came through the door without knocking carrying some beer while I stood at the counter pouring my wine. I felt him push against me, kissing my neck while I pushed the cork in the mouth again.

“Hey beautiful. How was class?”

Brody graduated two years before me and already had a job as a business consultant for a popular firm who advises people on how to be successful, handling money and recruiting for them.

He was stable. He was hot. He was older.

I was feeling frustrated as I took my very full cup of wine and dragged him upstairs behind me by the hand to my bedroom. Every time we were alone with alcohol I always contemplated that I would have the courage to go all the way with him.

Being a virgin still shows anyone how well that went. We got comfortable on my bed fitting like puzzle pieces as I scrolled through Netflix for over 10 minuets searching for the perfect movie.

I felt his hand on my thigh, slightly rubbing as his lips crashed against the side of my face. He felt comfortable so I don’t know why I wouldn’t give in.

I felt his familiar lips against mine and our warm tongues touch. He pulled off his shirt and his husky voice crashed into me, “Take this off baby.”

It was déjà vu all over again. Every time we were alone it was a replay of the same events. There wasn’t any feelings, not the way the movies shaped my expectations.

As he kissed my neck he whispered, “Come on baby. You’re dad isn’t home. Just take off your panties.”

His kisses felt good but not convincing. I whispered his name when I felt his fingers lace inside my panties as he tugged them down my legs.

We fooled around before, he had seen every inch. We kept kissing with our tongues and I felt his body settle between my legs. Reaching for his wallet and he pulled out a condom before his mouth collided with mine again. Pressing my palms again his chest, gently giving myself space, enough to decide on no.

I whispered again, “Brody. I’m not ready. I’m sorry.”

I felt his felt him tense at the rejection, “Why are you being a fucking bitch? How long are we gonna keep playing this game? I’ve seen you naked, I’ve licked your pussy, we’ve showered together.”

His warmth on top of me left as he sat as it came when he pushed his legs off the edge of my bed to put his shoes on. I didn’t even walk him out.

D Y L A N P O V

She smelt like butter and home. She felt safe. She was the most beautiful, sarcastic, tiny firecracker I’ve ever met.

We met on the set of a movie called The First Time back in 2011 and been together ever since. She just got back from Canada filming a TV show Girl Boss for the last 3 months and I couldn’t wait to have her myself.

We both had our own places with our own roommates but we wanted as much time together so she was crashing in my room. And let’s be real, I hadn’t had sex since she left months ago.

She was straddling my legs in her panties and nothing else as I coaxed her out of them. Her hips were rocking over my crotch as she leaned down to kiss me.

Sex was never our problem. We met and practically fell into bed together. Pushing her down onto the bed below me as I pushed myself further between her legs. She felt every inch of my excitement caress her thigh.

I kissed her chest and neck, every exposed inch when my head flicked up at the sound of her phone loudly alerting her she had a text. We both ignored it as I pulled my shirt off.

Another ping. We ignored it again.

I saw her look over almost like she expected a text but couldn’t get to it. Her face went from ecstasy to disappointment. Looking down at her, “We good babe?”

She shook her head, “Yeah, yeah, we’re good. Okay I’m ready, Dylan.”

On my knees, my hands smoothed up her legs until my fingers laced into the straps of her panties. Pulling them down was too easy when I got a glimpse of her wet pussy.

Ping. Ping.

Exhaling loudly, stopping to grab her phone off the night stand I had lost focus enough times to get annoyed. I was going to put it on do not disturb but the texts content was right there on the lock screen.

“Did your flight land? Can’t wait to see you ;)” “He can wait until after I see you first.” “Meet me at my place. I miss that little body.” “Ditch Dylan.”

I felt my heart stop.

Pushing myself to the edge of the bed I contemplated if I was dreaming. Did I fall asleep and have some kind nightmare? Britt, my girlfriend of 6 years was cheating and me. I had proof. I threw her phone across the room in her silence letting it crash against the wall.

She tried to touch my shoulders from behind, on her knees, forcing me to jump up. Pacing I pointed towards my bedroom door. “Get the fuck out. Get out.” She tried to touch me again but I pulled myself away quickly. “Go! Get out of my face!”

All she could say, “Dyl. Baby. Don’t be mad. I can explain. It was a mistake. Just one mistake.”

I was pacing, arms not able to stay by my side and I couldn’t even look at her. “How can you explain that? It’s pretty fucking clear!” She started getting dressed giving up explaining.

As she got dressed she said, “It was one mistake, Dyl. We were apart so long. We were just friends I swear! Please forgive me.” She picked up her phone and jacket to leave. She stood against me best she could at her short height, kissing my chest and still apologizing before exiting my room.

A party couldn’t have came at a better time. I was ready to get wasted. My only hope was that Posey heard everything and would be there as she walked out. His disappointment was damning when he wanted it to be.

[thelunarbar]

Ive decided to rewatch teen wolf which I may end up regretting but here we are.

And just some thoughts on the first ep;

Stiles introduction is amazing. Right off the bat(pun totally intended) he’s snarky and sarcastic and I love it.

Also I feel like it never gets mentioned that he hang upside down from the roof of the deck for substantial amount of time. This is never mentioned again and after these we see he’s not super athletic so how???

I forgot how annoyingly dark the lightening in this show can be 😭

I just wanna see what’s going on that’s not a lot to ask for damn it

Jackson gets more likeable as the show goes on but I cannot stand him to begin with

Also love the growth Lydia goes through from being mousy and a little bit bimbo ish bc she thinks that’s what boys want to being totally herself

Stiles buzz cut is criminal. And he has it for so long 😭 I can’t wait to get to the point when it’s longer

He’s adorable anyways tho

Tyler Posey is not a great actor

Derek is so dramatic and angsty and I love it

Why mother of a teenage boy walks into his room without knocking??? Such a bad idea 😭

Love Mama McCall tho!!! Hands down one do the best tv parents ever! Her and Sheriff Stilinski!!!

Why the hell does Allison go with Derek he’s kinda being a creep and she doesn’t know him?! Does she have no self preservation skills whatsoever? Damn girl. We all know who dies first in a horror movie

The over-dramatization of like everything in show makes it all fucking hilarious when it’s supposed to be serious

Why do werewolves grow side burns 😂

I fucking love stiles jeep(I also drive a Jeep tho mine is red and not the same model as his)

Dylan O’Brien has my whole heart

Scott annoys me to no end. Ik it’s his show but he just drives me more and more crazy as the show progresses

Chris argent has some of the best character development in this show

Poor Derek who has to do his best to keep boneheaded Scott from getting both of them killed

Could def go about it better tho wtf is that convo in the woods 😂 “we’re brothers now”

Also Coach is probably the best character in this whole show. I love Orny Adams.

[llamaqueenprompt]

Love in the Spotlight

Characters: Dylan O'Brien, Reader, Tyler Posey

Not Requested

Word Count: 702

Inspiration: “This sounds a lot like a marriage proposal.” “Maybe it is.”

Since they met five years prior on the set of Teen Wolf, Dylan O’Brien and y/n l/n had been inseparable. They were always together and when they weren’t, they were probably face timing or texting one another non-stop. So when their relationship evolved to a status of way more than friends no one was really shocked.

And this was their first Comic Con as an out in the world couple. 

“Are you nervous?” Dylan asked, his fingers gently running through her hair.

“A little,” she raised from his lap to meet his gaze, “You?”

“No more than my first time” they softly laughed,  taking their last couple of minutes to relax on the couch.

“Everyone get ready you’ll be on stage in 10”

Dylan stood up and extended his hand to y/n, “Ready?” She just grabbed his hand and they got ready to enter.

“An applause for y/n!” The fans clapped and whistled as she walked into the stage with the biggest smile on her face and waving at them. She got to her seat and Dylan pulled out her chair for her before settling into the one beside her. His hand remained on the back of her chair while they clapped for the rest of the cast to enter the stage and make their way to their seats.

“Well, by now most of you know the rules but I will repeat them just in case. Everyone will be able to ask a question, our team will let you know when it’s your turn. Be respectful to the actors and the other fans that are here with you. And most importantly of all, have a good experience,” everyone clapped as the moderator took their seat.

The panel started smoothly, with the cast answering questions about their time on Teen Wolf and sharing funny stories from the set. Dylan and y/n sat side by side, occasionally exchanging loving glances and smiles, making the fans go crazy and already think of the edits they would do later.

“Y/n,” the girl in question took her attention away from Dylan and looked at the fan with a soft smile, “what was the most memorable moment for you during your time on Teen Wolf!”

“Well,” she looked around thinking for her second, “there were so many incredible moments on set, just the opportunity of being on this show with all these amazing people is as memorable as it gets,” everyone chuckled waiting for her to continue, already guessing what she was going to say next, “but if I had to pick one, it would be the day I met Dylan. It was the start of a beautiful journey, not just in our careers but in our lives. That moment was truly special.”

Dylan, with his head leaning on his hand, looked at his girlfriend with heart eyes and reached out to softly kiss her on the temple to which she responded by grabbing his hand and closing her eyes for a moment. The fans in the audience cheered loudly at the sweet moment between the two actors.

As the Q&A session continued, another fan stepped up to the microphone and asked, “Dylan, can you tell us what your future plans are? Both in your career and personal life,”

“Great question first of all, I’ve had some incredibles experiences in my career, and I hope to continue working on projects that excite me and that mean something to me. But when it comes to my personal life,” Dylan paused for a moment, looking at Sophia with a twinkle in his eye, “I do hope to see a big flower arch in my near future.”

The fans started whispering after his response, “Does that mean what I think it means?” Tyler Posey asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes it does.” Dylan said with a goofy smile on his face and eyes glued to y/n’s surprise face totally ignoring the screams from the fans.

“This sounds a lot like a marriage proposal,” Sophia said with a hint of a smile on her face.

“Maybe it is,” Dylan whispered in her ear before kissing her forehead, “you will have to wait and see.”

[kitkatwinchester]

I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS!

Scott has been through soooo f*cking much at this point. SO much. And he's been gravely worried, and he's been horribly upset, and he's been flat-out terrified--most often when it comes to his friends and family being in danger.

But most of the time, he's really good at fighting off and masking that fear in favor of helping his friends and family through their fear, and he's been great at turning his fear into anger and determination against his enemies and struggles.

I don't think I have EVER, in all four years of this show, heard Scott be as utterly terrified as he was when Kate started to put that Berserker mask on him.

That SCREAM.

The SHAKING.

The STRUGGLING against the bonds.

Holy f*ck, Tyler Posey, because you genuinely made me tear up.

All the sh*t that Scott has been through, and THIS is what made him scream like that.

And I don't know if it's because she's gonna turn him into the killer that he's never wanted to be, or because she's going to sick him on his own pack and hope that they kill him, or because he's helpless and hopeless and has no idea how to get out of it, or if it's a combination of all three.

But my heart just SHATTERED, because he is TERRIFIED...and he's all alone.

And I DESPISE that.

And the thing is, I KNOW the pack is coming to save him, and I love that everyone was on the same page around the same time (Derek and Braeden going back to the house and finding Scira gone and the place trashed, Noah and Stiles suspicious that Scira hadn't shown up yet, and Lydia trying to get through to Deaton and succeeding so that they could get Scira's location) and was able to put the pieces together fast enough to get there ASAP.

But they're not gonna get there ASAP enough, and when they do get there, Kate's right--they're gonna have no idea that they're fighting their own Alpha, and I get the feeling that whatever she does to him will make Scott not care that he's fighting his own pack.

And that thought is F*CKING TERRIFYING.

So excuse me while I scream right along with Scott and almost sob my eyes right out of my head.

On a more positive note, I absolutely loved that conversation between Liam and Brett, and I love that Brett and Liam are kind of on the same team (in life, that is) now, because of what Scott did. I also love that Brett helped Liam on the field, and that he gave him that little pep talk about how amazing Scott is, and how amazing Liam can be too. And while my heart is breaking that Liam feels like Scott abandoned him, I have a feeling that, when he learns what really happened, he'll understand, and god forbid, maybe he'll actually TALK TO HIM for crying out loud.

Also, it looks very promising for Parrish getting Argent out of there, and that pep talk was amazing, and Parrish is seriously such a great guy and just so smart and I love him SO FREAKING MUCH. And his EYES GLOWED, and now he's using his power, and Argent is using his adrenaline, and that is PROMISING, and maybe they'll both be OKAY, and GOD I FREAKING HOPE SO BECAUSE IF WE LOSE ANYONE THIS SEASON I'M GONNA SCREAM!

ANYWAYS.

I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS, and I really hope SOMEBODY in the pack is smart enough to pick up on Kate's trickery and SAVE Scott instead of killing him, because THAT IS THE LAST THING WE NEED GOSH DARNAT!!

Using another couple of not-gifs of Liam and Brett's and Parrish and Argent's conversations because they were the only positive things that happened in the last ten minutes and I need something to keep me from crying. :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'(

(Okay but again, THE WRITING IN THIS SEASON I SWEAR TO GOD! <3 <3 <3 <3)

P.S. No, I didn't forget about Peter and Malia--I just chose to ignore it.

Update: I started the next episode and OH THANK GOD!! THE TATTOO!! THE TATTOO IS GONNA BE THE THING THAT SAVES US!! Scott is still under Kate's control, but at least the PACK will know that it's really Scott, because TATTOO!! I HAVE NEVER BEEN AS HAPPY ABOUT THAT TATTOO AS I AM RIGHT NOW!!! ANYWAYS.

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

“Hey you! Yes you! Do you want money? Do you want stability? Do you want to go to hell? Well boy do I have the job for you! Here at Rosey Posey Cafe it is our pleasure to serve a variety of guests magical drinks that you could only dream of!”

“Any human above the age of 18 may apply!”

“You don’t need any experience!”

“I’ll teach you how to read if I have to!”

“If any of this has interested you please call this number and we’ll schedule your interview for as quick as tomorrow! Hope to hear from you!”

You half expect this to be a scam. A weird, furry based scam due to the talking anthro cat from the commercial, but a scam nonetheless. Still, you do need a job, even if it’s fake there’s no harm in trying, right? Right. The start of the number is weird as, well, hell, but that’s to be expected from a hell run business you guess. You’ve yet to really visit hell since the rifts opened up last year but you’ve heard it’s actually pretty nice

You grab your phone from your bedside table and give the weird cat-lady a ring “HELLO!?” Ow, hi, you’re calling to ask about the job position “Oh, my ad worked?!? Yes! So, when can you come down for an interview?”

And the rest is history, well, recent history you guess, seeing as this is your first day. Turns out the cat-man-demon who runs this place was being super legit. Actually, what is his name? “Oh, I don’t think you could pronounce it, but in english I go by Evelyn or Ms. Rose! It’s so so nice to have you as a part of the team!” You’ve heard, repeatedly, ever since she hired you on the spot “Well it never hurts to say something twice!”

Your new boss is more than a bit odd, the whole human sized tabby cat thing aside she’s just, really friendly? To the point it almost seems like she’s fucking with you but…you don’t wanna be rude but there doesn’t seem to be a lot going on behind those eyes. You ask Ms. Rose if your training will start soon “Yes yes yes! Ok, question before we start. Do you know how to read?”

Yes “Perfect! I have a little booklet on how to make all the drinks we serve here. You don’t have to memorize it by any means though, I want this place to have a nice relaxed vibe so there’s no rush. I mean, don’t make a demon wait 10 years for their drink but aside from that you can take your time. Here’s the booklet! There’s rules at the top and two lists below it. One is alphabetical so you can search drinks by name, and the other is based on flavor profile so if someone wants to spice it up a little you can search by the flavors they like”

“If you have any questions you can let me know, but there are a few things I need to show you” He walks me through how to use the Fizzer, which is just a carbonator, the hot plate and sauce pan used for warming, and the blender, each explanation coming with a long warning about how it could interact with my “frail human body” After Ms. Rose finishes telling me about all the tiny pieces I could wind up as if I could somehow fit my entire body into the blender he takes a moment to think

“I’m pretty sure the rest is self explanatory but I’ll be here to chaperone you your whole first day, and never be afraid to ask me for help!” You thank him and ask when the store will open “Hm? It’s been open this whole time!” …Aren’t those open and closed signs supposed to say the opposite of what you are on the back?

“.”

“.”

“.”

“Fuck” Your boss walks dejectedly to the front door and flips the “we’re open!” side of the sign to face outside “Well, I guess we just opened!” She laughs as she springs back over to stand beside me. While we wait I take a second to really just admire this place, it’s a small cafe but it’s incredibly cozy. There’s a lot of dark wood work and fluffy pillows, even a few blankets in a basket with a “please return after use” sign above an empty one beside it, and the whole place just smells…warm?

You’re knocked out of your thoughts by the front door bell chiming “Hello! How can we-oh, it’s you” Ms. Rose’s voice drops all cheer as she greets…Oh my god, it’s Jean Laurent, why the fuck is your first customer a movie star!?! Jean fucking Laurent saunters up to the counter “Hey Evelyn~” “Laurent” Jean laughs “So cold” his gaze shifts over to you, looking you up and down

“Who’s this?” You feel like a deer in headlights, you were ready to serve weird demons not Whole Ass Human Celebrity Jean Laurent “They’re my new employee, and I’ll thank you not to fuck with them” The venom in your bosses voice snaps you out of your little trance, looking over to him you see that his eyes have strained into small slits and his ears are angled back against his head

Ok! Um, you ask what Mr. Laurent would like, he chuckles “Oh please, there’s no need to be so formal. I’ll have my usual, cutie” You can feel your face betray you as all the blood in your body seems to drain into your cheeks. Ok, focus! He wants his usual? Oh, here we go, Jean’s order. Ew. It doesn’t look good but if that’s what he wants then you guess so

You glance back up at your boss. She really doesn’t seem to like him. Huh, you know you probably shouldn’t but you have a feeling she’d get a kick out of seeing him gag a little bit. You fain a bit of cluelessness as you look through the drinks you could make. A Sucker punch looks like it could get a reaction out of him, it’d probably piss him off though. What should you make him?

[idolatrybarbie]

main masterlist | series masterlist | read on ao3

pairings: francisco "frankie" morales x f!reader, marcus pike & f!reader

word count: 5.4k

rating & summary: mature - 18+ only! | Francisco didn’t seem to like you very much. Maybe it was the direct approach you took—not everybody loves being confronted with allegations of terrorism. Or maybe it’s just you.

tags: angst, dark themes, the United States government comes with its own warning, emotional abuse, toxic friendship dynamics, misogyny, grief, discussed past violence.

You wake in a pool of your own sweat. The alarm clock next to you says it’s two o’clock in the morning despite unruly sun shining in through the curtains. Someone has taken a power drill to the soft spot between your temple and left ear. Your skull throbs, throat dry as bone. It takes a moment, cheek squished into the pillow, for you to remember where you are. The blackout curtains of your shoe box apartment would never let the sun in to wake you; hell, there is no sun in New York in the first place.

The memories come in an quick onslaught. Brief flashes of the past two days flit through your mind: D.C. and the White House. Marcus’ intern. All of those flight logs. The shitty little town of Lubbock, Texas.

Looking for a sign? This is it!

Everything clicks. Your curtains wouldn’t dare let a sliver of UV rays pass through the glass of any window, but these aren’t your curtains. This isn’t your apartment and this is not New York. This is a motel—another one—in the unincorporated township of Posey. The Palm Tree Lodge, or something to that affect. Dirty, cheap. You’d managed to haggle the front desk manager into letting you book per night instead of their usual by the hour.

You could go home. Francisco Morales made it clear that he does not want to speak to you. You should go home. Tuck tail and drive to your parents’ place, confess your sins and have them console or confront you. You should call Marcus and tell him you’ve failed. 

Ultimately, you don’t do any of these things. After a long shower, you get in the two-hundred-dollar-a-day truck you’re renting and drive back to where you know Morales lives. It’s faster from the motel than the airport. Pushing the engine and speeding down back roads, you make the drive in twenty minutes. When you pull up to the trailer again, you realize that he’s not there. The truck with the half-crumpled grill isn’t parked out back. No one answers the door when you knock, no signs of life past the old blinds covering every window. Francisco is gone—for the day or forever, you don’t know.

You should be in a cushy Washington hotel room paid for by the company card, writing up story notes to send back to the Post this afternoon. Really, you should be anywhere but here. And yet here you are. You decide, plopping your ass down on the shaded steps up to the trailer’s door, that here is where you’ll stay. He’ll either come back or he won’t. For this, you’ve got the time to wait.

Francisco didn’t seem to like you very much. Maybe it was the direct approach you took—not everybody loves being confronted with allegations of terrorism. Or maybe it’s just you.

Begrudgingly, Mr. Morales let you in.

“What do you think you’re doing, showing up here?” he’d asked.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Trying to help you. If you’d just let me explain.”

“I’m gonna need you to explain how you found me in the first place,” Francisco said.

“Mr. Morales, I understand that you want your privacy—”

“I don’t think you do. If you did, you wouldn’t show up here talking about… What? Extradition? The U.S. government? All this bullshit?”

“Respectfully sir, none of this is bullshit,” you said. “This is very real. This is serious.”

“If the government wants to come arrest me, they can do it themselves. They don’t have to hire some hussy to lure me out first,” he said.

“Excuse me? Is that what you think this is?” you asked.

“Tell me you’re not wearing a wire,” Francisco said.

“I’m not, Mr. Morales. I came here to help you, if you would listen to me. For the third time.”

He remains standing near the door, ready to see you out. He doesn’t believe you.

“Oh for fuck’s sake—” You started picking at the buttons along the front of your shirt. Sleeves rolled to the elbow, you huffed as the fabric fell open, revealing skin as you went. Clavicle, chest, then bra…but no wire to be seen.

Francisco stared at you, brain seemingly catching up with his eyes. You rolled yours, up to the ceiling and back down again.

“You believe me now?” you asked.

He only shook his head. “No.”

Maybe it’s a bit of both.

The weather is boiling once again. The shade that covers two-thirds of your body does nothing to mitigate the humidity. The collar of your shirt sticks to your skin, the grey fabric damp with sweat. It’s comfortable, the oldest item of clothing you still own. Your first big girl purchase after moving out of the house. The Rice University crest has faded with washing and time, the bottom hem threadbare, but you hold onto it. The shirt has too many memories attached to throw it away.

Rice is where you met Marcus. After declining offers from Northwestern and Duke, you showed up on campus totally lost. You thought staying in-state would minimize the lifestyle whiplash, but Houston was a world away from the town you once called home. Marcus had found you, kind of like finding a box of puppies abandoned in the rain. He befriended you and showed you the ropes of adulthood, already a junior in your freshman year.

When he moved three hours away to pursue law at Baylor, your world changed. Marcus said he would visit as much as possible, making good on the promise. Every long weekend, stat holiday, and sometimes just because, his ‘93 Honda Accord would pull up outside your pack rat apartment. He guided you when your parents couldn’t, never having gone to college themselves. He was there when no one else was. When he didn’t have to be. You’ve owed him a lot longer than you realized.

That’s where the unending trust in your relationship comes from. Marcus is good. He’s always had you. Why would that change now?

Something has changed, though. You can feel it. Could feel it on the phone that first time months ago, his voice a little too smooth; lines rehearsed.

Time goes hand-in-hand with change. It’s no shock that Marcus is a little different than you remember. But between the cold shoulder and the subtle manipulation, it doesn’t sit quite right. You’ve started waiting for the other shoe to drop—something you’ve never felt in this friendship before. Locked in a staring contest, the two of you seem to be waiting each other out.

You hope you’re wrong. You hope you blink first. You’re scared of what you will see if you don’t.

The burst of an exhaust pipe rips you from sun-addled daydreams. Eyes open, you watch as a familiar blue pickup pulls in next to yours. Francisco Morales flies out of the vehicle, stalking over. You stand from your place in front of his trailer.

“The hell do you think you’re doing here?” he asks, pointing a finger in front of your face.

“Sunbathing,” you deadpan. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“I told you to get lost.” He makes his way back to his vehicle, pulling a toolbox out of the truck bed.

“And lost I am, Mr. Morales,” you say to the open air. “Lost on why you won’t let me help you.”

“You think your funny,” Francisco says, toolbox swinging by his side.

He bypasses you at his steps, walking up to the door. He shoves a hand in his back pocket, keys jingling when he pulls them out. Seeing an opportunity, you take it, rushing up with tinny footsteps to grab them from his fingers. Francisco spins on his heel, trying to crowd you against nothing as you step away.

“Give those back. Right now.”

You eye the toolbox held in his grasp, the way his fingers flex tight around the handle. He’s resisting an urge that, given his military training, must be hardwired.

“Or what? You going to bash my brains in?” you ask. “I’m trying to keep you out of prison but if you want in so bad, go ahead.”

The muscles in his jaw tense. The toolbox falls to the dirt and gravel with a clatter, tools spilling out on the ground. Francisco says, “You have thirty seconds.”

“I’ve obtained documents—federal U.S. documents—that detail your upcoming indictment and potential extradition to Colombia, Mr. Morales. Whatever you may or may not have done, the government is convinced that you’re guilty. They’re set to hang you. All of you. I’m trying to make sure that doesn’t happen. Please. Let me help you. Let me do the right thing.” Seven seconds to spare.

Francisco’s face is stone, unreadable as he stares at you. With the sun behind him, you see the contrasting light and dark browns in strands of his hair. This man can’t go to prison if only for the fact that he’s too pretty. Still, he seems stubborn as a mule. When he opens his mouth to speak, you brace yourself for another rejection.

“It’s Frankie,” he says.

You blink at him. “Pardon?”

“Not Mr. Morales. Call me Frankie.”

“Frankie, is that a yes?” you ask.

He looks at his shoes, worn and muddy, then back at you. “Yes.”

“Okay, so—”

“Come back this time tomorrow,” Frankie says.

“Are you serious?”

“You wanna help me? Do the right thing?” he asks sarcastically. “Come back tomorrow.”

Then he steps forward, taking his keys from you before turning towards the door. Frankie walks up the steps, turns the key in the lock and disappears into the trailer. You stare at his door for a moment longer, sighing to yourself. You let yourself float back to the car, functioning on autopilot as you hold the steering wheel and drive back to the motel.

Limbs heavy with sunshine, you roll into bed. Part of you wants to call Marcus and gush about the success. You want to hear him tell you that you did a good job. That you’re good, just like him. Something holds you back from reaching for the phone. The sense that he could dismiss you; stay toeing the company line as he tells you that he can’t discuss this on a call.

No, it doesn’t quite feel that way. Disappointment doesn’t catch in your throat as you stare at his contact on your screen. A kernel of something else has lodged itself in your gut, throwing everything off. It’s an overreaction, surely…but you can’t shake the feeling.

You drift in and out of sleep. Strange dreams dance behind your eyelids between intermittent hours of pausing black. Nothing is discernible from anything else, all of it blending into one mess. Your heart pounds when you sit up next, eyes wide in the dark. Deep breaths calm your body, bringing your heartbeat back to something within the territory of normal. You can’t shake the adrenaline coursing through your veins, hands clenched tight at your sides.

You haven’t felt anything that strongly since the arrest. Six years ago, in the events before the courthouse and the lawyer: a federal officer holding you at gunpoint, your own weapons a cup of coffee and a very incriminating file folder; getting on your knees outside of a yoga studio—or was it a convenience store? You can’t quite remember. The memory has been dissected and rearranged too many times for proper examination.

Ever since, you have never been alone again. At first it was real, the ankle monitor on your left side winking at you every so often. The device was constant reminder that you were always being watched. Supervised release, they called it. Reporting to your federal probation officer, you were ordered to never step foot outside of Kendall County for the next two years. No alcohol, recreational substances, or access to any type of computers. Apparently, supposedly committing treason by accessing a government database meant you couldn’t text anyone for the rest of your days.

It certainly felt like your life would end there. Two years. 730 days that never got easier. The looks of shame from your mom started to subside around day 457. Dad was easier to come around, figuring you needed someone in your corner. He helped you get a job working at the local library, completely analog in their systems. The two of you traded off the duties of cooking every week.

The first person you called when it was over was Marcus. Of course. Your best friend, the man who saved you. He had to be the first call.

Despite all odds, he’d answered. You’ve never cried so hard. All you could do was thank him over and over. Between the tears, he managed to tell you about Teresa Lisbon.

You never really saw him as you pieced your life back together, but it always felt like he was there. The position at the library evolved into a spot at the Boerne Star, then at the KSAT station as a scriptwriter. Phone calls were few and far between with Marcus Pike. He was busy in Houston catching forgers and thieves. It always puzzled you, the art obsession. You remembered Marcus in school. He’d wanted to change the world. But this must have been his way of doing that. 

When you told him that you were taking a job in New York, he sounded so…disappointed. There was no other way to put it. You thought he would be proud. After life spun out of your control, you had finally managed to make it somewhere. But his words were placating, trying to conceal the let down with the usual script of excitement. You hung up the phone before Marcus could finish saying goodbye.

Nothing bad has to happen these days for you to lose touch with someone. Maybe that was a lie.

Even with Marcus’ absence in your life, you could never shake the sense of being watched. You figured that was a result of the probation. Once you come to accept those kinds of conditions, they never leave. Even if no one else is watching, you certainly are. Right now, you’re waiting on the moment that you catch yourself.

The Lodge and the room you’re staying in can only be described with the word grime. You can feel the filth on your hands that isn’t visible to the naked eye. The back of the sink is coated in a thin layer of dust each morning, regardless of the toilet paper wipe-down you give it. The only saving grace is the shower; a constant, even-pressured flow of temperate water to take your mind off the past and present.

You should be thinking about Francisco—Frankie. What you’re even doing out here. After months of fishing, you have finally caught him. The question is, what are you going to do with the man they call Catfish?

Ultimately, you start with what you do best: asking questions. But when you get to his place and he lets you in, willingly this time, he can’t seem to answer even the first one.

“Frankie, it’s a simple question. Are you innocent?” you ask him again.

The man meets you with uncomfortable silence, foot tapping lightly against the peeling floor.

“This is the part where you say yes.”

He simply hums, giving you a sniff of his nose. Frankie’s lips stay shut.

“You need to answer the questions if I’m going to help you,” you say, this side of exasperated. The two of you have been sat here for twenty minutes, semi-silently going back and forth over this one question. You have no clue how he’s going to manage the entire list you have prepared.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he finally says.

“Yes or no,” you say. “And the answer’s yes…” Frankie’s jaw twitches as he clenches his teeth. A tell. “The answer is yes, right?”

Another sniffle. You sigh. Clearly this is going nowhere.

“Okay, let’s try a different question. When did you meet Will Miller?”

“No.”

“How am I—” You stop yourself, hearing the strong tone as words burst forth. Pause, readjust. Restart. “How am I supposed to help you if I don’t know anything?”

Frankie sucks his teeth. “There’s a lot I can’t tell you.”

“Then what am I doing here?”

“You tell me,” he says.

“Why do you want me here?” you ask. Frankie meets your gaze before glancing away, the corner of his left eye twitching.

There it is. His body betrays him with each question you ask, bit by bit. He wants you here. Something has led him to allowing you in this space, to let you take up his wasted time.

“Tell me about yourself.” It’s not a question. Men like this, like Frankie, don’t respond to questions. They follow orders and meet demands.

“I’m fourty-two. Five foot eleven, 210 pounds. I like long walks on the beach and candle-lit dinners, and—”

You stand from your seat at his crappy dinner table.

“Shit, wait. Okay,” Frankie says. You don’t look at him, organizing your notes to slip them back into your purse. “I said okay.”

“You’re done with the bullshit games, then?” you ask.

Frankie sighs silently, his chest caving in slightly.

“We grew up in Raymondville. Poorest family on the block, not that that’s sayin’ much. My mother, me, and my little brother. She worked nights as an attendant at the Valley View Inn. Sometimes she’d come home with those, uh…the hotcakes from McDonald’s. You knew it was gonna be a good day when Mom came home with breakfast. My brother always asked her where they got those tiny pads of butter—if they kept hundreds of little containers in the back, like the big tub of margarine we had in the fridge. And she’d always say, descuida, mis pollitos.” Frankie swallows. “Anyway. She’s dead, so.”

Jesus. It really is all or nothing with him.

You say, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s fine. You know, people die,” he says. “Cancer, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“That’s how she died. I figured you might ask. They said they found it a little too late.”

You don’t know what else to say. There’s something plain and aching on his face, an open window to all the hurt Frankie holds over this. It makes you feel bad. Terrible, really. Your mind hitches to the track of what could have been done to make this better. Who could’ve stepped in? Who could have saved this family?

It’s exactly what you want. What you need. This right here? This pain, spun the right way, might just save his life. His buddies too, if they’re lucky. You pretend to scribble something down, clearing your throat before moving onto the next question.

You leave shortly after that, getting through twelve of the fifty questions. Crude notes on his childhood, family life, and a few answers dipping into his time in the military litter your notepad. The experience isn’t exactly Frankie opening up. You’re prying him apart, bit by bit. There’s no guarantee of a pearl waiting for you when everything is said and done; you don’t even know when that will be.

Back at the motel after a criminally long shower, you lie awake in bed. Sleep won’t come no matter how hard you try. At this point, you’ve given up.

Something isn’t sitting quite right. The refusal to spare you even a word, then sliding right into a deeply personal admission is…strange. That’s not how people work. Well, normal people. You’ve known for a while now that these men are not exactly the most well-adjusted folks. Replaying the day in your head, the interaction puzzles you.

You dial Marcus despite your better judgement. He answers on the fourth ring.

“How do you know if someone’s guilty?”

“Jesus,” he says, voice thick with sleep. You hear shuffling on the other end. “It’s four o’clock in the morning.”

“What about it?”

“A little early, don’t you think?” Marcus asks.

“Think of it as returning the favour,” you say. Then, “So, how do you?”

“How do you what?”

You sigh, frustrated, ready to hang up already. “In your line of work as a professional narc—how do you, Marcus Pike, know when a suspect is guilty?”

“My gut.”

“Oh, come on,” you sigh.

“I’m serious,” Marcus says.

“So they teach bowel movements at the academy? Makes a lot of sense, actually.”

“Very funny. I don’t know, uh…usually you’ve got evidence against them.”

“Let’s say it’s circumstantial. Or you don’t know what it is,” you say.

“Like, it’s classified?” Marcus asks. For a moment, all you can hear is his breathing. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing, just ans—”

“Is this about…” he trails off, dodging the unintentional self-incrimination attempt. “Is this about that thing from breakfast?”

“Answer the question,” you say.

“You first.”

“Marcus.”

“If you’re going in blind, you want to observe the behaviour of the suspect. If they’re dodging questions, how they react to pertinent details or things tangentially related to the crime they’re suspected of.”

“What about…manipulation?”

“We see it all the time. Trying to appeal to your better nature, justifying the crimes without directly linking themselves,” Marcus says.

“And?”

“Telling you what you want to hear. Sometimes guys will answer one half of the question but not the other, or something to that effect. A smaller sacrifice to keep the bigger deal under wraps.”

Shit.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asks.

You didn’t realize you mumbled that out loud. “Fine. Sorry to bug you so early.”

“Wait, wait. Hold on. Seriously. Is this about that pilot?”

“I thought—”

“Don’t worry about it. Just answer the question,” he says.

“There’s something off. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it,” you tell him.

Marcus sighs. “Want me to look into it?”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you say.

“You’re not. Consider it done. I’ll let you know if there’s anything later on. Alright?”

You’ve missed this. Missed him. Marcus who helps you, protects you, uplifts you. The one guy who can always get you out of a jam; always has a solution. All of your uncertainty melts away at his question. Marcus is your best friend. He loves you.

“Alright.”

When you pull up to Frankie’s place again, he’s waiting on you. His works boots are scuffed with mud, a shiner bluer than the moon gracing the skin around his right eye. Getting out of your truck, you try to school any look of worry off your face. A neutral mask takes the place where gaping concern should be as you greet him with a quick hello.

“You wanna come in then?” he asks, shielding his face from the sun.

You follow him inside, setting your purse down and pulling out your notepad once again. Frankie hasn’t sat at the table with you quite yet. He stands at his fridge, fishing something out. He comes away from the tall appliance with a clear plastic pitcher of something liquid, vaguely foggy yellow.

“Would you like something to drink?”

Looking up from your notes, you pause to stare at him. It’s the first nice thing he’s done so far in this…working relationship. It takes a moment for your mouth to catch up to your brain.

“Uh, sure,” you say dumbly.

He pours out two mugs of something, both emblazoned with a fiery racing logo. Walking closer to you, he hands you the taller one. You take it with both hands, fingers clutching the ceramic like it’s some sort of precious artifact. Sipping slowly, the drink washes sugar onto your tongue, followed by a wave of mild tang. Lemonade.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Frankie says.

“So I figured we would start where we left off,” you say.

A beat passes where neither of you speak. Then Frankie says, “Can I ask you a question?”

Narrowing your eyes, you say, “Shoot.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why are you trying to help me?” he asks. “Most people look at the things I’ve supposedly done, and then they look at me. Doesn’t usually end up that they feel like helpin’ out.”

“I’m not like most people,” you say.

“That’s pretty clear,” Frankie says.

This moment of whatever ends at that. You delve back into your list of softball questions, writing down brief notes on his answers. Anything here could be good to mine for an article. Background on his family, the shallow waters you’ve broached about the service.

You ask, “What’s life like now?”

Frankie seems to almost flinch, giving you a bit of a double take. “Life now?” he repeats.

“Yeah. What’s the day-to-day of Francisco Morales?”

“Get up around four—except for the days you’re coming around. Shit, shave, brush my teeth. Uh…I usually get to work at six, get off at eight.”

“So it’s dark when you leave and dusk when you get home?” you ask.

Frankie hums, considering this. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You write that down, eyebrows pinching as you swallow down the gloom that rises in your throat. From what you have so far, even if he was guilty, a part of you can’t really blame him. The hand he’s been dealt is dog shit. All those things he’s done for this country, supposedly so great, and this is the life he has to show for it?

For any other profession, being such an expert in his field would have awarded him a comfortable existence. A nice house in some plain, cushy suburb. Two-point-five kids and a dog, a wife. Maybe a divorce, considering his general demeanour, but still. He deserved that life. He deserved a choice. From what you’ve pieced together, it wasn’t an option. Not sustainably.

Finally, you can’t help yourself. “Can I ask what happened to your eye?”

“It’s nothing,” he shrugs. “Little altercation with the neighbour. It won’t be happening again.”

Looking out his side window, you’re only now noticing the lack of the dainty little RV that’s usually parked a few spots away. The body was striped pink and green, faded with sunshine and age. It reminded you of a grandmother’s doily, especially in contrast to the mired trailer of Frankie’s that sat so close by. You can’t imagine anyone living in that thing to have wanted to hurt a fly.

“You get into it with granny over her shortbread recipe?” you ask, laughing lightly.

“The granny’s punkass grandson, actually,” Frankie informs you. “Said some stupid shit. Had no idea what he was talking about, so I set him straight.”

You hum. “Right.”

“If you don’t like my way of doing things, you can leave,” he says, motioning to the door.

The tonal shift gives you whiplash. “I didn’t—” you stop yourself as your phone buzzes, pulling your attention away from him. You slip it off the table, quickly reading the notification.

A message from Marcus. Call me ASAP.

You look up at Frankie again. He’s watching you expectantly.

“Well?” he asks.

“Clearly you’re upset,” you say. “Maybe I should come back another day.”

You’re confused and, you hate to admit, a little hurt. Just when you start to see some progress here, Frankie rips it away. Quietly, you pack up your things and turn to leave. You’re waiting for that sudden epiphany, that movie star moment when he’s supposed to realize what an ass he is and hastily apologize. It doesn’t come, and you let the screen door slam shut behind you.

Standing by the door to the truck, you call Marcus.

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask.

“I found some new information,” he says.

“Alright. Anything good?”

“Where are you right now?”

“Just leaving the Morales place.” You pull open the driver’s side door, tossing your purse into the passenger seat. “What’d you find?”

“You should get out of there first,” Marcus says.

“Just tell me, god. The suspense is killer.”

He says your name, snapping you out of your lackadaisical daydream. “He’s guilty.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve got security camera images from the drug lord that they supposedly shot and robbed. They’re all here. All five of ‘em.”

You freeze. “You're sure?"

"Certain."

"How could I have missed this?” you ask.

“You didn’t miss anything. Highly classified. I’m even breaking a few too many rules for the department’s liking right now looking at it myself,” Marcus says. “They buried the good stuff, kid. I’m assuming so they had it in their arsenal should this thing go to trial. To stop fuckers like us from doing what we’re trying to do.”

“And what is that exactly?”

Your whole world comes crashing down in one phone call. How sad.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. You thought you were doing the right thing,” he says. “Just…get out of there. Come home.”

Home. That sounds like exactly what you need, ego bruised and hope shattered. All of this work, and for what? Another mistake. You’re still the same fuck up you’ve always been.

“Hey!” you hear a deep voice call from behind you. Turning, you watch Frankie descend from the porch of his trailer, holding something.

“What was that?” Marcus’ voice seems so out of place here.

“I’ll call you back,” you mumble into the speaker.

Hanging up before Pike can get another word in, Frankie’s walking up to you now.

“You forgot this,” he says, presenting you with a pen.

“Thanks.” You pluck it from between his fingers, manner cool and reserved.

“Look, I’m sorry. I need to stop doing that,” Frankie says. Here comes the movie moment. “D’you wanna come back inside?”

Here, you’re at a crossroads. Two paths lay before you, distinctly forked down the middle. Go to Marcus… Or stay with Frankie.

There’s that familiar warmth that doesn’t seem to always welcome you anymore, but when he does, it’s a refuge from everything else. But when it’s cold, it’s freezing—Marcus can ice you out oh-so-easily these days. Then Frankie, an uncertain tiptoe around a test of rusty nails. On the other side is a sweetness that you’ve only seem a glimpse of, a sadness you can feel in your chest. Something tells you that’s a rabbit hole you’re never leaving if you decide to drop down.

The decision is unfortunately yours. You hope Marcus can forgive you.

You slam the truck door shut with your elbow. Pointing the tip of the pen at Frankie, you stare him down. “You have to stop being such an ass. It’s not doing you any favours.”

That manages to pull a laugh out of him, breathy and garbled in its tired reluctance. He looks like a man who hasn’t laughed in a long time.

Back inside his crowded home, you bypass the chair and sit right on the edge of the table. Feet dangling, you set your purse down where your seat usually is.

"I've got a question for you," you say.

"Isn't that your job? You've got about a million of 'em," Frankie says.

Ignoring the dig, you press on. "You did it, right?”

"Excuse me?"

"What they say you did. The heist, the money, the murder. That all happened?" you ask further.

Frankie looks away, jaw clenching under muscle. He'll need to work on his poker face. "You saw the files, surveillance photos. You know what it says."

"If you think I'm the type to blindly trust the United States government, you are sorely mistaken," you say. "The files say one thing—they tell one narrative, give me certain thoughts. I wanna hear it from you."

That seems to pique his interest. "Certain thoughts...such as?"

You kill his line of questioning as quickly as it blooms. "It doesn't matter what I think. What matters is if you're guilty. So I'll ask again: did you do it?"

You know he did. Hell, in all likelihood, he knows that you know. This is a test. A simple regimen of pass or fail to see if you should even keep going with this.

"Yes," Frankie says. He doesn't look at you, almost like he can't. The word falls from his mouth like a tooth on a string; you've slammed the door shut and yanked it from him.

"Good," you say. He raises an eyebrow. "Getting you to admit it now will be easier to maneuver in the story. And in court."

"I don't understand."

"If you're going to prison, it should be here," you say. "Not because you deserve it. But because over there, you’ll die." 

[lily-drake]

The Demon's Queen

Chapter Fifteen

First <> Previous

One month passed both far too soon and not soon enough.  She hadn’t received any information from anyone on what she would be doing, but her training was ramped up tenfold.  She hadn’t been this sore and bruised since her first few months of training.  

“What on Earth was that ?”  Maha bellowed from where she stood on the side of the mat.  Marinette grit her teeth as she ducked under another blow made by the bulkiest of her oh-so-precious Jackals.  

“I must agree with you Maha,” Hadid sighed, “and here I thought she had finally mastered the move.”  He sounded disappointed and it pulled at something inside Marinette.  For some reason, a part of her felt upset at the thought of upsetting Hadid.  She could care less about Maha, but failing Hadid made her want to fight even harder.  She felt like she needed to prove herself to him.

Feigning a punch she ducked before kicking out and pushing him off valence slightly.  But the second that it took for him to fall back into position was just enough for Marinette to get close and hit multiple of the central pressure points she learned about from Tomoe, paralyzing his arms, shoulders, and neck.  Then with one last well placed kick he was down with her on top of him squeezing his windpipe until he tapped out as best as he could with his paralyzed arm.

Marinette stood up.  She expected her legs to start shaking, for her breath to be staggered, to feel scared about what she had just done.  But no, she felt calm, her legs were steady, and she felt proud of herself.  She felt like she had finally accomplished something great.

She looked up, her face an emotionless mask.  Maha had her usual displeased frown, not giving away any emotions.  But when she looked up and saw the large Cheshire grin Hadid was giving her she felt a cold shiver of fear run down her spine.  His face was unnatural, but it showed just how proud he was of her.

“Still a long way to go with you, but it’s a good start,” Maha finally growled out, “at least you have proven ready for your mission.”

Marinette stared down at one of the men that had caused her so much pain and distress.  She should despise him for the pain he’s put her through, after all he chose this life.  He chooses to live a life that causes the pain and suffering of others.  She should just leave him to get back up on his own.  After all, it was just a training spar.

Hadid’s voice from so many months ago rang through her mind, “Your defiance against your allies could lead to your demise.  Be careful of who you make your enemies.”  Marinette didn’t like it, but she knew what she needed to do. 

She lifted her hand and was actually rather surprised when the man—she’d been sparring him for months now and still didn’t know his or the other’s names—took her hand.  Like usual he didn’t say a word and when dismissed by Maha, he disappeared.

__________ Damian was worried about sending her on this mission.  It was the strangest thing he’d ever felt before.  Never once had he worried over the safety of his servants.  If they died it was simply because they were not strong or skilled enough to over power their enemies and return.  But this, this was different.

He had chosen Marinette himself, had hand picked her to be part of his most elite.  If she died here it would not only mean that she was not strong enough, but that he had made a mistake in his beliefs.  He could not allow that to happen.

His mother was gone—something about a private affair she needed to see to—so she couldn’t tell him if he had indeed been mistaken in his decision or not.  He didn’t feel like he had made a mistake, he needed her to see exactly what they’re fighting and why.  Needs her to see that he is not the villain.  Of course he is no hero either, heroes are naive and can only bring themselves to carry out the barest sentence of justice. 

Take his father as an example.  He calls himself and his little Posey “the heroes of Gotham”, but nothing ever changes.  His enemies always escape their cages, always kill more innocents, always spread destruction and chaos, and then what happens to them?  They’re sent back to their broken cages only to reoffend again and again.  

Todd had the right idea when he broke the moral code and killed the monsters he found.  With them gone and the others controlled under Hood’s reign, the people under his protection are truly safe.

Damian stared out across his balcony overlooking the entire base.  He watched the silhouettes of Marinette and her team—The Jackals Maha liked to call them—headed towards the entrance where a helicopter was waiting to take them on their mission.

Something was pulling at his chest.  A strange dropping sensation in his gut telling him to follow her.  Telling him that something would go wrong and that he needed to be there to ensure her return.  He ignored it.  She would return, she is strong enough that she will live through this.  It’s not even that complicated of a mission.  The feeling of unease still remained.

__________ The helicopter ride to the “airport” was an interesting—unsettling—experience.  All four of them, plus the pilot—so five—sat in complete silence the whole way.  They were all dressed in their robes, faces covered and weapons strapped and hidden all along their bodies.  Once they made it to a secret bunker of sorts they switched to a messenger plain where the shortest of the Jackals took over and began to fly them to G* knows where.

“I should probably know your names while we are on this mission if we want to communicate effectively.”

“And you will need a code name so we do not blow your cover.”  The smallest of the group said tersely.  The voice was obviously female though she spoke with a slight accent, but it was still a shock to hear it after so many months of nothing but silence.  She had honestly wondered if all of them were actually mute or not.

“You may call me Rajani.  My brother,” she pointed to the most muscular of them, “is Azrael, and he,” she pointed to the second man, “is named Hosaam.  Now we must pick a name for you.”

“Khata sounds just fine to me,” the pilot—Azrael—grunted.  Marinette’s brows furrowed at that.  Through her studies of the Arabic language she had quickly found the name Maha had given to her as one of the biggest insults she had received.  Everyday she would call Marinette a mistake.  Everyday she would say that the name Khata was the only thing she had truly earned.  It burned her insides and made her push herself if only to prove her wrong.

“I agree,” Hosaam nodded, arms folded in front of him.  “It is a good name for this mission.  No one would suspect.”  The others nodded allowing the silence to fill the space once more.  Marinette but her lip.  She did not wish to be known in the field as “The Mistake”, but she knew arguing would only activate her supposed Allie’s, so she remained silent.  

It took nearly 11 hours for them to reach their destination.  11 hours were the only noise was the whirring of the plane’s engine.  It made her skin itch, but Marientte did her best to make as few movements as possible.  She didn’t trust that either of these three wouldn’t try something if she left herself vulnerable in any way.  Marinette was honestly surprised with how smooth the plane ride went.  She had assumed that–with her luck–something would have gone wrong.  But no, from the air to landing not a single misfortune moment had occurred–she wondered if that was because she no longer had any access to her miraculous.  

They had landed in a sort of bunker, away from the public and any cameras that could have picked them up.  She followed the Jackals to a sideroom where a large table sat in the middle of the room with a set of black blue construction manuals.  “Where are we?”  Marinette asked, breaking the tense silence.

“ Fortaleza, Brazil,” Rajani stated, shoving a flashlight into her hands.  The others gathered around the table and turned their flashlights on before shining it above the paper, revealing the structural design of a large warehouse with text written all around it in the League’s Dialect.  Marinette followed suit as she studied the design and read about their mission.

A large worldwide trafficking ring will be meeting in this city in two days.  The ring leader will be the last to arrive minutes before they begin auctioning off hundreds of children to the highest bidders.  Nearly everyone attending are people that oppose The League of Assassins and have been trying to destroy it.  Their job is to break into the event, free the children, and kill everyone in attendance ensuring the safety and secrecy of the League and its existence.

The warehouse was large, and located in a deserted part of the city.  It was far enough away from the Favelas to keep the public away while also close enough to not be a conspicuous meeting place.  In order to ensure a peaceful gathering, the gangs and cartels were all paid off as were many of the cops.  

“It will be best if we can get in and out.”  Rajani began to plot, “I will ensure that all of the exits are sealed off while Hosaam sets up a trap.  Khata and Azrael will be in the audience ensuring crowd control.  We have the guest list, so it is of utmost importance we ensure everyone on this list only enters the building.  I wonder if it would be best for one of us to go in as one of the children though,” everyone’s gaze turned to Marinette.

She felt a shiver up her spine from how intense everyone’s eyes were.  They were all cold, calculating, distant.  They were assessing in their minds whether or not she would actually fit in, and unfortunately for her, it was rather well.  Marinette was short, her full height only coming to 157.48 centimeters (5ft 2in).  She was petite, and was still covered in large bruises from her shoulders down from all of the sparing she has had to endure.

“It would make finding and freeing the children more manageable,” Azrael grumbled, tilting his head slightly as he studied her, “as long as she put up a convincing act.”

“And what if I’d rather not be the caged child,” Marinette snapped, meeting his gaze.  She couldn’t see it as he still wore his mask, but she could feel his smirk, his cold brown eyes boring into hers.

“You don’t get a choice.”  The coolness of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, but she didn’t let them see how much he frightened her.  

What if she became like that?  Cold, uncaring, cruel.  How would she ever be able to live with herself?

“Where are we supposed to take the kids once they’re free,” Marinette snarked, changing the subject, “we aren’t doing all of this just to let them wander off and get taken by someone else.”

“The Demon’s Head has a plan.  We take them to the rendezvous point four miles East of the warehouse–transport will be provided.  Once they are dropped off we leave,” Rajani reported calmly.  “We have our own rendezvous  a mile north from there.  If we do not arrive by twenty-two hundred hours we will be stranded here and forced to return in disgrace.”

This was a lot for Marinette to take in.  Here was a top secret ninja league that had kidnapped her rescuing a bunch of children while also killing the children's tormentors.  What was their goal here?  Like Rajani had started, there were going to be hundreds of people who planned against The League here, and their main purpose was to eliminate them–Marinette wanted to gag–but why save the children.  Why not just let them die as well in the collateral?  Why go through the trouble of ensuring they’re safe at all?

“What’s the most efficient way to kill the others?  There will be hundreds of people, and if even one person senses something off or dies too early, everything will be over.”  Hosaam spoke for the first time since the flight, nearly making her jump.  His voice was rough and deep, deeper than she imagined, though she didn’t know why.

“Poison is out of the question, too easy for something to be messed up in the interim,” Rajani muttered to herself as he brought her hand up to cup her covered chin.  “There are too many people for a frontal attack, explosions hold too much risk to the cargo,” Marinette bit her lip to keep her from lashing out at calling the kids “cargo”. 

“We could gas the place.  First we could gas the place.  Sleeping gas first, then nitrogen gas.  Kills them fast and is untraceable.  We get in, then we get out,” Hosaam supplied.  

“We’d have to get the kids out first, kill the guards and switch them places, but it should work.”  Rajani agreed with a firm nod.  Reaching across the table to grab a single match, lighting it against the table before tossing it onto the blueprints.  Marinette watched as the blue paper material burned black and red, turning to ash in front of her eyes.  She couldn't help but think of a dress that she’d like to make based on the burning paper flying around her.

Next

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[themultifandomgal]

Tyler Hoechlin- Our Love

The Hollywood Reporter Interview

August 2012

"Do I have anything in my teeth?" I ask Tyler before we sit down on a couch together

"No your all good" I give him a smile before sitting down. Next to us is Crystal and Posey and next to them is Holland and Colton

"Are you guys ready?" our interviewer Haley asks

"Yes" we all say getting comfortable in our seats

"Ok so erm they just announced that you guys have been renewed for season 3 which is going to be 24 episodes"

"Yeah I'm a little nervous to see how that's going to turn out" Posey replies "I'm stoked don't get me wrong because we're going to be in LA which is where most of us live instead of Atlanta, I love Atlanta but it..."

"It's cold" Colton says making me chuckle

"It's hot in the summer" I reply

"YN what's it going to be like for you since you have to move to LA for the filming?"

"Errm I'm nervous. I'm keeping my apartment here in Atlanta for when I'm back home. I'm not used to being away from my parents for so long so it's going to be strange"

"Have you found a new place to live yet?" Haley asks

"Yes I have. It's just a 1 bedroomed apartment, but it's big enough for me"

"And obviously that means that this show is really successful becausethey're putting enough faith in you guys to do 24 episodes right. What do you think about the show makes it so

popular?"

"It's very appealing in a lot of different ways, like it's super relatable. First of all like the situation's that the kids go through, most of them least, you know high school first love. Getting bit by random people in the woods. Happens to me at least once a week" Posey jokes making us all chuckle a little "also you know it appeals to

every type of age and person because it's got awesome romance awesome comedy and action and character building it's err.. any help guys"

"For me what I think is so appealing and for a lot of people who I've talked to, is that the heart of the show is really the relationships and I think our created does a really good job of making sure that those relationships are very similar to what would happen at home and you know in the students life" Crystal says.

We move on to talking about the rest of season 2 and what is going to be happening

"Can you tell me everything that happens in the rest of season 2"

"No but what we can say is there's going to be a bunch of fights" Posey starts off

"Death" Holland adds in

"Everyones relationships are going to be tested" I say

"Lydia will finally know she's on a show about werewolves so I'm excited to see how our characters pick sides”

“Is there anything you’d like your characters to do?” Haley asks

“I want Scott to play the guitar, that’s basically it”

“I think it would be interesting to see Allison as a schizophrenic”

“I want to see Stella’s softer side more. I know we get a touch of that around Derek and their relationship but she’s got some walls to break down and I think it would be interesting to see her vulnerable in season 3” I say to Haley

“Since we’re at comic con what do you guys geek out about?”

“Space” I reply “it’s very fitting my character on the show is called Estella since in Latin that means star”

“YN has her own telescope and books on space” Ty says looking at me smiling

“I made these guys stay up till like 3am the once to watch a meteor shower”

“Wow. And what about the rest of you guys?” Tyler talks about his love for game of thrones, Posey and Holland talk about halo. We then sum up the rest of season 2 then we’re done for the day. We all head back to our hotel to get ready to go out for dinner later on in the evening.

[exposewolf13257]

I’ve just been scrolling through your page and seeing Tyler say he is the show and he wants to be respected for carrying teen wolf on his own like I love the show and he was great as Scott but let’s be honest half the people maybe more who watch teen wolf only really stayed past the first episode for stiles like the show wouldn’t be even half of what it is without stiles

Yea, How can you run Teenwolf show by himself he too edgy to have his ego on his mouth since his Father teach him basic about being actor… but If people love stiles and derek they can believe the show was carried for Dylan and Tyler H.. but no these posey fans are delusional about saying scott getting hate for his Race color… or People want watch sterek but he gets cancelled because he called out sterek bizarre weird…no because they should know that posey is a douchebag b*tch

[scilessweetheart]

ranking actors by how good of a job they did in teen wolf: the movie

1. vince ATE. this was HIS MOVIE. it didn’t matter that he was new. it didn’t matter that i only kind of liked his character. he showed up like rent was due, playing injured and desperate and needing to please just like the original teen wolf.

2. holland never misses. from her hurt watching allison fight, to her soft looks with scott, to her using her banshee powers. she stepped back into being lydia martin like no time had passed.

3. tyler hoechlin. my life, my love. he didn’t get a lot of emotional range with his scenes which is why he isn’t higher, but i have no doubt he had the potential to do it. he was the same as i remember him, but also had those small changes just from him having a kid and growing up.

4. colton did a great job, but also he was basically playing himself. no real acting was done, but it was believable and entertaining, so i’m still counting it.

5. tyler posey can play scott so well. but he was too excited to be in the movie that he couldn’t really play anything but wistful and earnest.

6. it feels odd to put linden here because he had such a small role, but i love this man and his character so we’re doing it anyway. he did such a great job as the sheriff and still playing dad to all of the kids even though they’re now grown. however, his sassy side left with stiles and i will never forgive him (but mostly the writers tbh) for that.

7. ian bohen had such a strong entrance and then… nothing. i don’t know what was up but he just stopped acting half way through the movie. also props for sniffing and crawling on all fours with a straight face.

8. ryan played parrish so two dimensional the whole movie. malia comments on a look he gives and he’s just there like “what look 🧍🏼‍♂️”

9. i love shelley hennig. i really do. but they’re trying to give malia depth and she refuses to lean into it. she’s going to date parrish after this, and she doesn’t even seem to really like him.

10. jr bourne. WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU MAN. if there was one thing i could count on it was that man and he turned into some like poetic hipster with residual soldier in him.

11. crystal reed did a great job acting. that’s not arguable. the realization when her memories come back, the soft looks scott, the inner turmoil. that being said… she didn’t do a good job of being allison. her expressions weren’t as full and dynamic as they were in the show and it didn’t give her the same energy. she might as well have been a different character for me.

other comments:

- amy workman (the girl who played hikari) had very little range, but they downplayed her brand new character and this is her first movie role, so no hate to her, she got thrown in the deep end.

- melissa wasn’t in it for me to comment on anything. not her fault though, im so sorry they did you so dirty ma’am. same with dylan and khylin. i know they would’ve stolen the show.

[buckybarnesss]

I have actually heard that they’re writing a second one and it does crack me up a lil because it’s gotta be just fun for them. Like. Why else would they do it at this point

teen wolf is jeff davis's baby. he won't ever let it go. hell or high water.

i have my own theories on canon. on how things shook out and how some things didn't. i think i've said elsewhere that i believe he always wanted to make derek an alpha again. that he wanted derek to go through an arc where derek finally believed he was worthy of being an alpha. that scott becoming a true alpha was proof of concept.

hoehclin leaving forced them to stop his character arc elsewhere. it was a good place for it to end in the show but i think there was more in mind.

i haven't watched the movie myself (yet. i will at some point) but i know enough.

there is a huge amount of layered significance to derek's supposed death. i don't believe he's dead at all actually and if he is dead than there's a way back.

but mostly they really, truly need to have dylan come back. i know people like to say dylan hates teen wolf and doesn't want to ever return and i've never gotten that impression. not wanting to be type cast and being kind of over doing the same thing isn't hate. like posey i think he has a complicated relationship with the show for various reasons but that's me speculating. he did allow them use of the jeep after all but i believe it really came down to scheduling.

[givethemsmut]

The Pack | Chapter Two

Characters: Dylan O’Brien, fem!reader

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien, Dylan x You

After Brody left I texted Alex, my best friend, filling her in on what happened. I can’t believe he was still pushing me for more.

Waiting for her text back I logged onto Instagram and saw a message from Tyler Posey himself. I was shocked and startled he found me from just my first name. We didn’t have any mutual friends that I knew of other than my dad.

I read the message: Hey, I met you on set today, I’m having a house party. Come through. Text me for the address.

I texted Alex the screenshot of his message and got nothing but an explosion of emojis. She was semi obsessed with Tyler Posey and Teen Wolf. I told her I’d get dressed and to pick me up in 20 minuets. A party sounded like the perfect way to forget Brody and probably the end of our friendship.

He was my best friend and we had crossed a line we couldn’t come back from.

I threw on some converse, jeans and a crop top with a cute bra peaking through. I pulled my hair out of the loose bun and made sure my mascara was perfect. I looked at myself in the mirror wondering if I was some kind of freak for not having sex yet before grabbing my clutch before heading outside.

Texting my dad so he wouldn’t worry I made sure to leave my location out. He wasn’t going to willingly let me party with a cast of actors my age.

Alex was beyond excited, “Is Tyler into you? Are you into him? Is he free game?”

I laughed knowing her obsession, “Alex, have him. He’s not my type. All serious, brooding, adventures. All yours.”

Alex laughed, “He isn’t the kind of guy to wait for sex either. He seems like a ladies man!”

We pulled up Tyler’s Hollywood house which was more modest than I thought. We rang the doorbell waiting outside when the oversized door flung open with Tyler holding a cold beer. “Come on in! Hey! Glad you could make it. Who’s your friend? I’m Tyler.”

Alex was a blonde bombshell so I wasn’t surprised he was checking her out. I introduced them to each other as we came inside and Tyler immediately showed us around.

“This is my place. Dyl and myself live here when we aren’t filming. Upstairs is off limits. Drinks are in the kitchen. The rest of the cast is here too.” He turned to Alex, “Can I make you a drink?”

He offered out his hand and she gladly followed, turning her head back at me in excitement. I followed along as the third wheel knowing beer was close by and I much needed one.

As I walked by the living room I noticed a giant fake Christmas tree and it was July. Close by the guy I bumped into was dancing with a beer in his hand. I figured he must have been part of the cast, he just looked MTV, yet I couldn’t help but smile at his happiness.

Tyler made both of our drinks with vodka, sliding it over to me and I slammed it back like I was a pro when really I wasn’t at all. I was a light weight on a mission to feel a buzz ASAP.

I let them flirt as I wondered around with another drink in my hand. I made my way past the people laughing and drinking down a hallway. They had art on the walls representing street art, tattoos and tribal work. I was surprised and inspired by the raw art.

Stumbling into a room that had the door cracked and wasn’t upstairs so that must of meant it wasn’t off limits. It was filled with awards, plaques and mile markers of their careers and lives. I saw a photo hanging of Tyler and the kid I ran into. He must be the room mate, Dylan.

I turned around and he was standing in the door way just watching me smiling. “Hey, you’re the girl I ran into. So what were you doing on set? Stalking Posey?”

My non-existent amusement was obvious, “So you live here too?”

He came inside the room and leaned against the desk, “I’m Dylan. You know Posey is talking to some blonde, right? You might wanna actually try flirting if you want his attention.”

I laughed knowing far too well he wasn’t my type, “Not interested in him. I have – had – it’s complicated and not really your business.”

He smirked, “You a fan of Teen Wolf?”

I walked out of the room down the hallway more, “Never seen it. Can you get me a refill? Thirsty.” He was trying very hard to gain any kind of information he could but it wasn’t working. He almost laughed, looked down and took my cup anyways.

He turned around reaching out, “Stay here. I’ll be back.” I was between another door way leaning against the frame as I nodded. “Use a heavier hand than your roommate.” I added as he walked away.

I was feeling buzzed and the drink he was getting me would be my 3rd. The room was empty, blank. I slide down the wall to sit on the floor when he came back with my empty cup and a bottle of Jack Daniels. “How’s this? I don’t know about you but I need a personal bartender tonight.”

I held up my cup silently as he poured and sat down too. I gave him a bone, “So Dylan, where’s your girlfriend or you a ladies man like your bestie?”

He signed and downed his drink, “Well we were in the middle of fucking and her phone went off-“ he paused unsure if he should say anymore. “It was whoever she’s been fucking behind my back.”

I felt awful for asking. “That’s never fun. Sorry dude.”

He leaned in pouring us more, “What’s complicated about your shit?”

Drinking my whole cup before going into it, “My best friend wanted to have sex and I didn’t. It’s complicated. We treated each other like a romantic relationship but it wasn’t.”

Dylan laughed, “So he was your friend with benefits?”

“Not exactly.” I stood up bored with the blank white walls, “You gonna give me the upstairs tour?” I was tipsy. I felt like I couldn’t stand straight up and he wasn’t any better as he got up.

“Hell yeah! Let’s go!” I followed him holding the bottle of whiskey as we snuck past the living room filled with the cast and their close friends. I didn’t see Alex in the crowd but the kitchen was out of view so I wasn’t worried. We went through a dark hallway past a bedroom with the door not closed all the way as Dylan peeked in and closed the door. He turned laughing, “Sorry. Ignore that.”

I only got a glimpse of the R-rated version of their own private party with a slender female riding someone I could only guess was Posey since the upstairs was off limits. Alex was the only blonde at the party I saw so I now knew where she went.

Dylan pushed open the door at the end of the hallway, “Welcome to my room.” I went inside immediately sitting on his bed taking my shoes off and as I took the room in I noticed the panties on the bed next to me. Looking down not moving I said, “Can you get rid of these? Kind of a bad juju.”

He noticed my vibe and lunged for the panties, “Shit! Sorry! Fuck.” He threw them away in his bathroom and sat down next to me offering me the bottle in which we beginning drinking out of now. His room was white, navy blue bedding, clean, some albums and what looked to be items from movie sets.

“You weren’t kidding about the almost sex…” I tried to fill the silence and that was the only thing I was thinking.

“Yeah, sorry. You want a pair of sweat pants? Get comfy.” I let my body lay back in some failed effort to feel less dizzy, “boxers sound better.”

He walked over to his draws and pulled out a black pair of boxer briefs and tossed them over to me. I stood up slowly as I unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down my legs. Dylan didn’t take his eyes off me and I forgot how comfortable I was.

He coughed when my panties were revealed, “Um… I should leave the room… privacy.”

He didn’t attempted to move, stuttered and I simply laughed, “Why? It’s just panties… We’re adults, aren’t we?”

He changed the subject quickly, “You hungry? I’ve got the munchies. I’m gonna get us food. My laptop is there is you wanna put on something to watch.” I laughed as I pulled up his boxer briefs that felt like bike shorts but comfy.

He left the door open some as I decided to stand on his bed, I had a sudden urge to jump so I did. The alcohol was setting in and I wasn’t sober enough to watch a movie. I undid my bra under my shirt and tossed it to the floor with my jeans. I kept jumping til he returned with pizza bites, hot pockets and chips. He wasn’t kidding when he had the munchies.

He laughed and jumped up on the bed after setting the food down. I stopped suddenly and laid down, “Too much jumping. I have class early tomorrow. Save me, I don’t wanna go.”

He laid down too, “Well, you’ll be too hung over for classes.”

I had never felt this comfortable, not even with Brody. With the help of alcohol I sat up and removed my shirt, “Do you wanna kiss me?” His mouth opened without any words. He leaned in kissing me gently with his hands on the side of my face. He felt warm, soft.

The rest was a blur. I lost some memories but I still couldn’t find the will to regret it.

I felt more myself with Dylan than I had with Brody, my own father, my friends and Dylan got the one part of me I had been toting around like a prize.

[prophecey]

* . ⊹  BRIDGERTON CHARACTERS AND VERSES

CANONS :

so far i have added anthony bridgerton, sophie beckett and violet bridgerton ( with a canon and a younger verse ) i may consider adding more canons as i read through the series, but also if there is anyone you want to write against, let me know.

ORIGINALS :

benjamin de vaillant — ben's mother passed away first, then his father a few weeks later. they say the late king died of a broken heart. ben was named king very prematurely and he was not ready to bear the weight of the crown. society pressured him to find a wife, but he had no luck in france, so he accepted the queen of england's offer to participate in their current season to try to find a wife.

drusilla lovelace — the lovelaces are cursed. at least, that is what the people of the ton whisper about whenever one of the surviving members of the family walks through the market or shows up to an event. in recent generations, lovelace women have passed away at a young age, usually shortly after giving birth to one or more heirs. it is dru's turn to be presented to society, but as expected, she is having a hard time finding potential suitors.

indira petrova — indy is in her second season, but she's more interested in the other girls presenting themselves to society than she is in any of her potential suitors. her mother keeps pressuring her to find a husband, and her father has even threatened to marry her off to one of his friends if she doesn't accept a marriage proposal soon. in her first season, she was proposed to three times, making a mockery of her family ( according to her parents. )

josephine elmsworth — posey has waited her whole life for her season to start. she's idealistic with her head in the clouds and she can't wait to fall in love. her older brother jules is presenting her to society since her father passed away a year ago. at least, he was supposed to be presenting her, but he's too busy flirting with all the other girls with no intention of finding a wife.

VERSES :

alex claremont-diaz — as the only son of american royalty, alex is very well known, and his hand in marriage has been the talk of the ton. unfortunately for the ladies of the season, he seems to be noncommittal in the pursuit for a wife, as he sneaks around with a british noble, and still a hangable offense.

daniel le domas — daniel would be a rake if he had any motivation. instead of meeting potential suitors, he spends most of the time at the taverns. his family was very well known around the ton . . . for all the wrong reasons but they all died in a tragic house fire. now lord le domas is head of the house and the talk of the ton, but he wants nothing to be disassociated from his family so he can move on.

evie grimhilde — lady whistledown called her the season's sapphire instead of a diamond due to her signature royal blue dresses. she entered her season in a bid to get away from her evil queen mother. the grimhildes were once one of the most loved families in england before their titles and land were stolen away from them.

grace le domas — grace is a dowager after her husband and his family were all killed in a tragic house fire ( except for one of his brothers ) on her wedding day. now she's just trying to survive in the ton without a husband or any land while dispelling any rumors about her and the family she was supposed to be married into.

rebekah mikaelson —  as the youngest surviving member of the mikaelson family, and the only girl, her presentation was highly anticipated about the ton. unfortunately for rebekah, the three brothers in town have a terrible habit of scaring away any of her potential suitors instead of helping her secure an engagement.

rosalie hale — rosalie was orphaned at a young age and taken in by a wealthy family. even though she is not biologically their child, they have always treated her like she was, and that included presenting her into society, but she proved to be difficult, showing no real interest in finding a husband, at least in the traditional way that society expected her to. she participated in three seasons before she stopped and started supporting her siblings in their pursuits.

[colethewolf]

no but after posey saying that he's the show and wants respect as being able to carry the show alone, you'd expect something good, somthing fire (which we got but didnt want nor deserve). but only got that as a movie where nothing makes sense, many of the characters where unnecessary to be there (like why were melissa, argent n peter walking around for the whole movie lol wtf), and his character one more time does absolutely nothing to save the day except to scream in the face of a child (which his dad deserved to be the one waking his wolfy powers). nah man im embarrassed for him. I dont know how dylan tolerates that type of behaviour from a friend, thats if they are friends ofc. like id be upset how my friend constantly keeps putting me down to make themselves feel better, and its not even a joke anymore, posey had been doing that shit since forever!

The problem is that Posey’s bitterness bleeds through into the way he carries himself and the way he answers questions. Because I genuinely think that inside his mind, he thought that “I am the fucking show” comment came across as being comedic, but to mostly everybody else, you can see that Posey feels inadequate and he feels like his spotlight was taken from him. And you can tell that that’s what he actually wants to say to people.

He annoys me. Because on one hand, I can sympathize with him being jealous because that’s understandable and genuine. But on the other hand, the way he goes about expressing himself often comes across in an assholey way that I don’t like.

Because Dylan/Stiles is also THE show. Stiles was just as important to the success of the show, if not sometimes more important. There’s a reason the season that centered on Stiles was the most viewed and often picked as being the “best” season of the show. And there’s a reason the show could not survive once Dylan left. The same reason why the movie didn’t know what to do with itself without Dylan being there to do some heavy lifting.

But the difference is that Dylan wouldn’t be sitting in an interview saying “I am the fucking show” even as a joke. Because he knows that that could be seen as a direct insult to the other actors that made the show what it was. Although…….I wouldn’t blame Dylan for adding a lil bitchiness to the way he talks about TW now because there’s some obvious tension & animosity. And not just from Posey. From Jeff & people that think Dylan needs to be in perpetual service to that show just because it propelled him out to stardom.

[msfcatlover]

I finished my Death Mask (Red Hood) Steph playlist, if anyone's interested.

Only took multiple months, am I right? So, if you've got... oh gods, like 6.5hrs... check it out?

(I also have the playlist with all the songs I ended up cutting in this one over here. So if you have even more time and just want a strong dose of RH!Steph vibes, open that up and hit shuffle.)

Full list under the cut, in case youtube decides to take some of the videos down or rearrange my list---or if you want to rebuild it in your playlist player of choice---broken up into rough time periods to make it easier to read.

Introduction through Death:

Trouble by CRMNL || Take It Like A Girl by Khamsin, Molly Moore, Win Woo || Giants by Neoni || That's My Girl by Fifth Harmony || Raising Hell by Kesha, Big Freedia || Make It Look Easy by Valley Of Wolves || Enemies by The Score || Oh My Dear Lord by The Unlikely Candidates || A Little More Time by Natasha Blume || Reflection (Hollow Knight OST)

Resurrection through Return:

Goddess by Cepheid [cover] || Secrets Kill by Ely Eira || Come Alive by Ely Eira || Be My Guest by Azari [cover] || Who Am I? by Besomorph, RIELL || World On Fire by RIELL || Gossip by Måneskin [cover] || A Good Song Never Dies by Saint Motel || Who Are You? by SVRCINA || Hanahaki Syndrome by Shiki Miyoshino || Shadow Shadow by Azari [cover] || The Devil Wears Lace by Steven Rodriguez || Pink (Freak) by Elliot Lee || Thumbs by Sabrina Carpenter || Feed The Machine by Poor Man's Poison [cover] || Make A Move by Icon For Hire || Dirty by grandson || Devil Inside by CRMNL || That's How You Make A Villain by emlyn

Return through Identity Reveal:

Ready For War by 2WEI, Joznez, Kataem || BURN by 2WEI, Edda Hayes || Know My Name by Tru Genesis, DJ Form, Corinne, Sean BE || Champion by Neoni, burnboy || Too Loud by Icon For Hire || Way Up by Jaden || Godsent by Smash Into Pieces || Paranoia by Neoni || Royalty by Egzod, Maestro Chives, Neoni || Good People Do Bad Things by David Thomas Connolly || GOOD FOR HER by MOTHICA, emlyn || Shut Down by BLACKPINK || You Were Wrong by Icon For Hire || Little Girl Gone by CHINCHILLA || All Eyes On Me by CRMNL || Pomegranate Lips by Derivakat || Night Of Your Life by WAR*HALL || Everything or Nothing by Willyecho || How You Like That by BLACKPINK || See You In Hell by Amy Harriet

Reveal through Tower fight:

I'm Gonna Show You Crazy by Bebe Rexha || I'M NOT SORRY by Neoni || One Woman Army by Porcelain Black || Calling All the Monsters by China Anne McClain || Monster by Willyecho || Choke by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME || They Don't Care About Us by Michael Jackson [cover] || The Road To Hell by TheUnder X Matthew Grant, Ellis Island || Villains Aren't Born (They're Made) by PEGGY || WONDERLAND by Neoni || Rituals by Jiovanni Daniel || Angry Too by Lola Blanc || Devil's Worst Nightmare by FJØRA

Tower fallout:

Go To War by Nothing More || Laplace’s Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) by Will Wood || Motherland by REACH || Play Dead by Ellise || Aimed to Kill by Jade LeMac || Twisted by MISSIO || You Can Run by Adam Jones || Tomboy by Destiny Rogers [remix] || Whisper Whisper Whisper by Azari [cover] || Outlaw by Neoni || Wild Lands by Koethe || What's My Name by China Anne McClain

Spite-Flirting With Tim (Oracle):

Hot One by Leyla Blue, Baby Tate, REI AMI || Inferno by Bella Poarch [cover] || A Little Wicked by Valerie Broussard || DICTATOR by REI AMI || plot line by emlyn || you make a woman wanna... by emlyn || Here Come the Wolves by Lola Blanc

Fighting the family & Running the Alley:

Pretty Distraction by SkyDxddy || Stronger by The Score || Bloodshot by Sam Tinnesz || Let's Do This by Outskrts || Go For Gold by Autumn Kings || Hey Brother by Jakob Samuel|| Don't Stop The Devil by Dead Posey || Legend by The Score || What's Up Danger by Blackway, Black Caviar [remix]|| Welcome to the Party by Diplo || Do It Like A Dude by Jessie J || My Name Is... by Once Monsters || Queen of Kings by Alessandra Mele || Monster by Besomorph || I Like It Loud by Cash Cash || Confident by Demi Lovato || Looking at Me by Sabrina Carpenter || Immortals by Fall Out Boy || Up In Flames by Icon For Hire || Can't Get Enough by Jaxson Gamble || Do Right, Fear No Man by The Last Knife Fighter

Saving Jason, Having Hard Conversations, & Reuniting with the Family:

Deadly by Ellise || Cuttin' the Cord by Lunarcode || Soldiers by Sam Tinnesz, GoldTop || So Close To Me by Marc Boudreau || Dynasty by MIIA || Monster by Beth Crowley || It's Alright by Mother MotherGhost Town by Neoni, Layto || The Kid I Used To Know by Arrested Youth || Broken Boys & Bitter Bitches by Ellise || DDU-DU DDU-DU by BLACKPINK || Poison by LuLuYam || life's a bitch by TAELA || Give and Take by Poor Man's Poison || SHIT SHOW by UPSAHL || Lay Your Weapons Down by Ilse DeLange || Chasing The Sun by The Wanted || Hold Back The River by James Bay || Better Than One by The Score

.

(Holy shit, sorting/fixing these took like 3hrs, and I started by just copy-pasting the playlist's text directly to tumblr...)

I’m actually super proud of a couple of these transitions, or how I chose to build the mood in certain sections