#tequila mules are really good guys

[phoebe-ofthe-cosmos]

i'm spending the weekend in nyc visiting my friend and i just

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Playin' With Fire: The Choice

SUMMARY: Tom has opened his big mouth, spilling secrets that aren’t his to share. They carry on with the mission, all wanting to get back home. Dani has a choice to make.

WARNINGS: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, CHARACTER DEATH(we all know what happened in the movie, okay), MENTIONS OF ANXIETY, FEAR OF WATER OR WHAT’S IN THE WATER.

WORDS: 4,400

A/N: This is it. This is the last part, for now. I have an epilogue planned, but the release date for that is TBD. Thank you for those who have supported this story. I appreciate each and every one of you!

*

They moved on after the rain stopped. Dani successfully avoided Tom, seeing as Santiago wouldn’t let her get more than ten feet away from him. He had been glued to her side since Tom opened his big mouth. With the mules, the hike had been doable, easy almost, until they got to a river.

“No. No fucking way.” Dani shrieked at the rushing water. Tom groaned, turning around, looking at her.

“You scared of a little water, Tequila?” Will asked her, and she nodded her head frantically. The men looked at her, surprised. It wasn’t necessarily the water she was scared of.

“I have seen every episode of River Monsters. You have no idea what’s living in that fucking water.” Dani fretted. She had already survived being shot by a narco and a helicopter crash. She was not about to die being drowned or eaten by giant fucking fish.

Santiago took her hand, leading her into the river. He was by her side the entire time they crossed. Dani tried to focus on him more than the unknown that swam around her. Santiago could see the panic when they reached a spot they couldn’t touch the bottom. He tightened his grip on her hand, pulling her closer to him. It took longer than expected to cross, the current stronger than they had anticipated.

“See, querida. We made it. And no signs of fish, except Frankie.” Santi joked as they climbed onto the riverbank. She gave him a dirty side look, as she wrung out her hair. Yeah, she thought, This was a fucking bad idea.

With the river long behind them, they hiked a path through more jungle until they were walking a steep, winding trail. “The old smugglers Trail” Santi called it. Tensions were running high, well, higher; Will and Benny started arguing, cursing at each other. The fight was instantly cut short when Frankie’s mule was startled and went sliding down the side of the mountain, almost taking him with it.

“Fish!” Dani yelled, wanting to run to him, but she was at the front of the line with Santi. The look on her face was pure terror when he didn’t respond. “Frankie!” She cried out again. Santi pushed down the gut wrenching feeling he got looking at her so distressed over his best friend.

“I’m good, Tequila. I’m good.” He answered her, once he got his breath back. Benny didn’t have a sick sense of humor, but when he started laughing at the animal tumbling down the mountain side, it triggered something in Santiago.

“The fuck you laughing at? That was a living animal, man.” He growled at his friend. Benny turned to look at him, but Tom was the one who spoke.

“That could have been any one of us. Fuck, It could have been your baby mama, and you’re worried about the fucking donkey?” Tom sneered. Santi balled his fists up. Dani laid a hand on his arm, pulling him back from crossing that line. Instead, she spoke up.

“You’re the reason we’re in this fucking mess. You just had to get every single dollar you could get your fucking hands on.” Dani shot back at him, tired of his bullshit. "You are greedy, uncaring, and if I had any choice in the matter your ass would still be sitting at home." She continued to move forward with her mule, without really waiting on the guys. She could hear some chatter, that sounded like Frankie, trying to be the voice of logic.

They made it off the side of the mountain, but now they had to go up and over. The guys quickly engineered a pulley system to make heaving the bags up easier. They insisted that Dani leave this to them, including Tom, which surprised her.

“Are you sure you want to get rid of the mules?” She asked one more time. Santiago and Tom both agreed. Dani turned Frankie loose on them to scare them off. She laughed at his outburst, watching as his arms flailed about. He had some fun doing it. Frankie joined her back at the bottom of the system. Dani chuckled as he walked up.

“What are you laughing at?” He asked, looking at her curiously. She shook her head.

“Nothing, it’s just, you reminded me a lot of my best friend. I hadn’t seen him in a while.” She missed her Frankie, her best friend Frankie. She knew nothing would be the same after this, but she could hope.

Scaling the side of a mountain, while hauling bags full of stolen drug money, was not on the list of things Dani thought she would ever do in her life. She was sure they were going to catch some form of pneumonia after the whole river incident. Sitting on a mountain top in the Andes was fucking cold. The six of them huddled in a semi-circle. “We cold-camp.” Will said when Benny demanded a fire.

“Fuck you.” He started, and lit a wad of cash ablaze. “This is my ‘fuck you money’.” Tom looked at Benny and Santi chuckled, saying that Benny was crazy.

“We don’t have enough men to carry all of this money, so we might as well be warm.” Tom said, shrugging his shoulders at Benny's blatant defiance of his captain.

Dani was nestled between Frankie and Santi, which was warm enough on its own. But when Redfly dumped a whole suitcase of money onto the fire, the warmth flowed through her body, making her relax. Santi looked over and saw that Dani had her head laying on Frankie’s shoulder, and he felt a pang of jealousy. He knew he shouldn’t, he had been sleeping with another woman. He couldn’t shake the fact that she could have been pregnant with his kid, and she wasn’t finding comfort with him. It made him sick to his stomach.

Dani opened her eyes to see Santi staring at her. She could see the hurt in eyes, lit up by the flames of the fire. He flicked his gaze back to the blaze in front of him. She couldn’t get a read on Santi. Some days he wanted her, other days he was fucking his informants, leaving her alone for hours at a time. She told him that she loved him, and he never said it back. She didn’t know where to go from there.

They both knew what they had and it wasn’t a relationship. Santi wasn’t the type to settle down, but the idea of Dani having his kid, gave him hope that maybe he could. Maybe he could do it with her. Taking shifts, they all tried to get some sleep before having to move on.

The sun rose over the mountaintop. Dani groaned, opening her eyes to see that just Tom was awake. “Morning, Teq.” She grunted in response. She was never a morning person. “Look, I’m sorry, for everything. I shouldn’t have outed you like that.” He apologized. Dani was able to squeeze herself out from between the two men.

“I’m not pregnant, just so you know. I shouldn’t have said that about Molly, though.” She told him, but didn’t apologize. She looked over at Santiago, who was beginning to stir. She adored his sleepy face, he was always at his most peaceful then.

“We should probably get moving. We still have a lot of ground to cover.” Tom announced loudly, waking up the light sleeping soldiers.

They were making progress, almost down the side of the mountain. Dani bent down to pick up a bag when a gunshot rang through the open space, a bullet shattering a rock by her head. She tumbled to the ground. She threw her arms over her head to protect herself, suddenly wishing that she had one of those stupid helmets Santiago always made her wear.

“Dani!” Santiago yelled, taking cover behind a rock not too far from her. She looked up, where she saw him trying to make his way to her. She held up a fist, a hand signal for him to hold. It wasn’t safe. She rolled over, seeing that she was closer to Benny, who was crouched down, holding his shoulder.

“They seem to like me. I’ll draw their fire. Ironhead, take that ridge, make sure no one else is coming up. Fish, Pope, go that way.” Tom ordered, directing the guys. Dani army-crawled her way to Benny.

“You good?” She asked him, looking over the wound. “It’s just a graze.” She noted as she wrapped it with a cloth.

“Thanks, Teq.” Benny said, placing a kiss to her head. “Come on, let’s go. Keep your head down.” The two of them followed Tom.

Benny had gone around to the right, while Dani stayed behind Tom to the left, trying to make her way back to Santiago. If you were to ask her, she would tell you what happened next was her fault. She was too slow on the draw, she hesitated. “Tom!” She cried out as soon as she saw the man rise over the rocks. Tom lifted his head, but it was too late. Tom dropped with a single shot to the head. Dani didn’t even realize the man had his gun trained to her too, until more shots rang out. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the searing pain of the bullet, but it never came. She let out a strangled sob when she opened her eyes and saw the shooter dead. A hand touched her shoulder and she screamed as she tried to throw an elbow back, but it was caught.

“It’s me, querida. It’s me, baby.” Santi’s voice flowed through her ears. She turned around and collapsed into him. The feeling of safety washed over her, being in Santi’s arms. She straightened herself up to see that Benny and Will had made their way to Tom’s body. Frankie walked up to her, wiping the tears she let fall. She had completely spaced out, staring at Tom’s lifeless body, she didn’t even register that Benny and Will were fighting again.

“You’re a heartless son of a bitch.” Benny yelled at his brother after he told him to get Tom wrapped up, that they needed to keep moving. Santi and Frankie broke them apart. Dani found herself sitting next to Tom, the reality of the situation sinking in. That could have been her. It could have been Santiago. It could have been any of them.

“Come on, Teq. We gotta move.” Frankie’s calming voice broke her from her thoughts. He helped her up, as they made their way back to the bags. The five of them hauled the money and Tom down the side of the mountain, making their way to a flat point where they could see the ocean. It was almost over, but at what cost?

“How late are we to meet the boat?” Santi questioned, not really directed toward anyone.

“Five days.” Benny replied as Will tried to get a good look ahead of them. They decided that someone should go ahead and make sure the boat was still there. When Benny volunteered, Dani scoffed.

"Your Spanish sucks, Benny. I'll go."

Santiago immediately said no. "No way am I letting you go. I can't keep you safe if you aren't here. Please, baby." He begged her to stay. Dani sighed, she didn't want to argue with him. “You’re looking for the Hijo Prodigo.” Santiago told Benny, handing him the three million dollars.

Will looked at his brother packing away the money in his pack. “Benny, watch your six.” He warned him, giving him a tight smile.

“You watch yours.” They watched as Benny made his way down the rocks until he disappeared from their sight.

The night was oddly calming to her as Dani leaned back on a duffle. She hadn’t really said anything since Tom was killed right in front of her. The whole reason for her being there was to save them if something happened. Deep down she knew that there was nothing she could have done. Tom was shot point blank in the head, killed instantly. She felt a wave of nausea come over her as she looked at his tarp-wrapped body. She scrambled to her feet to get away from the guys, but didn’t make it far before her knees gave out and she was dry heaving onto the dirt. Frankie rushed to her side, rubbing her back. Santi watched as he comforted her. Frankie would be good for her, better than he would be. He was the reason she was in this mess. For a split second, Santiago found himself happy that she wasn’t pregnant. She didn’t need to be tied to him for the rest of her life.

Santi stood up, walking over to where Frankie was holding her. “Let me, please.” Frankie looked up at his best friend and back to Dani. It was like he had forgotten the situation for a minute. Realization sank in and he was releasing her to Santiago. Frankie knew Dani would never be his. He lost that chance a long time ago. He hated that he was watching Santi fuck up his shot with her, even after he all but pushed him into her.

Dani wanted to reach out to Frankie, because she didn’t want him to let her go. When Santi wrapped his arms around her, she found herself sinking into him. “Te lo prometo, cuando subamos a ese barco, Volverás a Estados Unidos, lejos de mí. Nunca debí haberte incluido en esto. Esto es sobre mi. Solo espero que algún día me perdones.” He wept softly into her ear as she rested her head on his chest. “You will be better off without me.”

Dani listened to Santi pour out his heart to her. She wanted to console him, but the words got stuck in her throat and came out as cries. Santi was able to get her to stand, moving her back to the duffles, where they could be somewhat comfortable while they waited for Benny to return.

Dani looked between Santi and Frankie. She felt herself torn. One part of her wanted to curl into Frankie’s side, the other wanted to curl into Santi. She pondered on it for a second before deciding to go to Will. She took a seat next to him, and he was pleasantly surprised.

“Hey, baby girl. You got yourself into quite the mess.” He said as he opened his arms for her to get close. She didn’t say anything, she just let him wrap himself around her, falling into a sense of familiarity. It was silent for a little while, nothing but nature sounds.

“I’m gonna say something. Are you listening?” Frankie’s gruff voice all but echoed through the silence. “We gotta get back on our game. Enough of this. It stops now. You understand?”

“Copy that.” Santi agreed with his friend. Santi didn’t care at this point, he just wanted to get everyone else home safe.

Will was next to speak and he surprised everyone with his question. “How many people do you think you’ve killed?”

“What?” Frankie blurted out.

“You heard me.” Will confirmed his question.

Frankie sighed, “As many as I had to.” The pain and regret thick in his voice.

Dani twisted in his hold to peer at his face in the darkness. “Why would you ever want to know that?” She asked him.

“43. Confirmed.” Will said easily, no hesitation. Dani technically hadn’t killed anyone. If Santi hadn’t shot Lorea in the head, she would have killed him. He would have bled out in seconds. She also could argue and say that she killed Tom, even though she didn’t pull the trigger. But that was her argument. She should have pulled the trigger and he would still be here. “Hey, hey. Don’t go there.” Will told her as if he knew what she was thinking. “Get some sleep. I’ve got your six.” He placed a chaste kiss to her head. Against her better judgement, she laid her head down on a duffle, letting exhaustion take over, pulling her into the darkness of sleep.

She woke up to a commotion, Will no longer beside her. She moved to sit up, seeing that Benny had returned. Dani got up to walk over where Frankie was sitting and asked what was going on.

“So we go through ‘em.” Santi declared. The guys had surprised looks on their faces.

“Through them? I’m not prepared to wipe out every teenager in that town just to get through with this cargo!” WIll refused, in disbelief of his friend.

Santi scoffed, “That cargo? What about this cargo?” He pointed to Tom. “What about Tequila? They won’t hesitate to take her out, too. Tom died for this money and we are not leaving this country without it!”

Benny shook his head, “He didn’t die for that money, he died because of it!” He snapped at Santi. Santi looked at his friend for a moment, turned on his heels, and walked away. Dani wasn’t sure what all was said while she slept, but she knew they couldn’t take out a bunch of kids. Will got up to go talk to Santi, but Dani stopped him. He seemed to understand what she was implying and moved back next to Benny. She walked over to where Santi was standing, trying to compose himself.

“Santi,” She started as she reached out for him, “Benny is telling us these are kids. Kids, baby.” She emphasized the word to try to get him to understand. He nodded quickly.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. I just, I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I let this happen.” He croaked, voice cracking a little. She moved closer, rubbing his shoulder.

“We all came here of our own free will. This was our plan, Santi. If anything, I’m to blame, too.” She pointed out to him. She was just as much to blame. Santi shook his head and caressed her face.

“No, querida. I thought we could do this. This is on me. All of this is on me. I’m sorry.” He apologized, leaning his forehead to press against hers. She wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him tightly, wordlessly, letting him know that she was there.

“We can’t do this, Pope.” She whispered as she released him, and he agreed. He took her hand and they walked back toward the other three men. The action was immediately noticed by Frankie.

“I’m sorry, guys. I don’t know what I was saying. We can’t just go through them.” Santi said regretfully. The guys all nodded.

“All that matters now is getting Tom home, getting us all home safe.” Dani added, as she moved so she could face Santi. “Just, how do we do that?”

They all looked to each other for an answer, but Santi spoke first. “We keep carrying him down. We fill our day packs with whatever we can and leave the rest.” Santi explained that there was a trench they could throw the money into. So, they filled their packs and carried what was left to the giant hole in the ground. “Snow will be coming in soon, no one will ever see it again.”

Under the cover of darkness, Benny was able to sneak away from the group to meet up with the boat. Dani walked on with Will, Santi, and Frankie. “Woah. Wait. Wait!” Will whispered harshly at the sight of a truck hidden in the thick. They all drew their weapons.

“Do you see anyone?” Dani asked looking around, “Looks abandoned.” She added. Frankie walked forward asking to be covered.

Suddenly, the lights flipped on and a kid rushed around with a gun aimed at them. Santi tried to talk him down, but Frankie scared him, saying he was going to take a shot. It was a ripple effect from there. Luckily, they were able to get the truck to start because reinforcements were coming. Frankie sped down the dirt road, listening to Will’s directions to the beach.

“Did you just give that fucking kid money? We should have killed him the second he saw our faces!” Frankie growled into the steering wheel.

“We’re not killing any more people.” Santi said calmly.

Frankie shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll tell you right now. If we get to that beach, and Ben isn’t there. I’m fucking killing people.” Frankie vowed. Dani looked over at her friend, shocked at his tone and how okay he was with taking lives. What scared her even more was that she agreed with him.

The reinforcement came in quick. Benny was right, it was a bunch of teenagers, shooting very big guns at them. Frankie did his best driving, dodging the bullets. “Kill them! Pope, Tequila, just fucking kill them!” He yelled back at them. Dani gave Santi a sad look before holding up her gun, taking her shot. She took out one driver, causing the truck to flip, it going up in flames. Santiago shook his head, before shooting at the other vehicles. Frankie got them safely to the beach, waving Benny in on the boat. The last vehicle followed them across the dune, still flinging bullets their way after it flipped. Frankie gave them cover fire, so that they could climb into the boat.

It was over. A job that should have taken a few days, took over twelve, and they had almost died one too many times. Fuck, Tom did die. His body wrapped in a tarp laid at their feet as they made their escape. If Dani had known what she knew now. She would have fought Santi on this. She would have told him to let it go.

“Minus the expenses and our administrative fee, that leaves $6,400,944 cut six ways. Which gives you six shares of $1,066,824. I will need all of your signatures on the sixth contract here, for the Redfly Family Trust.” The account explained. Dani could see wheels turning in the guys heads, so it didn’t surprise her when Ben and Will forwent their share, giving it to Tom’s family. Frankie, however, did surprise her when he gave his share away, Pope too. She shook her head.

“Give my share to Mr. Garcia.” She told the accountant. Pope looked up at her.

“Dani,” He started, “You don’t owe me anything. Keep the money.” He told her and she knew that. She signed the needed paperwork and walked out into the building lobby. “Dani, stop.” Pope called after her.

“I’m not pregnant.” She blurted out, feeling like a weight was removed from her chest. Pope looked at her confused. “I’m not-- I’m not pregnant.” She said again. Finding a pharmacy was the first thing she did when they were safe on the Island. She already had one negative test, but felt the need for another.

Pope was conflicted inside. He spent the last week almost hoping that her first test was wrong. He wanted this with her. Now, he didn’t know how he felt. “How do- Are you sure?” He wanted to confirm with her.

She nodded, “The second and third tests were negative. Turns out planning a money heist is just super fucking stressful.” She joked, but he didn’t laugh. Dani let out a sigh. “Come on, Santi. Can you honestly tell me you wanted a baby?”

Did he want a baby? No, not right now. But he wanted her. He wanted to be hers. “I want you, sweetheart.” He said, “I want everything with you. I should have said this a hell of a lot sooner. I love you.” He placed a hand behind her head, pulling her close. He looked deep into her eyes, she was sure he was staring at her soul. “I love you, Danika Kate Reid. I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Tears spilled over her lashes, a happy sob escaped her lips. “Oh, fuck. I love you, too, Santiago Isaac Garcia.” She smiled, letting him pull her in for a hug. “It’s time for us to go home.”

“Let’s go home then, Tequila.” He offered her a hand, lacing their fingers together, and they exited the building where the other three men were waiting. Frankie looked nervous.

“So?” Will asked, looking between Santi and Dani. She smiled softly at their friends.

“I am not pregnant.” She told them. Santi gave out their passports before handing one to her.

“You’re coming home?” Frankie asked, hopeful at the sight of the little booklet.

“We are coming home.” She told them, looking up at Santiago. His eyes were bright, full of hope for their future. He couldn’t help but lean down. His lips connected with Dani’s, taking the breath from her lungs. His lips were warm and soft. She got lost in the kiss, not caring who saw, considering they were standing in the middle of the street and their best friends were right there. His fingers tangled in Dani’s hair, hers scraping the back of his neck, tugging lightly on the curls. The three other men hollered in excitement.

Santiago groaned when she pulled away, already missing the feeling of her lips on his. “Let’s go home, Pope.” She breathed, caressing his stubble covered face. He smiled at her, before they turned back to their friends.

“Fucking finally. I thought I was gonna have to spell it out for you two.” Benny cursed with a smile, pulling Dani into a hug. “It’s gonna be nice having you back home.” He raised his eyes to Santi, “Both of you.”

“Get home safe.” She said to both Millers before hugging Will.

She turned to Frankie with a smile. “What are you gonna do, Fish?” She asked, reaching out for him. He grabbed her hand, pulling her in for another embrace.

“I gotta baby girl to get home to. I can’t wait for you to meet her.” He replied, placing a kiss to her head. She nodded.

“I can’t wait either.” Dani laughed, “She’s gonna be so spoiled.” Frankie agreed, before telling her to take care of Santi and herself. “We will see you soon, Catfish.” She moved back to Santiago, taking the hand he was holding out for her. She laced her fingers with his and nothing had ever felt more right. She was where she was supposed to be.

Tags: @mylifeisactuallyamess @itspdameronthings @221bshrlocked @speakerforthedead0 @danniburgh

Translations:

Te lo prometo, cuando subamos a ese barco, Volverás a Estados Unidos, lejos de mí. Nunca debí haberte incluido en esto. Esto es sobre mi. Solo espero que algún día me perdones.: I promise you, when we get on that boat, you'll go back to America, away from me. I should never have included you in this. This is all on me. I just hope one day you'll forgive me.

[chadillacboseman]

Barstool Throne

Pairing: Comandante Veracruz x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, alcohol use, guns mentioned

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is purely self-indulgent. I work in healthcare, and reader is a hcw (no explicit mentions of work duties though). Veracruz is an arrogant dick.

Also why do I only write with bars as a setting? Do I have a problem

---

Veracruz was a piece of shit, of that you were certain. The man didn’t exactly try to hide it either, often sauntering into the bar with his squad and making sure the whole building knew they were there. You tried to avoid the bar when you could, but often shifts at the hospital ended in a mood that only cheap booze could fix. Showing up in your scrubs was a bonus, because it often earned you a free drink or two from the bartender. You had been working at the local hospital for the better part of two months on a work exchange program, living in the provided housing adjacent to the building. It wasn’t a bad gig- you made decent money and the other staff were fairly accommodating to a newcomer. 

For the most part, you avoided unwanted attention, but there were always nights where the attention found you despite your best efforts. And tonight, you felt the unwanted eyes of Veracruz and his squad on your back as you made your way to your favorite barstool. 

“¡Hola amiga! ¿De tomar?” The bartender was friendly as usual, but his eyes darted to the table in the far corner as you spoke, as if he sensed trouble brewing. 

The trouble made itself evident just as the bartender set your drink down in front of you- the blue-grey fatigues were unmistakable in your peripheral vision. It seemed Veracruz had broken off from his group and was now standing next to you, leaning against the bar, and eyeing you as if you were a steak on a butcher’s block.

 “Can I help you?” You kept your words sharp and your eyes forward, sipping casually from your drink. Veracruz chuckled and signaled the bartender for a drink of his own, 

“Just admiring the view.” 

You snorted and turned to face him, ready to retort in the most vitriolic way you could muster, but you found your insult catching in your throat. The man was more handsome up close than you had realized- all jawline with an aquiline nose and a peppering of facial hair. As if he sensed your thoughts, Veracruz took a seat on the stool next to you as the bartender returned with his drink. For a moment, the bartender’s eyes flicked to yours, filled with worry at your new companion, but you smiled briefly and gave him a small nod. 

Veracruz waited for the man to leave before he returned his attention to you, 

“You must work at the hospital, eh? Doctors for All?” You silently cursed yourself for not changing into street clothes before coming to the bar, 

“Yes. And you and your...friends must be, what? Military? National Police?” Veracruz took a swig from his beer and shrugged, 

“Something like that. But I think you know I’m not here to talk about me.” His last words were almost a growl, low and unnerving. 

“Does this technique work often for you?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow, “the “asshole military guy makes me feel unsafe” vibe really doesn’t do it for me.” 

He smiled, all bright white teeth and crinkled eyes, before he responded, “Do I make you feel unsafe?” he moved almost imperceptibly closer to you, leaning in so that his face was unbearably close to yours. 

You swallowed much harder than you had intended, “You’re carrying two sidearms and enough ammo to kill everyone in this bar-” you paused to take a sip of your drink, “Am I supposed to feel at ease?” 

Veracruz considered your question for a moment, “Perhaps not. But I have no intention of hurting you-” he paused to gesture around him, “or anyone here for that matter.” 

He took another swallow of his beer before slamming it on the counter to grab the bartender’s attention. 

He turned back to face you, his dark eyes scanning your face, “At least tell me your name-” he tugged at his fatigues, “since I am at the disadvantage of having mine emblazoned on my chest.” 

You deliberated with yourself for a moment before relenting and telling him your name. He repeated it with a grin, and you hated how much you loved the way sounded in his accent, “I like it.” The heat rose in your face at his words and you tried to tamp down the girlish butterflies flitting in your gut. 

The bartender arrived with two shots of tequila in tow and set them on the counter in front of you. You raised an eyebrow and turned to Veracruz who grinned. 

“Something to ease the tension.” He threw back his shot with barely a grimace, then gestured to yours, his expression almost playful. 

Against your better judgement, you took the shot, your face contorting slightly at the taste. Veracruz laughed and clapped you on the back. 

“Will you survive?” You sputtered and scrambled for the lime wedge, pressing it into your teeth, “No thanks to you.” You shook your head to clear it and took a hearty swallow of your drink to wash it all down. 

You wished now that you had eaten your lunch as the liquor hit you like a mule kick to the chest. Veracruz watched you intently and waited until there was a pause in your miniature breakdown before he spoke, “You looked good, even while you did...whatever that was.” You snorted, “Well thank you for that.”

Veracruz eyed you intently for a moment before he spoke again, “I’ve had enough of this chase-” he waved his hand dismissively at his squad and they rose from their chairs with a clamor. It was a moment before you realized that they were clearing the bar of the few other patrons. The bartender spared you a worried glance before disappearing into a back room and leaving you alone in the empty bar with Veracruz. You became hyper aware of your breathing, which was suddenly much heavier. For a moment, you considered getting up to leave, but something held you to the chair- was it the liquor? Or was it the spark of longing you felt building in your chest? 

Veracruz’s hand on your chin snapped you out of your trance as he turned your face to his. His dark eyes bored into you as he moved to put his mouth on yours. The kiss was rough, all tongue and bites on your lip as his hands moved to your chest, brushing over your breasts through your top. 

“Do you know how long I wanted to do this?” his lips ghosted against yours as he spoke, “Every day that I saw you here, I wanted to pin you over this bar and fuck you.”

In one swift movement, he plucked you from your seat on the stool and pulled you onto his lap, your back against his chest, held in place by his hands around you. Veracruz’s mouth found your ear and he bit gently at the sensitive flesh before whispering, “Now I have you here to myself, I am going to take my time with you.” 

Veracruz’s hands snaked under the hem of your top and he tugged it up over your head and tossed it to the floor. His mouth moved to your neck, kissing and licking at your exposed skin and sending chills down your spine. Beneath you, you could feel his growing arousal through his fatigues as his hands worked their way over your chest. His hands were rough against your skin, but you pushed against them anyway, savoring the feeling of his touch as he moved them over your breasts. Without warning, he bucked his hips up and shoved you, roughly, over the bar in front of you, your feet barely came under you quickly enough to stop yourself from sliding down. Veracruz kicked the barstool away carelessly and it fell to the stone floor with a clatter. There was a rustling sound as he unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the ground. You felt his fingers gently trace down your back to the waistline of your pants before he grabbed them aggressively and pulled them down in one swift motion.

“Your arms- give them to me.” his voice was a low growl as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them in the small of your back. He fumbled, one-handed, with his belt for a moment before using it to fasten them together. He leaned forward so that his mouth was just a fraction of an inch from your ear, “So I know you’ll be a good girl for me.” he whispered, and you felt your legs grow weak. 

Veracruz grasped your hips roughly as he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing gently against your folds. 

He chuckled as you pushed back against him, “Look at you, so wet and so desperate.” You whined as he teased you, moving his cock up and down your slit slowly, tantalizingly, until you felt as if you were going to snap. 

"What do you want?" He sounded arrogant, and you wanted to slap him, but fuck did it feel good. "Use your words," he growled, tugging roughly at your restrained wrists.

 "I want you to fuck me!" You cried, practically begging him to be inside you. 

Veracruz chuckled and leaned over you, moving to wrap a hand around your neck, "Say please." He whispered, his lips brushing your ear as his hand tightened on your throat. 

You hated him in that moment, but you wanted him so badly that you managed to whine, "Please fuck me."

However big you had imagined Veracruz was, it didn’t prepare you for the feeling of his cock being buried inside you. You let out a strangled cry as he bottomed out, and he chuckled again as he gave you a moment to adjust. He took hold of your restrained wrists and started to piston his hips slowly, pressing you down into the hard wood of the bar as he did.

“Fuck-” his breathing was ragged as he moved inside you, “I’m going to fill up this tight little cunt.” You groaned at his words and squeezed your eyes shut as your face rubbed against the smooth wood with every thrust. “I’m going to make you mine.” 

His free hand connected with your ass with a loud smack and you let out a surprised yelp at the painful contact. Veracruz increased his speed, his body slamming against yours as he split you open and pushed you, hard, into the bar beneath you. You whimpered as you felt your climax building, threatening to erupt at any moment. 

“Too bad no one else is here now,” Veracruz grunted, “No one will know that the pretty girl from the hospital is letting me fuck her where they get their drinks.” 

Your face heated at his words as you thought of the bartender and prayed that the door that separated him from the two of you was thicker than it looked. Veracruz’s pace was more erratic and frenzied as he chased his peak, his grip on your hips threatening to leave remnants of the affair. Your own orgasm wasn’t far off, and only grew closer as he pushed into you, his ragged breathing hot on your back. You moaned his name against the bar as you came, feeling yourself clench around his cock. This was enough to drive Veracruz over the edge and with one last buck of his hips he let out a strangled groan and spilled inside you. 

Veracruz remained there for a moment as he caught his breath and grew soft inside of you. He pulled out slowly, savoring the mixture of the two of you that dripped slowly down your thighs. He turned his attention to your wrists and slowly unbound them before he moved to pull up his pants and buckle the belt around them. You stood up straight and began to get dressed, pausing to glance at your wrists- how on earth were you going to explain those marks to your coworkers? You pulled your top over your head and tamped down your wild hair before turning to face Veracruz, who had been watching you fixedly. 

“Let’s do this again sometime.” The cockiness in his voice made you want to reach out and slap him, but you knew that was a terrible idea. “But maybe next time-” he moved closer to you, his hands perched lazily on his belt.

“I won’t clear the bar first.”

----

@djxrxn​ tagged AS USUAL BECAUSE ALLI IS MY ROCK.

[we-are-inevitable]

until forever // javid

Until Forever

some things about this fic: -davey being salty about his grades -Oblivious Jack !!! -drunk confessionsssss -jack splurges on good tequila and you Cannot tell me otherwise -they’re in university so, like, it’s automatically good

i hope u guys like this oneee !!

The front door opens to reveal a frazzled David Jacobs with a single black coffee, one bag of groceries, and an overstuffed satchel crossed over his torso.

The groceries are the first to drop to the floor. Jack knows that nothing in the bag is damaged; if something inside was fragile, then David surely would have brought the bag to the apartment’s small kitchen rather than discarding it onto the floor. As he watches the taller man set his coffee on the small table next to the front door, Jack can’t help but smile.

“Rough day, Davey?”

“You. Have. No. Idea,” David crosses the room and inelegantly drops his school bag into the chair against the wall, heading straight for the kitchen. “I’m convinced that Professor Snyder is incompetent. There is no fucking way I got less than a 90 on my midterm report, Jack, there’s no way! But no! Apparently he gave me a goddamn 86 on the paper--”

“I’m sorry, but is there somethin’ wrong with an 86? Seems pretty good to me,” Jack says as he stands up off of the couch, following David to the kitchen. “Don’t stress about it. You have, like, two months until the end of the semester, you’re gonna bring your grade up.”

“Oh, no, I have a high A in the class,” David says nonchalantly as he reaches up to grab a bottle from on top of the fridge-- tequila. Oh. David is in one of those moods. “It’s just-- He has the audacity to give me an 86, yet he gives Morris fucking Delancey a 98? There’s no way his paper was better than mine! I just--”

“Davey, I love ya, man, and I feel for ya, but if you get any more pissed you’re gonna break the bottle and you’re gonna owe me, like, $40. That’s my good tequila.”

“Get the shot glasses, Kelly.”

“On it.”

Jack has a painting he could have been doing. Not classwork, he was pretty much caught up with everything so far, but he has a commission that needs to be sent off by the end of the next week and he's still in the sketching phase. But, really, what's the point of working on a commission when he can get drunk with his best friend instead?

After all of these years, it is still weird to call David a ‘friend.’ They had met in the 8th grade, when Jack was adopted by Medda, who happened to teach drama at the school David attended. On the first day, David had told Jack to "shut the hell up" in their science class, and the two had been inseparable ever since. They had been 13 when they met.

Now, they're both nearing 23, living in an apartment together, both in their last year of college.

And Jack still hasn’t told David that he is completely, totally, irrevocably in love with him.

Jack brings the shot glasses to the living room, while David brings the bottle and a container of orange juice to chase it. They both sit on the couch for the next thirty minutes, ranting about their days and the horrible people they've dealt with in town or at work or in class or wherever they had over the course of that week.

Thirty minutes turn into an hour, and an hour turns into two. By that time, the sun is setting, casting a glow straight into the window of the apartment. Jack tilts his head and looks over at David with a chuckle at something he had said, but all laughter was lost as he caught David’s gaze.

God, those blue eyes make him weak. And with the way that the light was directly on them… Jack can’t take the silence.

He turns his body to face David, leaning his head against the back of the couch as his arms cross over his torso. “You ever been in love, Davey?” He asks with that signature Kelly grin. There’s no doubt in his mind that he looks like an idiot. Big smile, scrunched-up nose, squinty eyes- he had been told by plenty of girls that that look was 'something out of a romcom,' and he had never wanted that to be truer than right now.

The question seems to sober David up a little bit. He gulps and glances away, cheeks flushed- though Jack can’t tell if he’s blushing, or if it’s the alcohol. “I-... Jackie, c’mon. You’ve known me for ten years, you would know--”

“Ah, ah, ah, I think you have a bunch of shit you ain’t tellin’ me,” Jack says with a smirk, though his eyes soften up a bit. All he wants is for David to say yes. If David tells him, then Jack will be able to move on. If David is in love with someone else, then Jack can finally muster up the courage to finally stop telling himself he has a chance. “What about that boy you was with last year? What was his name? Lance?”

“Luke,” David corrects him with a grimace, “And no. I didn’t love him. I… I figured out a few months into it that I… loved someone else,” He admits with a shrug, then scratches the back of his neck. “...Love. Present tense. I love someone else.”

What a kick in the teeth.

Jack sits up a little straighter, then raises a brow. “Damn, you must’a had feelings for this fella for a while. It’s been, what, near a year since you and Luke broke it off?”

“I’ve liked this guy way longer than I’ve even known Luke,” David says simply, shooting Jack a smile that made his stomach flip.

“What’s he like?”

“Well,” David thinks for a moment, then grins. “He’s really sweet. Stupid, but in a good way,” He chuckles, and Jack can’t help but let out a little laugh as well. “He’s been through a lot, but he’s the most caring guy I’ve ever met. He’d give the shirt off his back for any one of his friends, and trust me, he has a lot.”

“Lots’a friends? Is he a frat guy?”

“Oh, hell no. Far from it. He’s just… really charismatic. He’s… He’s great,” David says with a melancholy grin, avoiding Jack’s gaze as he takes a slow sip of tequila straight from the bottle.

Something about the way that David is acting has Jack on edge. He seems so close to saying something, but Jack has no idea what it is, and, against his better judgment, Jack presses on. “Tell me more. Does he go here?”

“Mhm. He’s an art student,” David admits nonchalantly, and Jack’s heart feels like it rips in two. An art student… No. There’s no way David is talking about him, but the fact that he’s into another art student who isn’t Jack makes him regret ever asking in the first place. “He’s good, too. Really good. Seriously, Jack, his art... It’s the best I've ever seen. He likes music, too, and he’s a great singer, even though he doesn’t think so. He’s a horrible driver, but he can navigate the subway system in his sleep. He’s a pretty good--...”

David hesitates. Jack watches, holding his breath.

The silence between them is so heavy that Jack feels like he’s being crushed. Suffocated. “David...”

David takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes. “He’s a pretty good roommate, too. Even if he cares more about a $40 bottle of tequila than he cares about me.”

Jack is silent for a few long moments. He’s frozen in place, trying desperately to connect the dots, and deep down he knows what David is saying, but he can’t do this and he doesn’t want to assume and what if he's wrong? What if David is just playing a cruel joke on him? What if-- “Davey, what- what are you sayin’? I-- Dave, you need to- to spell it out, I don't understand--"

"Jackie," David cuts him off as he turns to face him, a sad smile on his face. The look makes Jack’s breath catch in his throat. “I love you. Jack Kelly, I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” Jack responds instantly, his eyes widening just slightly. “No, because- because I-- Fuck, I’ve loved you for so long, but you- you don’t love me. You- you can't love me, Davey, you deserve so- so much better than me, I'm so-- Is this real? Are you-- Are you real?”

The smile that breaks out onto David’s face stuns Jack into silence. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids,” David whispers, before letting out a laugh. “I just-- Jack, how could I not love you? You're everything to me, Jackie... Everything. All I've ever wanted. I know you don’t see it, but... You're the best thing to ever happen to me."

There's a long, long pause as Jack takes in the information. He's confused, and overwhelmed, but as the gears finally stop turning and the pieces fit into place, Jack lets out a giddy laugh. “I-- Davey, Davey, oh my God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect. You’re smart, and nice, and stubborn as a mule in the best way possible, and I- I ain’t good with words, you know that, but you--... All of my best paintings, all of my best sketches, are all because you were my muse. You were… Perfect. You’ve always been perfect… David?”

“Yeah, Jack?” David answers, breathless, and he's truly a sight to behold.

“Kiss me.”

The feeling of David frantically dragging him into his lap would forever be one of the best Jack has ever experienced. He straddles David’s thighs, wraps his arms around David’s neck, and melts as soon as David pulls him into the best kiss he had ever had.

It's just this side of rough, of passionate, of needy and wanton and Jack can feel ten years worth of wanting, waiting, wishing for this moment fuel the kiss even more.

David’s hand is in his hair. Caressing him. Grounding him.

They kiss for what feels like hours, but Jack eventually pulls back for breath, forehead gently pressed against David’s. Something tells him they should have done this a long time ago, but at least they had the rest of forever.

[skzshinyy]

Another Round (pt.1)

new series alert! this is for my new chat bot @bartender-skz which i‘m opening very soon, and so i thought why not make a series inspired by that. If you don‘t mind, pls reblog the teaser, i want to have a fun time on there and meet new people. also this is my first fic in months, and i‘m finally back bitches😌

pairings: dom!reader x dom!chan x switch!hyunjin

genre: smut (first part is smut free)

warnings: alcohol

part.1 // part.2 // part.3

please drink responsibly and no underage drinking! thank you

—————————————————————————

„Ladies, what can I make for you tonight?“

Working as a bartender wasn‘t what you thought you would be doing after college, but you definitely don‘t regret your decision. Making drinks, chatting to regulars, making new friends, sounds like a good life doesn‘t it?

As you take their orders, you watch your co-worker Chan out of the corner of your eye. A smile adorns his face as he shakes the shaker with ease. He looked effortlessly elegant with his button up, even though it never really was properly „buttoned up“, as he rolled up his sleeves to the point were his muscular arms were on full show and his chest exposed, more than the lords above allow it. What a sight of a man..

A Cosmopolitan, Manhattan and a Martini, the Classics. You slap the note onto the counter, scaring your new co-worker Hyunjin. „Hey Blondie, why don‘t you make these and bring them to the table of single ladies over there?“, you nudged your head to the direction of the table. The boy nodded eagerly, prepping the glasses for the cocktails as you sat down on the bar stool opposite of him. You rested your head on your hand as you watched him swiftly pouring liquor into the glasses.

The view infront of you took your breath away. His sparkling eyes, high cheek bones, the blond long hair framing his face perfectly. You couldn’t help but stare at him, completely zoning out as Hyunjin tried to grab your attention by waving his hands infront of your eyes. „y/n, hello, anyone there?....“ You shook your head as you sat up straight and rubbed your eyes. „What‘s the matter?“- „Could you maybe show me how to make a Cosmopolitan? I forgot..“

You loudly sighed as you got up and made your way behind the bar. You grabbed a shaker and filled it with ice as you started explaining. „So, one and a half ounces of vodka, one ounce of triple sec, half an ounce of lime juice and one ounce of club soda, into the shaker“ you hammered the lid onto to the shaker and started shaking it lightly. „Then, you get your strainer, strain it into the sugar rimmed glass, and garnish it with a lemon peel“, you said while handing him the finished cocktail. „Here you go“, you smiled at him, watching him scurrying away with his tray of drinks.

As you watch him serve the girls with a smile, Chan pushes you to the side to get to the bottle of Gin. „I see someone has hearts in their eyes..“, he giggles while playfully jabbing your ribs with his elbows. „Says the one who hits on every single female customer coming in“, you roll your eyes. He laughs slightly as he wraps his arm around your hip. „You know i only have eyes for you.. and maybe the new guy.“-„oh really?“, you cock your eyebrow.

„What are you two talking about?“, Hyunjin pops out of nowhere, setting the tray down on the counter. „Nothing...“, you stutter, „any orders?“ - „Yup, a Sangria, Moscow Mule and a round of Tequila shots for that table of guys over there.“ He walks off with a cockiness you couldn’t bare at all. „What a fucking brat“, you mumbled under you breath. „I know right?“, Chan chimes in, „how about a punishment for the pretty boy?“-„sounds good to me? I‘ll meet you outside after we‘re done closing for the night okay? take him with you.“ - „will do, Ma‘am!“ Chan saluted to you, obviously poking fun at you.

Oh, if he would only know what will happen tonight..

taglist: @yooniversalstudios @mikoto-ica-fics @peachyunjinnie @skkzuwu @braveshin @skzsmutnetwork @channiesmixtape send a 🖇 if you want to be added or removed

[malfoysqueen54]

Drunken Confessions

Pairing :Steve x Reader

I wrote this yrs ago for @avengerscompound​ Cards Against Humanity Challenge. First Marvel thing I wrote. So here it is I cleaned it up some and am sending it out to you all. Also if I have already tagged you before for this. Sorry but I redid it and am posting it on this blog.

Patron at Tony’s party. Leads to the ladies making some drunk confessions on one another. Including Y/n’s secrets about her crush. 

Masterlist

Tony’s parties always ended with them all sitting together half-drunk if not completely most of the time. They were a family and loved being together and having fun when they could relax. Even with just them it was still a crowd. All the women pleasantly buzzed and danced together as the men hung out giving one another crap and laughing. This hadn’t been a fancy get together more like pizza and football Sunday.

Y/n ran over to where the guys were with Jane, handing them drinks. “Just so you know. We are not your waitress’” Jane quirked a brow at them.

“But Y/N has a tray,” Tony pointed out. 

“Cause it takes a pack mule to water you boys.” She finished setting drinks down and then smacked Tony with the tray.  The guys all chuckled as Tony rubbed his head.

Nat came over and pointed at Steve and Bucky’s drink. “Don’t let anyone else drink those.”

Steve and Bucky raised their brows and looked at one another. “Thor?” Steve asked and Nat smirked. Bucky chuckled and grabbed his drink.

Darcy popped up from behind the bar. “Y/N! Nat!” The two women turned. “I found Patron. Tony tried to hide it.” She said excitedly. “OOOH there are like three bottles” Darcy looked down.

 Nat and Y/N scrambled grinning to the bar. “This party just got dirtier.” Clint chuckled into his drink shaking his head. 

“What is it with tequila?” Scott asked.

Sam chuckled. “ It makes women hot and for some reason remove their clothes. They get wild.”

“Hope hun, you should have some shots with the girls” Scott turned speaking to his woman making the group of men begin laughing again.

“Jane, I think you should try it.” Thor added as well. His friends turned to look at him. “What? Like you all are not thinking about it.”

Sam high fives Thor. “People it’s gonna be a rowdy night!!”

The girls were around the bar and taking shots. “We can hear you!” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Yeah give her tequila. She is grouchy.” Bucky chuckled.

“Friday, turn up the music for the girls” Tony grinned. 

Steve watched her, even in simple jeans and a tank top hair thrown in a ponytail. She was beautiful. Y/n had been  in his life since he left the ice. Despite her flirtatious nature and complicated party lifestyle, he looked out for her and never told her he felt something for her. He had dreamed many times of being the guys she kissed at the club/bar/party and then saw leaving in the morning. May be one night, but oh he would make it count. He knew everyone thought him sweet, innocent, the model gentleman. He had let go though and explored. Steve just didn’t flaunt it like the others, he had caught up with 21st century women. He was proud of it too. Sam and Bucky were the only ones who really knew though.

It didn’t take long before a bottle of Patron was gone with the girls, they were giggling and dancing together as the guys shook their head at their antics. They were currently watching them dance in a big buzzed orgy to “Not Myself Tonight” By Christina Aguilera. Nat was making out with Y/n while Darcy was making out with Hope.

“What exactly is in that tequila?” Bucky asked in a sigh as the men watched mesmerized. 

“Is it wrong that I am totally turned on right now? I can’t look away” Scott shook his head.

“No” All the men sighed watching as the girls just kept dancing and laughing oblivious to the audience of testosterone.

Clint watched. “It might be a girl night,” watching Nat and Y/n.

“Huh?” Sam asked, not really paying attention.

“Nat and Y/n, let’s say scratch an itch for one another.” Clint smirked. “They are real close.” He winked. That did indeed grab the guy’s attention and they looked at him as the girls brought drink refills.

“You mean, Y/n and Nat have sex?” Thor asked as Jane set down his and the two super soldiers drinks. “Oh yeah.” Jane nodded smiling and walking back over to the bar. 

“Isn’t Nat with you though?” Steve asked as he adjusted how he sat.

“Yeah, but they both like men and women. So, they have that kind of friendship to fill that need” Clint shrugged. “Hunny is it a girl night?” He called out asking.

Nat came over smirking sitting on his lap as did the rest of the girls, alcohol having lowered their brains filters. “Maybe both”

“Ohhh” Clint smiled and kissed her. 

“What the hell actually goes on in this tower?!” Tony asked incredulously looking at Pepper. “Babe you really don’t want to know” She replied with a sly smile kissing his forehead.

Y/n chuckled sitting between Bucky and Sam. “Oh you act like you haven’t done a threesome before or orgy, please.” She rolled her eyes and downed another shot, handing one to Darcy.

“You're into women and men? Really?” Sam asked

“Hell yes, the best of both worlds. I am limited to Darcy and Nat currently though.”

“HEY!” Darcy protested as they all looked at her.

“Oops sorry Darc” She made a face.

“You are cheating on me?”Nat smacked Y/n thigh. quirking a brow.

Steve leaned towards Bucky. “Did we really live long enough to hear this conversation?”

“Uh huh. I am in heaven” Bucky licked his lips adjusting how he sat as Steve groaned.

“No! She’s not- I was curious, and after last time with Clint and that tech guy. Clint was mad, so she backed off” Darcy answered quickly.

Y/n pointed at her. “What she said.”

Nat looked at Clint. “Aw hunny are you still upset about that.” She asked sweetly.

“What happened besides four people in one bed. Not anything new where I am from.” Thor shrugged

Tony turned to Pepper. “You’re not a good girlfriend, why don’t you have female toys. Also, we are moving to Asgard.” Pepper smacked him in the back of the head.

“She said someone else’s name during her orgasm with me.” Clint said accusingly and Y/n rolled her eyes. All the men gasped like they had been burned looking at her. The holy grail of mistakes during sex,

“Ladies and gents, what is one thing that can bring an orgy to a screeching halt?” Tony stared at her accusingly. 

“What?! It was a mistake, UGH!” She groaned

 Nat smiled, shrugging. “I think it’s who it was” She chuckled.

“Yeah like- “Clint was cut off by Y/n knocking his drink out of his hand.

“You promised Barton” She snapped pointing at him.

 Sam grinned suddenly. “Ohhhh so it’s someone here.”

“Has to be, look how defensive she got” Tony pointed out.

“Who was it?” Scott asked excitedly. “Was it a guy or a girl?”

“A guy” Darcy answered before thinking and all the girls looked at her. “Oh, sorry Y/N/N”

Tony looked like a kid in a candy store before leaning forward with the other men. “Come on Barton, she deserves it. Is it one of us?”

“Oh My God…you ego freaks. I am getting more Patron.” Y/N walked to the bar.

Nat and Darcy chuckled following as Clint shook his head. “She’ll kill me. She promised. Never mention Steve again during sex.” All the men started hooting and hollering looking at Steve as his eyes widened. “Oh shit! Y/N, I’m sorry” Clint held up his hand as he backed off the chair. She had turned with a stunned death glare.

“Clint run,” Nat said as she tried to hold Y/N along with Darcy around the waist. “Calm down Y/n/n.”

“I’m gonna kill him.” Y/n growled able to knock Nat and Darcy off her due to their intoxication.

Bucky and Sam looked at Steve smirking. “She said your name as she orgasmed.” Sam goaded Steve on.

“While with another man. She was thinking about you” Bucky added nodding. Those two knew he had a thing for her. 

Y/n  couldn’t believe Clint did that, she had to throw attention off her. “Darcy’s vibrator is nicknamed Falcon” She yelled out.

“Y/N!” Darcy gasped as Sam looked at her stunned.

“Pepper wants to sleep with Clint.” Darcy shouted out.

“What the hell?” Tony exclaimed looking at Pepper.

“They are trying to throw attention from one another. This is interesting.” Thor smirked.

“Jane said she wants to have a threesome with Thor and Loki” Pepper tossed out. Jane looked shocked.

“Y/n has gotten herself off in Steve’s bed when he is away” Jane threw out, throwing it back on Y/n.

“Oh this is interesting” Scott grinned downing his drink

“NO!” Y/n screamed, stomping her foot covering her mouth in shock.

Sam and Bucky looked at Steve. He couldn’t help the shocked grin on his face.

“Hope has thought about Tony when she orgasms” Angel countered pointing at her. Hope fell off her chair trying to protest.

“N-Nat has a kink for Bucky’s metal arm, and wants him to do evil pleasurable things to her with it” Hope countered looking at Scott and pointing at Bucky.

Nat looked at Hope “Hey!!”

“What?!” they all looked up as they heard Clint exclaim from the vents.

Y/n put her hands on his hips “I knew it, the ventilation system is his happy place” She growled. The girls all started to bicker amongst themselves.

Tony looked at the guys.” Once we make eye contact they are going to scatter”

Sam nodded” They are buzzed they aren’t realizing yet, we heard all of that.”

“Go for the girl closest to you, catch them then exchange as needed.” Scott said.

They all agreed and nodded. Steve turned to Bucky. “Grab Y/N for me if she slips away.”

Bucky smirked and nodded his head. As the men looked up at the bickering crowd of women. Darcy looked and placed her hand on Nat and Y/N to get them to look up. The bickering stopped, silence fell. Steve locked intense gazes with her he saw her eyes widen as her hands came to cover her mouth. Yup it finally hit her he heard it all and was screwed. The men slowly rose out of their seats taking careful steps towards the group in a synced group of predators.

Y/n shook her head “Dodge and weave ladies. Every woman for herself!!!” She said, throwing Jane in her way as she took off. She made it to the elevators. Bucky saw nodding for Steve to take the stairs. “FRIDAY where did the elevator stop?” Steve asked as they took off down the stairs.

“It stopped on yours and Sergeant Barnes’ floor sir.”

“Hiding in the least obvious place. She’s smart” Bucky said heading another floor down to his and Steve’s floor.

Him and Steve entered silently, they didn’t dare turn on the lights and alert her. She was hiding behind the pillar in the corner by the main living areas door. She knew it opened but not that two of them came in. She didn’t see Steve move to the left only saw Bucky on the right. She sighed in relief and Bucky heard it. He waited till she carefully moved from her hiding spot and turned on her. “Bucky don’t scare me. Where is he?” She asked. She felt an arm wrap around her waist and the other slipped over her mouth stifling her scream of surprise. 

“Looking for me doll” She felt him whisper against her ear and she shivered as his breath fanned over her ear. Bucky smirked and saluted her as Steve dragged her farther into their living quarters. She panicked and began to fight him cursing behind his hand. “Shhh sweetheart. I just want to talk.” He whispered his lips grazing behind her ear this time. She couldn’t help the gentle moan that escaped her. Steve smiled at Bucky winking before closing his door and locked it letting her go.

She jerked away from him, putting some distance between them. “What is wrong with you?!” She snapped at him as he leaned back against his door. Steve knew she would try to bolt.

“Y/n/n, I ju- “He began but was cut off by her.

“No, No! We are not talking about this! I should be busy writing my resignation and planning my relocation to Zimbabwe.” She held her hand up to him.

“Y/N- “He tried again.

She shook her head holding a finger up to silence him. “So, what! Yes, Jesus. I said your name. I think about you sexually. Look I never made our friendship awkward. I never told you. I know you’re too good for me. I KNOW Steve. Your Captain America, I am a crappy agent who parties.” She waved her arms around. “You are the god damn moral compass or America. I know okay!”

Steve took a slight step from the door. “Sweetheart- “His head fell as he was cut off again.

“Please don’t sugarcoat this, don’t make me listen to the rejection I know is coming and have played out in my head a million times. Just- no more Patron.” She said letting out a huff of a laugh trying to keep the tears at bay. “I am so embarrassed can you please just- “

Y/n was finally cut off by Steve who came up to her quickly cupping her cheeks and pressing his lips to hers” Do you ever shut up?” He asked softly against her lips sealing them to hers once again running his tongue over the crease of her lips the gasp she released allowed him to delve in and explore her mouth. He felt her hands rest on his shoulders squeezing gently. Hesitant, confused, she didn’t want to pull her mouth away though ever as he wrapped her in his arms.

@thorne93​ @pegasusdragontiger​ @magellan-88​ @emoryhemsworth​ @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @buckysforeverprincess​ @st-eve-barnes​

[originofjaehyun]

Interlude: No More Drama | Part 1 | Elevator (127F)

Interlude: No More Drama Masterlist

Word count: 2,180

Warnings: Suggestive, cigarettes, and it gets pretty hot passionate towards the end lol. Plus, I didn’t proofread this.

Part 1 | Elevator (127F)

“Can’t take it anymore, just follow me”

Next

“Cheers to the happy couple!”

Soojung raised her glass high, followed by your friends and of course you. Hanbyul and Mingyu, your highschool (best) friend, have been dating for years and after constant whining from the rest of the gang, they have finally become husband and wife last week.

You weren’t feeling it that night though, for one reason to another. You decided to come because Hanbyul has been your best friend as far as you can remember, and bailing the night out is definitely not an option for you. You raised your G&T as the other follows with the same drinks.

“To a happy marriage!” Soyou continues.

“To a happy marriage!” the rest follows.

You drink the liquid on your glass, regretting that you actually participated on the cheers when it is your third glass of G&T, after two shots of tequila and a glass of wine. You drink with your eyes wide open when you locked gaze with a man just across your table that happens to sip a drink that coincidentally at the same time with you. You are tipsy, that you are aware, as you tried to make a guess on what drink he’s been holding. From the color, it is probably a whiskey highball, but you decided not to attempt on making any more guesses as your vision went blur and you started to talk nonsense, saying how much you love the couple.

You are able to hold your drink, but Soyou, who is self-proclaimed the event organizer for the night determined that the night is still young as she suddenly brought another bottle of gin. Your drinking resume has been quite clean, and this night is definitely not that night where you want to ruin it.

“Where are you going?” Hanbyul asked you, as you briskly tried to leave the place without spoiling the mood. Everybody is queuing as they wait for their turn to pour their serving of gin.

“Cigarette break, I felt quite tipsy already. I’ll come back when I sobered up.”

“You definitely not going back home sober, my dear friend.” She retaliates. 

You laughed, “More like I can’t, Hanbyul. I know by the time I came back you’re going to fill my glass to the brim.”

“But another gulp of alcohol would force me to vomit everything out. So I’ll pause for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

You brought your phone and your pack cigarette. You walked towards the balcony, and you regret your choice of clothing immediately. It was one of the nicest bars in Seoul, where it is located on a rooftop at one of the high-rises in the middle of the city. You can practically see the skyline of the city from here, and for that reason, Soyou booked the party here because she said there’s no way we’re celebrating this big of a celebration at some mediocre bar. Semi-formal attire is needed if you want to enter the bar, so you decided to wear a black halter top that leaves a one-third part of your back exposed, paired them with white cigarette trousers and a pair of black mules. The wind at this height is really harsh, but you really need a fresh breeze anyway. 

You tucked your phone on one of the pockets of your trousers, slip the white stick in-between your lips as you franticly tried to find your lighter that is nowhere to be found. You must’ve left them in your bag and now you have to walk all the way back to your table.

“Looking for a lighter?”

The owner of the voice standing right next to you, with a lighter on his hand. His voice was deep and velvety, like a rich and smooth hot chocolate. 

“Oh!” You flinched because you didn’t realize a figure was there next to you.

“Actually, yes. Thanks.” You took the lighter out of his hand, as you flick it and revealed the color of amber.

He chuckled, revealing dimples on both of his cheeks, enough to make your heart flutter. He dressed up very neatly, a high profile, you must say, so him having a set of dimples that are so adorable is definitely unexpected. “No problem.”

He took back the lighter as you returned it to him, while he took his own cigarette out of his jacket and light up the white stick and puffed out smokes out of his lips.

Fuck, that’s hot. You thought to yourself.

“Sorry?” He said while taking the stick out of his mouth with his index and middle fingers.

Realized you probably blurted the words out instead of keeping it inside your brain, you inhaled your cigs, making a few seconds of silence. “Oh, nothing.” You lied, as you don’t want to come off as a flirty woman that flirts with anyone. Though you know he would probably hear of those words millions time already. He might not be the hottest person in the world, but he is most definitely the most attractive man you’ve ever encountered. 

“I swear I thought I heard you said ‘Fuck, that’s hot’. Am I hearing things?” He repeated your words. As he saw your ears turned bright red, he knows he’s not just hearing things. He lets out a devilish smirk. “Is that for me?”

Seeing there’s no way you could escape his teasing, you just admit the truth, “There’s no one else nearby right?” as you take another sip from your cigs.

His eyes widened with your directness. He pushes the smoke away before letting his words out of his mouth. “For the record,” He said while inhaling another sip, “You’re just as hot.”

You felt your face is like on fire. Not sure because of the alcohol that starts to kick in or because a very handsome man just told you that you’re hot. Before you guys could continue to converse, your phone starts to vibrate and you saw your best friend name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“[Y/N]? Where are you?”

“I told you I’m smoking outside. I’ll be there in a minute, I’m halfway done.” As you saw the light is already midway from the cigarette you’re holding.

“Ok, later can you please help me bring Soyou’s bag downstair? She’s so drunk right now and passed out at the toilet. Mingyu and Seojun helped me carried her down, I think Seojun will have to drive her back. The rest are still upstairs, but they’ve been jugging down that fucking bottle of gin like crazy and I think you are the soberest person. At least you picked up my phone.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Hanbyul, I’m this tipsy and I’m the soberest? You better not hire Soyou for the next event you’re going to hold.”

“I know right? There’s no need to rush, finish up your cig. We’re already inside Seojun’s car anyway.”

After saying your goodbye, you took another sip of your cig as the person next to you starts to open up another conversation with you.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, except my friend just passed out.”

“Do you need any help?” He said, genuinely concerned.

You smiled at him, “I’m good, I just need to bring her bag downstairs to the car. Also, didn’t you come here with your friends?”

“So you were watching me?” He smirked again.

“Well, you hit me first, sir.” you scoffed.

He pushed his cigarette butt to the nearby ashtray, “So I wasn’t wrong when I felt we locked gaze inside. Come on, let me help you out.” as he used his eye gesture to tell you to finish up your cigarette.

You’re a bit iffy with this man. Why would a stranger help you out anyway? You didn’t realize you knotted your brows together.

“I just can’t leave a woman alone, it would leave a bad taste on my mouth. Also, it seems like the rest of your gang are having the best time of their life to give you a helping hand.”

You took a peek inside and confirmed that what he said was true. Soojung and Yerim are already flirting with don’t-know-whos, while Junhoe making sure the table is still occupied while he continues to drink. You couldn’t help but sigh at the sight. 

“Let’s go.” He nods his head at the direction of your table, making sure you followed him.

He told you he would wait in front of the elevator, as you go back to your table to take Soyou’s bag. You told Junhoe briefly what Hanbyul said to you and he just nods in agreement.

His eyes sparkled as he saw you walk, approaching him. That gaze sends a shiver to your spines. 

“All good?”

“Yea, they’re having a blast when their friend is practically blacked out.” You said in a sarcastic tone. Both of you are laughing with your remarks.

Then you saw the buttons are not lighting up, meaning he hasn’t pushed it to make the elevator come and pick you guys up. Maybe he was a bit tipsy too, so he forgot? You thought to yourself while spreads your arms out to push the button. He stopped you before you could.

“Are you having a blast, too?” He asked while holding your hand, and you swore to high heaven it is as seems like he has watched you since the beginning, how you didn’t feel like partying tonight, how off you were during that party.

“It’s my best friend’s wedding celebration, how could I not?” You said, but your tone was contradicting with the sentence. Realizing there’s no point lying to a – technically a stranger you just met, you actually feel liberated to just tell him the truth. “I just don’t feel like partying tonight, but I can’t skip this or else she would kill me.”

“Do you want to have a good time?” He said, straight to your eyes. By then you know exactly what he meant. You weren’t sure, you never did this before. You are always very careful with your previous relationships, making sure you know who the person you’re dating and their background and you’re not the type of person who would freefall without knowing you have a safety net underneath. But somehow, probably the alcohol really pushed a side that even you don’t know, makes you want to taste him back. You give him a nod of approval. He smirked, but you are sure his gaze is able to gobble you up.

“I’m going to press the button and when the elevator comes and it doesn’t feel right, you can push me away.”

He pressed the button and as if he doesn’t want to lose any more second, he pulls you closer to him and kissed you. It was gentle at first, but as the numbers go higher, he got more and more passionate with his kiss. You pulled him closer, as you put both of your hand on his cheek, welcoming every inch of his lips. He knows you want more, and you can feel his tongue starts to slither inside your own, exploring it with all his might. You embraced it, and every time you did you left a small soft moan, enough to make him want you even more. He lowers his hands that were originally on your hips, squeezing your ass, making you moan louder. Not that you care that much, the music was loud enough to cover your moans. There was no one in front of the elevator, it was the peak of the night and all of the attention was to the DJ inside.

You didn’t want to be the only one who feels good, and you started to touch him too. After destroying his well-styled hair, you move your hands down to his pecs, and you can tell he keeps himself fit, as it was rock-solid. As you move your hands lower, you can hear him hissed in pleasure, but refuses to let go of your lips. He wants to consume you and drained every essence of you. Delighted that he feel what you’ve felt, you pressed him closer, pulling the belt on his trousers, ready for more.

Ding!

The sound of the elevator coming separated you. It was an abrupt way to end a kiss and both of you can’t help to giggle. You sound so cute to him, and he gently stroke your head, cleaning up the mess he made to your hair.

“That was awesome.” He said, eyes stare at you lovingly.

“I share the sentiment.” You said as you fix his hair too while waiting for the elevator to open. Once you start walking inside of the elevator, he follows you while chuckling.

“You know, I never learn your name. Mine is Jaehyun, by the way.”

“Don’t you think we messed up the step?” You sneer. “It’s [Y/N].”

Both of you are now inside, and as he about to press the button to the parking lot, he looked at you and you know exactly what he had intended.

“One more time.”

[shawnpetermuffins]

Sabotage

A/n: I feel like I haven’t written about Shawn in a while even though it’s only been a week lol

Requested by @myyohmyuohmyy: I would love a best friend Shawn that’s dating someone but will always somehow find a way to sabotage any dates y/n tries to go on and she confronts him about it.

Summary: You and Shawn have been best friends since forever, but you’re just now realizing that he’s the reason none of your relationships have ever worked out. 

Warnings: maybe angst, maybe fluff

***

“What are you getting ready for? And why do you look so hot?” I ask my best friend through my computer screen while I  watch her slip into a little black dress.

“Didn’t I tell you last week that I have a date tonight?” She poses in the mirror, but shakes her head, ultimately deciding that the dress is “too skimpy: for a first date. 

“Oh,” I say. “You’re still going on that?”

She nods, going through her dresser for something else to wear. “Yeah. Hey, what do you think of my distressed black shorts? You know the ones I wore when we went to the beach with the guys a couple weeks ago.”

What do I think of them? I think you looked like a fucking goddess and I wanted to punch every guy that had the audacity to look at you in them. Almost had to tackle Brian and Connor when they commented on how “fine” you looked in them. “I like them,” I say finally. 

“And if I paired them with this,” she takes a hanger from her closet, “off the shoulder shirt? Cute or not?”

I let out a strangled moan, this is torture. Not to mention she’s staring at me through the screen in just those shorts and a bra. “I know I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes... or hands off you.” I mumble, not intending for her to hear.

She giggles, “Then I think this is perfect.” y/n slips the shirt over her frame and fixes the shoulders of it so that they fall in just the right way. “Hair down or up?”

“Down,” I say automatically. It’s long enough to cover her neck, which is ideal since I don’t want this guy looking at her neck and thinking he has space to leave bites and kisses that only I should ever be able to leave. 

I know it’s wrong. Thinking this way isn’t exactly how one should think about their best friend, but I can’t help it. I’ve been in love with her since we were thirteen years old, when she moved in just down the street from me. Brian pointed her out one day when he was over. And be the awkward yet, way too ambitious teenager I was, I went over to her house, where she was sitting under a tree reading some intimidatingly large book and I fell. Like literally fell. I tripped over my own big ass feet and fell flat on my face right at the end of her lawn. But she was too consumed in what she was reading to notice. It was Brian’s loud laughter that made her look up, and my constant moaning in pain. 

When she came to see me, you could see the concern in her eyes. Not that I could blame her because I was kind of bleeding right in front of one of the most breathtaking girls I have ever seen in my life.

"Shawn? Are you listening?"

"Sorry," I shake my head. "What'd you say?"

"Shoes. Sandals or wedges?"

"Um... sandals." Wedges make her legs look too good.

---

"I'm gonna call her," I tell Brian. I'm five tequila shots and one Moscow mule in and I'm already feeling a little tipsy.

"Shawn, no. You do this every time. You call her while she's on her date and she has to rush over to you because you're needy. Let her have fun on this date."

"I can't, Brian!"

"Why not? She's living her life! Let her! She let's you go out to bars and you have girls hanging all over you at all times. She doesn't try and keep you from that. So why are you trying to keep her?"

"Because I'm in love with her!" I blurt before downing the rest of my drink. "And these guys she goes out with," I shake my head. "They don't deserve her, man."

"And you think you do?"

"God no." I scoff. "But I know her. I know what she wants. What she needs. I can take care of her."

"How do you know someone else can't do that for her? You never give her the chance to find that out."

Don't get me wrong. I love Brian; I would die for him, truly. But he's too blunt when he's had a few drinks and I kinda want to punch him. But he's right, more often than not. So I don't call her.

However, that doesn't stop me from showing up at her doorstep no less than an hour later, after another five shots. I know I'm drunk enough that she's not going to send me home. And so I sit outside her door, waiting for her to show up after this long date. I'm practically passed out when I hear the soft slap of her sandals and a few absent giggles tumbling from her mouth. But they stop short when she eyes me.

"Shawn? What are you doing here? Bub, are you okay?" She kneels down beside me, the back of her hand coming to my sweaty forehead.

I mumble out a response, not one that either of us understand though.

"Is everything okay?" Her date asks and I try my best to scowl at the man who took my girl out.

"Caleb, I'm sorry," she says and goes to move away from me. I groan in protest, trying to pull her back to me. "Shawn, babe, just give me a minute." She stands up and I loosely watch her go to him, Caleb. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "He gets like this sometimes, and I'm really the only one he can come to for this. Maybe we can take a rain check on that drink?" I close my eyes because I, one, can't stand to see her with another guys, and two, because the lights in this hallway are too bright.

"Yeah, no. It's no problem. I'll call you?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Do you need help getting him inside?"

"Uh... no. I'm okay. Thank you." I hear the unmistakable sound of lips smacking and I want to hit my head against the wall. I don't realize that I do until y/n is by my side again. "You okay there, rockstar?"

"M'fine."

"Okay... well why don't you stand up so I can get you inside, yeah?"

I nod slowly, my head throbbing. From the copious amount of alcohol in my system or hitting my head, I don't know. But I still manage to get on my feet, with the help of my girl and the wall behind me. I lean into her while she attempts to open the door. "Your hair smells soogood," I slur.

"Thank you, come on." She brings me inside and lays me down on the couch - the coziest couch to lay on when you're drunk. She taking care of me, like she always does and I can't help but smile contently.

"You're so pretty," I mumble.

But she doesn't respond as she pats my forehead with a cold, wet cloth. I close my eyes at the sensation. "Shawn, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Why do you keep doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Calling me away from my dates. Or showing up when you know I'm coming home."

"Y/n, I don't do that." I say defensively.

"Oh you don't?" She tosses the cloth beside her. "So you didn't call me two months ago when I was with Henry? You didn't claim to have a broken ankle that really just turned out to be a little swollen? You didn't call two weeks ago saying Brian was drunk out of his mind and you needed help? And you didn't show up tonight drunk out of your mind, so I could take care of you?"

"Honey," I reach for her hand, eyeing her warily.

"You know, I never get a second date. I haven't gotten a second date since senior year. And the common denominator in all my faily attempts at dating... is you."

"Y/n."

"Stop. I just want to know why you keep showing up every time."

"They don't deserve you," I say after an eternity.

"Don't you think that should be up to me? Not my friend who is rarely ever home because his job takes him around the world months and months out of a year." Hearing her call me just a friend really sucks, I'll be honest.

"You'll settle. You shouldn't have to, but you would. I know you, baby. I know what you want. I know what you need."

"What are you talking about, Shawn?" She rubs her forehead tiredly.

"I'm trying to tell you..." should I say it? Is now a good time? "I'm in love with you." Guess so.

"What?" She stares at me, eyes wide.

I sit up, the pounding in my head getting harder and louder. "I'm in love with you." I take her hand and thank God that she doesn't pull back. "I've been in love with you since I was thirteen years old."

"So what? You thought you could just sabotage any date I got? How did you even manage that? No offense, but you weren't all that intimidating in school."

I shrug, "I could be when I wanted to."

She scoffs and takes her hands out of mine. "So you're in love with me. And you waited eight years to tell me? You ruined every date I went on for eight years. All for what?"

"Because I'm a selfish bastard," I shake my head. "I don't want to share you. Look, I know you're way out of my league and that I don't deserve you. But I can take care of you. I can give you everything you need."

"You're drunk, Shawn. You don't know what you're saying."

"Yes, I do," I defend. "You and I both know the truth tumbles out when I drink."

She plays silently with the ring on her finger, pursing her lips.

"Y/n, I've told you how I feel about you. Are you gonna tell me?"

She sighs and when she finally looks at me, I see the tears threatening to fall. "Of course I like you, Shawn. But... you're gone so much. It would never work. You and me are better off as friends. Because if I lost you as that, I couldn't go on. Breaking up is one thing, but losing your best friend is a whole other level of heartbreak."

"People do long distance all the time and they turn out fine."

"But you do realize that ours would never be regular long distance, right? You travel from city to city every other day singing to thousands of people. You have cameras flashing in your face nearly every time you even take a breath - especially right now. Not to mention we'd have to hide it from the public because it wouldn't look good for you career wise to have a girlfriend and-"

"You've thought about this?"

She let's out a sad laugh, "cried myself to sleep many times thinking about it."

I whine when I hear that. I've never wanted her crying over me. "Y/n. We can make this work," I take her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. And then I do what I've been dying to do since the day I met her. I kiss her and she kissed back and its magic. She hums and I pull her into my lap, deepening the kiss. "We'll find a way," I manage to say before slipping my tongue in her mouth.

"Can't lose you," she mutters, tugging on my hair.

"Never, baby. Never." I keep her close as we continue to make out on her couch. The details of what this is could come tomorrow, but right now, while she's making quick work of removing the hem of my shirt from my jeans, I just want to focus on her. I want to go to sleep tonight feeling nothing but the love I have for her and hope that it's being reciprocated enough that we can work this out.

***

Tags: @sunrise-shawn @anamariel2301 @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @turtoix @ivegotparticulartaste @tomshufflepuff @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson @lifeoftheparty74 @shawnssongs @luvluvxx @foreveralone19588 @shawnandconnor @5-seconds-of-mendes @emma-manuhpe @nedthegay

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[penwieldingdreamer]

Accidentally in Love

So as there are so few stories about the good Doctor Mike Varshavski I thought I’d try my luck here. I’m in no way a nurse or a doctor, so every medical term or anything to do with medicine will be reviewed on the WWW. Let me know what you think, and if it’s worth getting to the 2nd chapter.

Summary

After a long shift, Mike only wanted to get home to his two dogs Roxy and Bear, but the woman coming to the ER shortly before the end of his work day might have more in store for him than he thought

Chapter 1

With a slight wince I closed my eyes, leaning back on the hard bed of the ER, feeling the springs nudging harshly into my back through the thin mattress.

It was a stark contrast to the soft hands working on my face.

“Okay, Miss Bennett. That was the last of it.” the doctor sitting by my head said, pulling his gloves off.

Now the normal reaction of someone getting their head stitched up and smiled at by the nice doctor in the ER, having better things to do like saving lives, would be a 'Thank you', but I'm not normal – and drunk.

Which was why I ended up at the hospital at 2am on a Saturday night.

“You're hot, Mr. Doctor Mike.” I slurred, my head lolling back and the darkness enveloping me, my only coherent thought being the hole I needed to find to crawl into.

~¤~

“How come you always end up with a douche?”

Karen, my best friend since High School took a long sip of her Cosmo, shaking her head at my unfortunate luck. The guy I was supposed to meet for the night had stood me up, telling me he couldn't come to the restaurant I had invited him. Unfortunately I had already been there and saw him with another woman.

So, yeah, it's bad luck and bad karma right now.

Grabbing my third shot of Tequila, which I really deserved after that supposed date, I glared at her. “Well, maybe, because you always try to set me up on these dates. How many of your co-workers have you got to send them my way?”

She held up her hands and grimaced. “You know, I'm only trying to help you out. You've suffered the single life long enough now. Pete was an asshole, but I want you to see that not all of them are like him.”

“Yeah? Good luck with that.” I grumbled, the rosé wine in my hand. After that fiasco we had met up and gone out to Pinot's Pallette, a nice bar near the Overlook Medical Center in Summit, NJ, where Karen worked as a nurse.

She always thought with me being traumatized by Pete's ways in the relationship we had, Karen needed to find a way to get me back on track.

My first and last relationship lasted three months and after the break up I threw myself into work. But now my friend was tired of my 'I don't have time for a relationship' excuses and my mother always chewed my ear of, telling me how she would never see me walk down the isle and have more grandbabies.

Karen put her hand on mine as I leaned back in the seat, looking over at her. “I'm sorry for all the idiots I'm sending your way. I just thought with them being doctors and nurses at the center that they would at least be the right ones.”

“You know Karen, my mom and you could conspire together, she'd love nothing more than that.” I waved to the bar keeper to get me another shot of Tequila.

My friend smiled at me, reaching up to brush my brown locks out of my face. “We just want what's best for you, Laur.”

“Ha, yeah.” I grumbled onto my glass, taking a sip from my cocktail. “At the moment I'm quite happy with my apartment in a nice neighborhood, that I'm able to afford and a job I like, so no worries about me having a good life.”

Moving away from me, Karen surrendered and let out a sigh of defeat. “All right, if I promise to not set you up on another blind date, will you stop looking so sour and enjoy your night out with me? Evan has been a little chit since he decided to move in with me.”

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me when she told me about her boyfriend. He was a nice guy, a doctor working at Overlook, but he also had his negative traits, like leaving his clothes all over the place or the dirty dishes in the sink until Karen came home from her shift to clean it up.

She grinned at me and lightly hit my arm, the dark mood I had been in just moments ago flown out the window.

After another hour and one more glass of wine we both decided to call it a night, the time already flying now that it was nearly one in the morning.

“I'll just head to the restroom, all that wine and jokes are making themselves known.” Karen said, the corner of her lips lifting in a mock pained smile, getting up from her seat, swiftly grabbing her jacket and purse and moving to the toilets.

At the mention of a full bladder, mine called to attention, too, so I followed her, my tote and cardigan in hand.

The restrooms were located in the back of the bar, down a flight of stairs. The blonde in front of me grinned, linking our arms like we always did.

I was just about to take the first step down, with Karen behind me, when a couple, giggling like crazy made their way up to us. Mentally shaking my head at their antics I turned back to my friend, rolling my eyes.

“Laura?”

That's when a soft gasp tore itself from my throat, the voice still all too familiar.

“Pete?” I cocked out, so shocked at seeing him again.

Karen watched us carefully, hoping neither of us would make a scene. And just as my ex-boyfriend wanted to say something, I tripped, missing one of the steps. Falling.

I don't know if it took only minutes or hours to land at the bottom of the stairs, but it all happened in slow motion and all I could see was the horrified look on Karen's face, all I could feel was the pain that spread all over.

With how fast she ran down the steps, she nearly crashed into the wall, helping me to sit up. Pete stood frozen on the top of the stair well, watching everything unfold, while his date obviously wanted to move on. “Come on, she's drunk of her ass, no wonder she crashed.”

“We should call an ambulance.” he muttered, pulling out his phone, but Karen stopped him. “No need, I'll take her over to Overlook. We'll be fine.”

Nodding his head, Pete and the giggly woman left us while the blonde beside me was in full on nurse mode, trying to see what I had gotten myself into now.

She knew I was clumsy, always had been, but when I was drunk it was even worse. With a grimace I looked up at Karen, the pain radiating from my head down to my left hand and leg. And it wasn't the only uncomfortable thing that happened, no.

“Karen?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I peed my pants.” I spoke so softly and Karen had to strain to hear me.

~¤~

“So, Doc, you got plans after shift?” Matilda, a middle aged nurse at Overlook asked the young doctor, as he leaned on the nurse station the emergency department.

He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah not really, Matilda, it's been a long shift, so I'm just heading back to my fathers, getting the dogs and sleep.”

“Not to worry, you only got about twenty min...” she started, but the entrance door to the ER was pushed open. Karen Walters, one of the nurses working at the hospital came in, supporting a young woman to help her walk through.

“Mike, thank god.” she called, seeing the dark haired doctor standing there. “I kinda need your help.”

Mike immediately jumped into Doctor mode and helped the young woman onto a stretcher. “Get Bay 3 ready. Obvious laceration to the head, probably needs stitches.”

He then turned to Karen, ignoring to slight groan coming from the bed. “What happened?”

“Her name's Laura Bennett, age twenty-five, Caucasian . We were out for drinks, then ran into her ex-boyfriend and she tripped, fell down a couple of stairs. Hit her head pretty hard but I don't know about the rest. She's stubborn like a mule when she's drunk and won't let me check.”

“I'm not stubborn.” she slurred, throwing her left arm over her face and showing off a few nasty bruises along her forearm, a big one around her wrist. They'd have to get it checked out in X-Ray. “But I think I peed my pants.”

Mike winced slightly, thankful that she didn't seem to be in too much pain or not feel it with all the alcohol in her system. “It looks like a sprained wrist, but we'll have to x-ray it after I stitched her head.” he told Karen, before turning to Laura. “Miss Bennett, how about your friend helps you out of these bloody clothes and into one of our nice and warm gowns, then I can take a good look at your injuries.”

With a lopsided grin, the young woman eyed him carefully. “Oh, now I get it. You want to see me naked.”

The blonde nurse groaned and apologized profusely for her friends behavior, thinking that maybe she hit her head harder than she thought. “Sorry, I guess it's the alcohol and the hammering head that's got her like this.”

Mike smiled, laying his hand on Karen's arm and nodding back to Laura. “No worries. At least she's a woman. I already got three guys flirting with me today. Now help her get changed.”

~¤~

[poignantpulchritude]

Silly Pleasures-Chapter 3

“No, no, no we are not wearing just blue jeans and lip balm to Paradise tonight, go back to your room!”

“C’mon, it’ll be dark, no one will see.”

“But I will see. It’s the principal of the thing Jeanne,” Molly responded, sounding much more like a disappointed mother than friend and flat mate.

“Then you need to help me because I think you’ll hate anything I’d come down in.”

“Fine, gimme a few,” Molly spoke as she curled the last few strands of her golden hair.

I trudged my way back to my room, there were already clothes strewn all over the floor, making it difficult to walk. I plopped down on my bed, laying in down until my body was directly in the center. Clubs were not usually my scene, I much preferred a grimy pub because I liked talking, not really dancing, when drunk. No one ever talked at clubs, words were replaced by groping and bad remixes of passable songs. The saving grace for tonight was that we were going to have a table in the VIP section, which meant less interaction with overly friendly guys that felt they were God’s gift to women’s vaginas.

Molly sauntered into my room and headed straight for my closet. I lifted my head off the bed to watch her rummage through the mess I created. It took a few minutes as more clothes were thrown onto my floor until Molly finally made a triumphant sound and pulled out a small pink dress I was sent by one of my regulars. It was a bright, neon pink mini dress with sheer pink long sleeves. The dress had never seen the light of day since it arrived in the post since, I don’t spend much of my free time strutting around in expensive party dresses.

“Hmmm, I don’t know Molls, it’s pretty bright.”

“It’s fabulous, I know someone sent it to you because everything else you own is so dull. You absolutely have to wear it!”

“I don’t even know if it fits,” I groaned, falling back into my fluffy duvet. 

*

It fit. 

In reality, it actually looked quite nice. I mostly only dressed up in expensive lingerie while online and that covered very little of my body, if any of it. I tried to be annoyed that it was a dress, but found it hard to give reasons why I should not wear it.

“Okay fine,” I conceded with a smirk. Molly squealed and did a small hop in the air.

“You look like Dua Lipa with a fatter bum, it’s amazing!”

I giggled to myself and could not hide the smile. The dress was short enough to show of my large thigh tattoo of Medusa, but not too short that I felt my thong was on show. I paired the look with white, patent leather boots, looking a bit like it was 1980 and I was coming out of Studio 54. 

With my makeup and hair complete, I headed downstairs at the exact moment a knock came on our door. I headed down the hall and opened the door to see Rosie and Amber looking dashing in tight black dresses and thigh high boots. It seemed at time that they wanted to look like twins the amount of times they would dress the same. When turned my way, their jaws dropped. 

“What the fuck J, you look hot!”

“-Jesus, let’s make out tonight!”

I shut up both of their ramblings with quick hugs and invited them inside. The plan was to meet up at me and Molly’s place and then meet Keith at Paradise. Paradise was in the heart of Soho and even though we were not too far away, we collectively agreed we would walk as little as possible tonight. As we walked back to the kitchen, Molly was descending the stairs in a bright blue jumpsuit that made everyone in the room drool. 

“To getting fucked!” Amber exclaimed as we all held tequila shots in the air.

“Wait literally or figuratively?” Rosie asked.

“Doesn’t matter!” Molly said at the same time I yelled, “Both!”

As the shot burned down my throat, I relished the warmth that would no doubt lead to an exciting night.

“Gahhhh that’s dreadful,” Molly gagged.

*

The line outside of Paradise was ridiculous. It hadn’t been open very long and the crowds had yet to die down. We spotted Keith on his phone, standing right by the front door. “Oh, my god, I was so nervous I thought for a minute you would ditch me,” he said sheepishly.

“What the fuck?” I asked rhetorically, in a confused manner.

“When have we ever ditched you?” Molly questioned, amused at his anxiety. 

“God, I don’t know, never mind. I just learned that Matt is supposed to be here so every second I was alone I started feeling terrible.” I gave him a soft look in response. Matt was Keith’s ex-boyfriend, a man that completely ripped his heart to shreds yet he had not been able to completely get over him. 

“Don’t worry, you probably won’t see him anyway,” Rosie assured him. Keith did not look convinced, but brushed it off and led us to the doors. It only took a few seconds to check for his name on the list and we were let in, skipping at least eighty people waiting in line. 

I hated to give clubs too much credit, but Paradise looked impressive inside. The walls were a jungle print wallpaper with low yellow lights along the sides. The VIP section was located along the sides of the room, surrounding the main dance floor with its own bars behind it. All of the people dancing in the center of the floor helped explain the long line outside. This place was filled to capacity and it was still early in the night. We were led to our VIP booth and greeted by an almost nude girl with sparklers next to a bottle of champagne and vodka.

“Oh yes!” Amber screamed. We all looked at the bottle girl in awe, seeing her as the female Hermes with alcohol as the only message to deliver. Behind her appeared another man carrying a large bucket of ice that contained glasses and mixers. Our entire group was in, well, paradise. 

“This may end up being one of the best nights of my life,” I spoke, or more accurately- yelled, in Keith’s ear. He just smiled, appearing to finally brush off his nervousness surrounding Matt. 

Eventually, with the champagne popped and the bottles flowing, we noticed the VIP section start to fill with a very particular crowd. 

“Molly!” Rosie shouted, “Is that fucking Alexa Chung?” Skipping subtlety, she pointed directly at the slim brunette a few tables over. 

“Oh, my god, what is happening,” I heard Molly respond. Looking around, I noticed more and more people with jarring numbers of Instagram followers enter the VIP section.

“Just think, you may be able to get expensive dick tonight!” Keith hollered and I cackled loudly in response and agreement. 

Instead of focusing too much on the people entering, myself and Amber were making increasingly more vile drinks that we convinced ourselves tasted good. Amber, getting considerably more drunk as time passed, pulled me out of our booth and to the small section of floor directly in front of our booth that was still blocked off from the general public. My own tipsiness spurring on the decision to dance wildly.

“I love this song!” she screamed in my ear as a throwback 2000s song played to the crowd’s delight. We danced and jumped in circles until we couldn’t anymore. Along with our absurd dancing, we also decided to shout the lyrics, trying to be louder than the speakers. Molly quickly joined us, leaving Rosie and Keith to have an animated conversation back at our booth. 

I could tell I was slowly getting to the point of drunk, right at that sweet spot when everything was pleasant and bright. I always had to pee at these points. “Come with me to pee!” I said to Molly and Amber, very excited to check out the Paradise bathroom. Before they could properly respond, I grabbed both of their hands and dragged them to toilets in the back corner. I was so excited, I was not watching where I was walking and ended up bumping into a tall guy’s shoulder. “Sorry!” I exclaimed with a giggle, ripping my hands free from Molly and Amber and instead placed one hand on his silk shirt by his shoulder and the other on his check. “Sorry!” I yelled again with a smile, looking intently into his green eyes that looked vaguely familiar. I did not have time to get a better look at his face because my bladder took control of my body and I was suddenly done with our little interaction. I heard a surprised, happy laugh behind me as we all walked away.

The line for the toilets was short enough that we were actually waiting right outside the stalls by the mirrors. I love mirrors and couldn’t help myself as I walked over and whipped out my phone to catch a good angle. 

“Whoa, whoa J. Did you know who that just was?” Amber said, incredibly eager. Molly looked in shock and it was clear that I missed something very big.

“Who? The girl with the nice boots we just walked past?” I asked genuinely confused. Before Amber could respond a stall emptied and I quickly ran inside, dragging Amber and Molly with me. They were both having a quite an animated conversation above me as I peed, but the floor was spinning a bit too much for me to care. I knew I had only one drink left in me before I was done for the night, so it had to be a good one. 

“I’m going to get a Moscow Mule!” I declared when I finished peeing. 

“But we have free alcohol at the table,” Molly said firmly. She seemed the most put together of the bunch, but I knew I was deceived, having learned over time that the more serious she appeared the drunker she actually was. I just shrugged, smiled, and walked out of the stall without waiting for them to pee. When I was drunk and on a mission, nothing else mattered.

I made my way steadily to the bar in the back, making sure not to run into anymore moving bodies. This bar was packed considering it was in the noticeably calmer section of the club. I squeezed my way in between groups of people, maneuvering between flirting guys and annoyed girls, ending up in snuggled between the shoulders of two men. The one on the right had a crisp white button up while the one on the left had an odd silk shirt with tigers all over it. I remembered it as the shirt I bumped into moments ago. Before I could yell in his ear that I apparently knew him, someone jostled me from behind. This knocked me further forward in between the two men, alerting them to my intrusive presence.

I was met once again by green eyes, but this time I did get the chance to look at him more. He was at taller than me, with brown hair pushed in all directions over his head. As I examined his face more, I noticed the corners of his mouth turn upwards revealing a prominent dimple. It took me a moment to realize he may have been smiling because I was staring so intently at his lips. 

“I know you!” he spoke happily in a deep, English accent. This brought me out of my analysis of his lips to actually pay attention to what he was saying. 

“I just ran into you!” I yelled.

“I did it first,” he smiled. I was not sure what he meant by that statement, but before I could question it his friend spoke.

“Hello lovely, do we know each other?”

I turned to look at his friend and detected immediately that it was the man I listened to every morning on my way to class. “Ah!” I shouted and Nick Grimshaw grimaced at my noise, “I know you, but you don’t know me. You’re on the radio and friends with Matty Healy!” 

He gave his friend an amused look and responded, “That I am, do you know who that is?” he questioned, pointing back at silk shirt boy. 

“Yea, he’s the boy I bumped into on the way to pee, we’re friends now,” I affirmed proudly. I heard them both laugh at my words, but I was not paying much attention anymore as the bartender came by us and I yelled quickly, “A Moscow Mule please and thanks!”

I had my body pressed quite closely to silk shirt boy, with my hand resting on the bar, ready to take my drink when it arrived. “I like your dress,” he spoke from above. I just looked up and smiled before raising both arms over my head in an excited movement, showing off my sleeves.

“Thanks! My friend gave it to me.” I’m not sure if I would really consider the client that sent me the dress much of a friend, but I thought explaining in this state would be too much trouble. 

His eyes went to my left forearm when I lifted my arms above my head. Green eyes widened at the tattoo before him, a large snake cut into eighths with the words ‘Join or Die’ etched below it. “Wow this is amazing, may I?” he asked, suggesting a closer look. 

I obliged and pulled up my left sleeve so he could get a clearer view without the sheer pink material over it. “It’s obnoxiously American of me,” I informed him giggling from the alcohol. He gave me a confused look before I continued, “It’s a Benjamin Franklin cartoon about the Revolutionary War. This is probably a tough crowd to show it off in.” I’m not sure how many Englishmen wanted to be reminded of their lost colony. 

“That’s sick,” he responded enthusiastically, gently tracing his finger along the edges of the snake, causing my arm to break out in goosebumps.

“Moscow Mule, twelve pounds.”

The bartender broke me from my trance as I used the hand that was being examined to rip out my credit card from my bra. I heard Nick laugh loudly at the action. “What, it’s the safest place for a girl to carry her delicates. I have everything in here.” Nick and his friend both gave me skeptical looks, urging my innate need to prove myself to come to a head. I then proceeded to whip out two Advil, forty pounds, my ID, and three condoms from my bra.

“Why do you need three of them?” Nick asked, referencing the condoms.

“Because you never know what could happen,” I shrugged, looking up at the silk shirt boy boldly. He raised his eyebrows and looked straight back into my eyes. I felt a small tap on the arm resting on the bar and saw the bartender handing me back my card. I quickly collected everything I pulled out my bra and returned it to its proper position, ready to take my Moscow Mule and head back to my group when a tattooed hand stopped me again. 

“What’s your name?” Silk shirt boy asked.

“You tell me yours first.”

“Harry.” I just nodded, smiling. “Now yours?”

I smirked and went up on my tip toes in my white boots, steading myself on his chest again, and whispered in his ear, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” I heard his breath hitch when my lips grazed his ear. I pulled away, smirked one last time, and then walked back into the crowd, daring myself to not glance back. Rosie saw me giggling with my straw caught between my teeth as I returned to our group.

“You’ve been gone for a year, where were you lot?” Keith asked as Molly and Amber came up behind me, followed by two boys. 

“We need to go,” Amber smirked, motioning to the boy behind her, her conquest for the night. Everyone agreed except me, refusing to accept that my night was coming to an end since I just got my favorite drink. 

“Down it and we are going,” Molly giggled. I saw the boy behind her slowly rubbing the sides of her hips, eager to leave as well.

“How did you get them so quick?” I asked in her ear. “I was at the bar for maybe ten minutes.”

She shrugged, “We work fast.”

It took me a minute to down my drink. It would have been quicker if it was not so strong. I could tell that drink was a bad move the second the last drop went down my throat. I was holding hands with Keith as we made our way out of the club and back into reality. As we exited, we were faced with hordes of flashing lights. Paparazzi no doubt hoping we were people of notoriety considering the celebrities in attendance tonight. This thought prompted me to blurt out, “Oh, guess who I met tonight!” speaking to no one in particular. 

“You mean the popstar?” Molly’s head ripped around quick. I gave her a puzzled look, knowing full well that Nick Grimshaw did not sing any songs I was aware of.  

“Only you would not notice a former member of One Direction even though you caressed his bloody face,” Amber said behind me. I stopped moving, beginning to feel bile rise in my throat. I was unclear if I was going to get sick because of the alcohol or the new information I was slowly processing. 

“What?” Keith yelled looking at me, “Who did you meet?”

I ripped myself from his arms and ran to the closest pile of trash away from the paparazzi and threw up. I heard the sympathetic voices of my friends behind me, but I could only think of one thing. I just blew off Harry fucking Styles.

[b-afterhours]

Avenue of Sins (part eight)

summary: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.

warnings: adult content, mature readers only.

if you’re seeing this for the first time you can read part one here and if you need to catch up on previous chapters go here.

series playlist

authors note: thank you so much for being so patient! i can’t thank you all enough that anyone would even care so much for a new chapter. i am so grateful for you all. thank being said the series is coming to a close soon but thanks for staying on the ride!

moodboard: @bohemianfortunes thank you so much its perfect!

Days had passed yet neither of them could find significant time alone. There was no time to sneak off during club hours. And most disappointingly they didn’t have the time nor the energy at home. They would both plop into bed exhausted from the late nights and the little hours of sleep. There were times Alma would find Bill’s hand under her skirt teasing her or she would pin him to his office chair in the loft leaving small bruises on his neck with her teeth teasing each other – building up hope for something more but once home either one was too drunk to get it up or the other was too drunk to stay awake to get to that grand slam ending they desperately wanted. Effectively leaving each other sexually frustrated. The fast lifestyle of debauchery came with tons of endless fun but it did have its drawbacks and it so happened to be cutting into their nonexistent sex life at the moment.

Alma spent her work shift that evening nauseous from a hangover, trying to reach that drunken state she was at last night so that she could forget about her churning belly. Ever the clever alcoholic she thought she was, she chugged down Moscow Mule’s believing the ginger beer would help settle her stomach as she chased the buzz she craved for.

“Bundy?” She called for him. “Wanna take a shot with me?”

“Jeff,” He corrected. “But, sure what’re we having?” He said peering down the other side of the bar, eagerly rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“I don’t know what does a killer like to drink?” She giggled feeling the drinks finally giving her a satisfyingly playful buzz.

“Oh don’t fuckin’ start Echo,” he couldn’t help but laugh just a little.

“I’ll tell you what! Tequila!” She sang sliding his shot towards him. “Cheers!” A shiver ran up her spine when the shot passed her tongue and down her throat.

Bundy sneered at the taste as he slammed the empty shot glass down. “What’s up with him?” He pointed while wiping his lips dry.

Alma didn’t bother turning to see who he was referring to because she knew he was talking about Craig. “He’s in a mood, he’s always like that,” she shrugged.

“So he usually cries?”

“What?” She whipped her head back and faced the glistening of tears brimming in his eyes as he dried drinking glasses. “Craig?” He shook his head upon hearing his name pulling him from his depressed daze as he sniffled, squaring his shoulders. “Dude, take a break you’re gonna bum everyone out looking like that out here.”

“Sorry, it’s just,” his voice cracked and his hand snapped up into a fist to hold back a sob.

“Just, go take a break,” she said gently pushing him towards the back.

Alma shook her head pouring herself another shot and shooting it back just as fast as she poured it. “I-” she frowned a bit contemplating. “That was kinda mean huh?”

“A little…” Bundy digressed.

“Shit. I’ll go check on him, I guess.”

She quickly walked down the end of the bar to see him standing at the threshold in waiting, biting his lip anxiously. “Come on you’re with me,” she said ushering him along. Queenie stepped out of the walk-in fridge with prepared garnishes in hand looking startled to see Craig there.

“He’s good,” Alma said hopping atop a prep table in the very back. “He’s taking a break let the other girls know.” Queenie nodded and hurriedly walked back to the bar as fast as her tall skinny heels would allow.

“You gonna be fine? You can go home-”

“No. Sorry but I don’t want to be there right now...” he sniffled.

Alma crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “Veronica still giving you trouble?”

“I wish… there’s nothing to go back to,” his voice cracked again.

“What- um nothing to go to?” Alma felt her heart sink she knew what was coming but she had to act oblivious.

“She left me,” he said as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. “She took everything. She left me like I meant nothing...”

“Shit dude. I, I’m sorry… Did she mention where she was going?”

“No,” he said shaking his head. “N-not really she uh left me a note,” he reached into his back pocket procuring his wallet and pulling out a folded up piece of notebook paper. He handed it over Alma who had to unfold it multiple times to get it open. There wasn’t much to read but she could tell by the blurred ruled blue lines that Craig had read it over and over again with his tears raining down on the paper.

Craig, I am not happy. I have to leave this life and that means leaving you. Please, understand I do not want to be found. If you ever loved me, don’t go looking for me. I’ll miss you.

Much love and kisses, Veronica.

She signed, dotting the I in her name with a small hollow heart. Even that little stylistic choice of hers annoyed Alma. Though, giving the note another once over, her writing seemed shaky and rushed. She imagined she wrote it with a Russo henchman’s pistol pressed against her temple which leads her to wonder if all the tear stains on the paper could have also been from her.

“This is it?” She said dismissively, playing along as she handed it back.

“Yeah, that’s it, that bitch. Shit, I shouldn’t say that...” he said regretfully.

“No, you can. She is a bitch for leaving with just a slip of paper with a bullshit excuse.”

“I gave her everything when I met her she had nowhere to go. I gave her a place to sleep and a fucking job at my cousin's place after she got fired from here!”

“Whoa! That’s a lie she didn’t get fired, she walked out.”

“Are you serious? She told me Bill practically threw her out of this place.” Alma shook her head. “That’s another thing, Bill! Fucking Bill!”

“Okay, you need to be careful with how you talk about him,” she warned.

“She– you see this part?” He pointed near the end of the letter. “Much love and kisses, my ass!? Not even an ‘I love you’? It’s like she physically can’t because she’s always been hung up over Bill… No matter what, I knew she couldn’t really love me because she was still thinking about him!” He began to pace as he grew angrier. “She always blamed you for that you know? She’s so fucking jealous over that guy. And especially you, she swore I’d retaliate by getting to you...”

“There’s a lot you’re saying here and quite frankly I’m a little lost,” Alma took a deep breath trying to take full use of what was left of her sober mind. “But I get it, okay. But Blondie is crazy and selfish. You didn’t deserve that or how she treated you. Alright,” she sighed unsure want to do about the emotional and dispirited man before her. “Just chill back here for a bit and calm down.” She hopped off the table and held her arms out in a sorry invitation for a hug. “Look, I’m really bad at comforting people I don’t know what else to do?”

Craig solemnly nodded walking into her embrace. His shoulders started to quiver as he was full-on sobbing again. Alma had to push against his weight to keep herself from crumbling from it. She rolled her eyes as she awkwardly patted his back. “It’s gonna be alright Craig,” she sighed. Suddenly she felt incredibly regretful more so than she had ever been. Bill and she had been systematically fucking up his life right at the time they were supposed to end it. They were the scummiest assholes on earth. It made her feel no different than the peers who tormented them in high school. Maybe, it’s how they learned to be so good at it?

Craig straightened up, wiping his nose with the inside of his work shirt. “Thanks and sorry,” he said wiping the tears that had landed on her bare shoulder. “It’s hard when you love someone and they don’t love you back no matter what you do. You know?”

Alma frowned, “Sadly I do.” Her heart ached to admit that. “But you’re gonna be okay, I promise,” and then it cracked ever so slightly speaking comfort to a dead man.

“He’s so stupid. There’s no reason he shouldn’t love you look at you!”

“He loves me just… not like that.”

“I could.”

Alma’s eyes widened for a moment before looking away uncomfortably at his statement. “That’s nice of you Craig but-”

“Sorry, but I’m serious you’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she muttered.

Awkward tension filled the air. Alma turned her gaze up at him. His black curls falling on his forehead and his eyes were a shade of hazel surrounded by dark enviously long lashes. The longer she stood there she could feel the alcohol taking its effect on her and her sense leaving. Yet, oddly she felt seen by him in that they could commiserate in their respective unrequited love.

“You gonna go for it or?” He lifted a suggestive brow.

“Go for what,” she asked shifting between feet though there was a coy glimmer in her eye. And when he gently glided his hand on her hip she didn’t stop him. And when he had pressed her against haphazardly stacked, teetering shipment boxes she didn’t stop him. She felt like she was out of her body and out of her mind for letting him put her in this compromising position where they could be caught at any moment by anyone. Yet when he got down on his knees, his hands pushing up the sleek black dress she was wearing while he peppered kisses on her warm inner thighs she still didn’t stop him.

With his face buried between her thighs, she peered every so often through the cracks between boxes making sure no one was nearing the door. The more he delved his tongue into her she completely forgot where she was and what she was doing and who she was doing it with. Though in the back of her mind, her nagging conscious was reminding her how utterly wrong it all was yet it only served to entice her further.

Craig harshly gripped on her thighs to keep her from roughly grinding on his face and finally when his tongue flipped back to the pulsing nerve she let out an audible moan that she had been trying so hard to keep from slipping past her lips. She hooked a leg over his shoulder and gripped on to the curls on his head pushing his face closer as she neared a euphoric high that she had been missing for some time. The sexual tension she had been dealing with melting away with every flick of his tongue.

“D-don’t stop,” she muttered, breathlessly.

Craig stopped, backing his head away with a defiant smirk on his face. “Not so fast little birdie. What are you going to do for me?”

“What?”

“We’ve gotten this far?”

“I don’t… We shouldn’t even be fucking doing this,” she shook her head.

He stood up, pressing his hardness against where his tongue once was, working her to near climax before denying her of that and ruining it for a shot of a little something for himself. She shuttered desperate to reach an end she had been craving.

“I’ll let you finish on my cock?” He whispered in her ear as he snaked his hand under her dress toying with her. She didn’t respond afraid if she agreed to anything or so much say a word he’d stop his fingers like he did with his tongue. “Oh you’re a naughty, selfish thing aren’t you? You want to come first, huh?” All she could do was nod as she mewled and whimpered with his two fingers teasingly working inside her. “But I want to be inside you. Filling you up with more than just my fingers. Don’t you want that?”

There was a slight noise over by the door startling them which prompted them to quickly pull away. It would have been blatantly obvious to anyone that they had been up to something but to their relief it was only just the sound of the AC kicking on and a gust of wind, tussling the tassels of the vinyl strip door.

The very realization that they could have been caught brought Alma to her senses. She only wanted to come but she didn’t want to reciprocate it. Suddenly she felt foolish. Deep down she knew Craig was a perv’ and the fact that the whole situation could go south was a possibility. Knowing what happened to Kansas had her on edge. Yet when she suggested they should go back to work, he nodded but only under the assurance that there could be another chance with her. It was a lie but it worked for her plenty of other times and gave her enough space to successfully ghost. With Craig working with her, though, it was a bit trickier to do her classic disappearing act. But it would have to suffice for now.

“Um, you go out first,” she said patting him on the back awkwardly like some little league player at the end of a game. One whose team lost terribly.

Once she was alone she quickly adjusted her dress back to her body and then ran her hands through her hair angry with herself. She paced in the same space Craig had for a moment chewing on her lip aggravated at herself for being a, “big stupid slut”. While shaking her arms out and taking a deep breath she noticed her tequila buzz was fading and only made her want to down a whole bottle now.

As Alma was just about to step out when she saw Bill held up by a customer near the bar through the janky strip doors cracks. The fact that he wasn’t at his usual spot at the VIP booth indicated that he had noticed her absence or maybe her security, Paul and Rashad informed him, either way, it was just as bad. She paused, taking two steps back on her high heels and quickly leaned down towards a box of dusty expired bottles of grenadine where she kept her own rainy day stash of coke. It made for a good a cover, once Bill moseyed his way to the back he’d find her doing blow and suspect she had been back there going bump for bump. Needless to say, she needed one anyway.

“There you are,” he smiled sweetly with such a boyish charm that usually would make her swoon but she could hardly look him in the eyes. “I was hoping you had one busted out. I need a hit bad.” He said leaning against the wall beside him. “I forget everyone here is so loaded they’re too chatty and I need to be on their level to pretend I give a fuck what they’re saying,” he laughed.

“Imagine being the bartender?” She said sniffing a bump she scooped with her pinkie nail. “I hear it all night from drunks and coke heads.”

Bill leaned down to take a bump that Alma had prepared the nail on her little finger, inhaling sharply he tilted his head back for a moment. “I heard Craig was back here crying?” He lifted a brow.

“Uh, yeah,” Alma diverted her eyes back to the small pink baggie digging in for another bump as a way to avoid his eyes. “Didn’t you hear from Joey? She’s gone?”

“Blondie,” Bill whispered. “Really? Like gone, gone? I left my beeper in the loft so I haven’t seen if I got a page.”

“We can talk about it there later. But yeah...” She said sniffing another bump feeling the familiar satisfying tingles surging up and down the back of her neck.

“Maybe we should go to the loft now? It’s kinda slow out there?” He said with his hand grazing the same side of her hip that Craig had.

“Uh, I can’t I-I started,” she lied. There was no way she was going to let him touch her without showering off Craig’s touch from her body first.

“Your period?” She replied to him with a nod

. “Already?” He said surprised. The shitty thing about having him as a roommate is that he knew her cycle pretty well. “You know I don’t care?”

“I know. I just feel, gross?”

“It’s fine. I get it,” he digressed. “Girls,” he sighed.

…

That whole night she felt awkward tension working around Craig, trying to weave by him and avoid eye contact with him as humanly possible. She leaned on the bar near Bundy again, listening and not listening to his drunken babbling. Her main focus was on Bill just behind him in a booth speaking with a few Wall Street businessmen, sharing beers with them looking like they were talking money. She found herself enamored with him, just as she was when they first became friends and again when she first arrived in New York meeting him again. He always had an air of confidence that she admired and wish she had. Those years she spent growing into her twenties without him she mimicked his tough yet smooth exterior the best she could remember it then. She lived on her own, alone in St. Louis before moving to New York City so she didn’t need anyone to see her as a vulnerable target, someone to mess with just because she was a girl. She walked like she was six foot three when on the inside she was just a girl wanting to be seen, wanting to be someone and wanting to be loved, truly loved. But that was pussy shit she thought, that didn’t fit with the punk rock quota she lived by. But she was an adult in nearing her late twenties, punk rock – the real punk rock – died years ago with a slacked jaw, with the bloodshot whites of its eyes on show and needle stuck in the crux of its elbow just like those who pioneered it. The lifestyle was starting to feel tired and music – real music that had initially brought Alma to Bill was gone. And whatever bullshit was playing on MTV just wasn’t the same.

She sipped on her drink pulling herself out of her own deprecating thoughts wishing for a shower and wishing Bill was the one eating her out in the back room earlier. Maybe then she would have came. In fact, she knew she would have and that part made her angry with herself. Letting Craig get a piece of her and she got nothing in return for it. When it came to transactional hookups it was against everything she stood for.

~~~

The first time Alma and Bill hooked up was strange. Strange, though they both knew it was a long time coming. Yet it still felt unexpected and afterward, she was scared she fucked up the very friendship she lived and moved her whole life for. It was a night like any old night at Trigger Finger, she had been living in the city for a full year and they were in the loft tired yet laughing about something stupid she did at a frat party her freshman year of college back home. It was just the two of them sitting on the couch next to each other when he held her hand after stubbing out the cigarette they shared. Alma didn’t think much about the gesture knowing he had been drinking but inside she felt her heart soar feeling seventeen again even with such a simple act.

“Only you could get some frat losers to kiss each other to get a chance at you.”

“A chance they never got!” She said laughing with him.

He looked at her almost with a seriousness hadn’t been for the smile still on his face. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he sighed. “It’s nice to talk to someone that actually knows me, you know?”

“Me too,” she sheepishly agreed.

“All of this,” he spun his finger in the air. “It’s nice but it’s so,” his eyes wandered scanning the ceiling for the right word, “I don’t know, repetitive? Sometimes I guess, lonely?” He shook his head feeling uncomfortably vulnerable even with his best friend. “Maybe that’s why an old broad like Myrna kept my company?”

At that time Alma had only known the surface level of his friendship with the previous owner of the club so she only replied with a simple nod. Alma had no idea that he talked constantly about her to his old friend and that she told him a day like this would come when they’d be together again. He didn’t believe it would happen but here she was. He knew better than to doubt old Myrna she was never wrong about anything. But even with her right by his side at that very moment, even though she had been there for a whole year now it was still hard for him to wrap his head around. Bill leaned into her, his head resting atop of hers.

“Are you ready to go home? Should I drive?” She asked.

“’M not drunk, just sleepy,” he yawned. “Come, I’m fine to drive,” he said swiftly rising to his feet and pulling her along with him.

The rain that had been weighing heavily in the dark clouds above the city came free-falling down halfway through their commute and was now pinging off the car's roof and streaming down the windshield in a blurry wet sheet. It was clearly not letting up anytime soon. He turned the car keys cutting the engine off but letting them sit idle in the ignition. Alma looked out the passenger window to the level she remembered their apartment stood and reached for her door handle ready to jet inside and into her warm bed until Bill gently rested his hand on her knee prompting her to wait.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said shaking his head as he looked away and out the windshield watching the rain flow down distorting and diffusing out the street lights and office lights from the skyscrapers ahead in thought. There was certainly something on his mind and she knew it had been swimming in his head since before they left loft at the club. “Remember the night before I left Strathburg?” He finally said.

“Yeah? We hung out on the school bleachers baked as hell ‘til the sun came up,” she lightly laughed.

“Yeah,” he bashfully chucked. “But after, when I took you back home?”

“When uh-”

“When I kissed you,” he said turning to look at her with his striking green-eyed gaze, how they still glowed in the minimal light. The little space between them shrunk despite them not moving an inch. Their eyes were locked gauging on what the other might do or say until Bill took it upon himself to speak. “I think about it still,” he admitted. “I think about why it took me so long to do that?”

“Really?” Alma said in disbelief. “Why did it take so long?”

“Alma,” he softly whined. “Don’t make this any cornier than it is.”

“Okay? So what are you trying to say? That you want to kiss me again?” She retorted. “If you want to kiss me then do it.”

“Just like that, huh?” He said reaching over, his single large hand holding her face in place. Lightly, he pressed her cheeks together pushing her lips into a pucker and then he leaned in firmly planting a kiss on her lips. It felt as if they were transported back to that day many years ago in his brothers' borrowed car outside her old humble home in Strathburg, Missouri. Though this time they let their hands roam as the kiss deepened no longer hindered by the adolescent bashfulness that held them back finally adding the feelings they had meant the first time their lips met. Before they had realized Alma had shimmied her way on to his lap facing him while his hands were under her shirt at the ready to unclasp her bra until she awkwardly fumbled back in the tight space causing her bottom to lay on the horn by accident. His hands snapped pulling her away as they laughed.

“Shit sorry,” she said softly. “Scoot your chair back.”

“It’s already pushed back as far as it can go… Should we go inside?” He said watching her hands work to undo his buckle.

“I don’t want to wait,” she whined kissing his neck, soft yet stubbed with hair, making him groan. “At least lean the chair all the way back?”

“But in the car?”

“We can do it how you want inside once we’re done in here,” she smirked wiggling to lift her dress over her hips eager for him to finally give in to what they both desired.

“Already thinking of round two before the first starts?” He said cocking a brow with a smirk of his own as his hand cupped her making her shudder at his touch at the most sensitive part of her. He was at first hesitant, considering what the implications would be if hooking up with his childhood friend could mean ruining that very relationship. But that thought went out the window along with his senses when his fingers pulled her panties aside and felt how wet she was for him. She sighed at his touch, needily bucking her hips for more. “Fuck,” he whispered.

“I want you inside me already,” she whispered closely to his ear. “Don’t you want to feel me already too?” Though she sounded confidently eager, her heart was pounding nervously in her chest. Coaxing him and herself to merge in one quickly before either she or he could change their mind thinking better than to muddy the lines of their friendship.

Bill leaned back fumbling with the button of his jeans with Alma’s help she pulled his briefs down enough to expose him and stroking him only a few times before she crawled up the chair into a position comfortable enough within the tight space to line herself up with him. She hovered above with her head bent pressing against the ceiling of the car.

“Holy fuck,” Bill said under his breath looking down with lust lidded eyes as she slowly inched down at first adjusting to his size until she sank down. “Oh fuck!” He said clamping his hands to her waist to keep her from moving right then afraid he might end up a two-pump chump. He held her there to keep himself distracted enough to calm himself down but raised a hand to her neck pulling her down for a passionate kiss to satiate her. A slow-building shiver went up Alma’s spine feeling full of him and feeling the twitches of his cock with every slight movement she made.

Leaning back she slowly rocked her hips as much as he would allow while trying to take his restricting hands off her waist and coax them to her breasts but he wouldn’t loosen them. She took a glance at him and began to giggle at his intensely focused expression. “Are we gonna just sit here like this?” She said playfully.

“If you move too much the cars going to start rocking...”

“Are you worried about that or that fact that you’re about to bust?” They both began to chuckle, the awkward feelings and nervousness melting away. “Would you rather go inside?”

“No! Fuck no,” he said sitting up slightly to get his feet as flat on the floorboard that he could, “not yet.” He wrapped his arms around her now and began thrusting upward causing Alma to yelp at the abrupt feeling. The car was rocking only minutes under the veil of water until. It. Stopped still.

“Did you come? Shit, I’m sorry,” he panted.

Shaking her head she said, “And you came all over my dress and, somehow shot the window kinda...” Despite the pitter patter of pouring rain, there was thick silence inside the car until they began to uproariously laugh louder than the thunder.

“Jesus Christ… I swear that doesn’t hap-”

“Make it up to me inside,” she said opening the car door, sliding off him, and darting out into the torrential rain.

Before he could even have time to dwell on how his whole mind and body reverted to being a teen boy again, Bill followed getting soaked in the rain, jogging after her as she took the lead up the five flights of stairs pretending to chase after her until closing in on her skipping steps two at a time with his long capable legs. She was laughing the whole way until he grabbed a hold of her just down the hallway from their place already tearing away at their wet clinging clothing before the door could even be unlocked. He made it up to Alma tenfold up until very early in the morning exhausting themselves. Having each other every which way, hard, fast, slow. They had every intention to go for another round when taking another break but their resting eyes had stayed closed as they slept comfortably in each other's arms.

Bill had woke long before her, had already taken a shower and was bring her a cup of coffee for her and himself to bed when he stopped at the threshold. She was still soundly asleep, sunken into the plush bed with wild hair and her naked chest exposed. He couldn’t help but think she was so beautiful and then dreadfully wondered if maybe he had fucked everything up. What if she woke up deciding that she had made a mistake being with him. That she didn’t see him the same anymore. That a line was crossed that he couldn’t take back. But worse he was worried that when she woke, the same thoughts he was having would race through her mind as well.

He quietly walked to his side of the bed and sat down gently putting his cup down on the nightstand after a sip. He took his free hand pushing her unruly hair out of her face, stirring her softly awake. She blinked her bleary eyes and the corners of her lips turned up happy to see him there presenting the coffee for her to drink. He’s still here? She thought, used to waking up alone after a romp with someone or vice versa. She had the same thoughts as he did for a moment while she slowly sat up taking the mug from his hand and then set it down next to his after a few sips and a scalded tongue. She plopped down again, her body tired, ghosts of his hands still lingering on her flesh.

“You okay?” He asked trying to read her face for regret or disappointment, anything but she kept looking at everything but him. If she would just look at him he’d know he’d have nothing to worry about. The eyes never lie.

“I am. Are you?” She said finally looking him in the eyes searching as well.

Flashes of what they did to each other’s bodies, molding and joining, biting and caressing coming forth flooding in their minds they hadn’t even realized their lips met again for more.

~~~

When Alma laid in her bed alone she kept thinking how much of an idiot she was for her incident with Craig. She hated wanting Bill more than he was willing to give her. She wanted his exclusivity yet she was going off making herself into a fool seeking validation through other men whom she knew wouldn’t ever give her that. She didn’t want that from them either yet she put herself in those situations regardless. 

When she broke apart from Bill to sleep in her bed without him, he didn’t bother to convince her to join him instead like he always did. He was tired she could tell but paranoia joined her regretful thoughts. Did he know? Did he suspect? How could he? He’d never think she’d do a thing like that. Not his best friend. Not his Alma...

tags: @dreamtherapy @bskarsgardlove92 @tinygayfungi@skarswhat @nutinanutshell @xskarsgardx @reinamysterio @darling-dearest-desired@erika-beau-berika @fine-i-suppose @corlin90 @codependentcellist @loveforbillskasgard@kikilikes @twosupergayghosts @umbriellethenightfall @tigers-pat @billullabies

(please let me know whether you’d like to be added/removed from tags)

[happys-crazy-queen22]

No Longer A Secret

Gif Credit @ratcoven

Requested By Anon. I hope you like it! Thank you for requesting.

Tag List: @chriscrosscerulli  @ilovetaquitosmmmm  @batgirl09151997

Happy Reading Dollies 

Original Character Slutkowski.. 

You have been friends with Ryan and his family for years. His mom thought of you dearly. She always said that you and him would end up together and give her grandbabies. You thought she was crazy until about two years ago something in you snapped and the feelings for Ryan started to pour out but you didn't dare mention them to Ryan. That was until someone stepped in and tried taking him away.

"Oh Ry Ry, I can't wait for us to be husband and wife". Ryan's girlfriend sang annoying the shit out of everyone. We were at band practice he was supposed to leave her but here she is hanging all over him, rubbing up on him and distracting him from his work.

"I'm trying not to be mean but that fucking bitch it getting on my last fucking nerve, fuck". You exclaimed quietly. Only you Chris and Balz heard you.

"Are you sick of her fuckery"? Balz laughed then gagged as he saw Ryan and his girlfriend start making out. You turned your head to see. These feelings in you made you want to bludgeon her to death with Ryan's guitar. But you restrained yourself from doing so.

"I'm going to get some fresh air and a shot of tequila or two".

"I'll come with you". Balz followed you out to the patio sitting down at the table. You breathed in deeply.

"So where's the tequila"?

"I dont have any".

"Then why did I come out here"?

"To get away from slutkowski in there". "I can't believe she's talking about fucking marrying him". "They've been dating for three months".

"Why do you care so much, it's his life let him screw it up".

"I don't want him to get hurt because you will be helping me bury a body".

"How did I get dragged into your love triangle"?

You sat upright and straightened your face trying to seem like his question didn't bother you.

"What are you talking about"? You cleared your throat playing with your hair. A nervous tick of yours.

"Ever since he started dating her you've gone bat shit crazy".

"I'm worried about him, that's what friends do".

"You're more worried than we are. You're afraid you've lost your chance with Ryan".

"No I'm not".

"Y/N come on. I know you. You love him and I mean love love him". "I don't get the whole love thing but I see it in your eyes when you galke at him from afar".

"It's that obvious"?

"You could see it from space. I don't know how Ryan doesn't see it".

"See what"? Ryan's voice made you jump out of your chair. Even Balz jumped grabbing his chest. Your heart pounded a mile a minute.

"Nothing". You covered. Balz rolled his eyes and kicked your foot underneath the table. You hissed at him. Ryan looked at you both confused.

"What's going on"? He sat beside you. Your knee began to shake. Another nervous tick.

"Nothing gosh, shouldnt you be in there with your future wife"? You yelled getting up from the table storming back inside.

"Smooth Y/N Smooth". Josh said as you disappeared.

"What's that all about"? "Did you hurt her"? Balz was taken back by the question.

"Are you fucking serious"?

"She seems distressed".

"You can look at her when she's distressed but you can't look at her and tell she fucking loves you".

"Um..wha..did she say that"? Ryan stuttered.

"If she wore a neon yellow sign you still wouldn't see it. She could dance naked and you still wouldn't see. "Your so far up slutkowski ass to notice". Balz couldn’t say the name with out a laugh. He didn’t know how you said it with out laughing.

"She loves me"? Ryan mouthed.

"Yes". "So you need to go after her and tell her how you feel".

"What are you getting at? I'm with slutkowski as you and Y/N so nicely put it".

"Do you remember that day at the barbeque? You saw Y/N in that purple bikini and said how it made her curves show and that she looked beautiful. You were confessing your love for her but didn't know".

"I was being friendly".

"Right and I have two dicks".

"Well I know you're lying cause I've unwillingly seen you naked hundreds of times".

"So get off your ass and go get her".

Ryan didn't hesitate. He searched for you until he saw you loading up the equipment into the trailer.

"Y/N". He called out running over to you. Out of breath Ryan tried to talk.

"I...ove...ou..oo".

"Catch your breath. You really need to lay off the cigarettes". You put a guitar into the trailer and sat down on the bumper.

"I love you too".

"Excuse me"? Your ears may have been damaged by Chris's screaming but did he just say he loved me?

"I love you. That feels so good to get off my chest".

"What? How?".

"I was talking to Balz and he said I needed to get off my ass and tell you how I feel".

"We should thank him but he needs to mind his own business". You got up and started to load more equipment up.

"Are you mad"?

"No, I just wanted you to figure it out on your own".

"I needed a push. I was with that in there".

"Oh Mrs. Slutkowski"?

"Nice name by the way. Why didn't you try and stop me"?

"Have you met yourself? You're stubborn as a mule".

"But now I'm not and I want you".

"Shouldn't you tell that"? You pointed to her as she came out. Ryan didnt see her.

"I will but I have to tell you how I feel".

"About what Ry Ry"? You heard he annoying voice.

"Oh shit". Ryan turned around seeing her with his hoodie on.

"Um.. Can I get some help"? He asked you. Ryan hated confrontation.

"Sure Ry Ry. Listen he's leaving you so you should leave and the hoodie stays. Okay good bye".

"You bitch!" She started smacking Ryan who was helpless.

"Whoa whoa". You got her off and stood in between them.

She swung her arm and clobbered you in the head with her fist.

You reacted fast and tackled her to the ground. You werent doing no cat fight shit. You threw punches and ground your knees into her sides. Bitch was going down.

"Guys"!!! Ryan screamed. He couldn't handle you as he was getting hit from trying to pull you off.

Chris, Balz and Ricky came running out. Balz and Ryan tried pulling you off but you were hooked to her still throwing punches.

"Let go of her Y/N". Ryan pleaded. You released your grip on her and backed away.

She laid there bloody with strands of hair laying around her. You may have did a little cat fight.

"You okay". Ryan asked as he cupped your face. She had gotten in a few blows one to your eye another to your lip and you thought she punched you in the boob cause it hurt.

"Yeah, I'm cool. Just get her out of here".

"You'll regret this". She spat at you. Throwing the hoodie at Ryan.

"Damn Y/N you whooped her ass. Great job". Balz high fived you. You got a little blood on him. "Ew". He looked at his hand when he went back inside.

"You nailed her". Ryan chuckled.

"Are you sure you can handle me"?

"Yes". Ryan looked at you oddly.

"You had to call in back up".

"You were throwing punches at me too". Ryan laughed.

"Oh sorry about that". "You okay"?

"Yeah, I'm better with you". Ryan stepped closer to you resting his hands on your waist.

"I'm not easy to handle and I will get in a fight if someone touches you".

"I've known you a long time. I know how you are and I'm prepared to stand by your side".

You bit your lip with a grin. "I love you too".

Ryan leaned in about to kiss you. You stopped him with your hand.

"I want to kiss you so badly but I'm bloody and you've kissed her so maybe we'll try this after I shower and you have gargled bleach".

"Okay". Ryan kissed your head.

"I can't wait to tell mom".

"She always said we'd get together but didn't tell us how".

"Yeah it would have been a nice warning if it was going to be a fight".

"Now what's the fun in that if she would have told us"?

"There would have been less drama and no blood shed also I wouldn't have dated her". "Then I would be able to kiss you".

"Oh come here". You kissed his lips fast. Wiping them off with the inside of your shirt.

"Happy"?

"Very much". Ryan smirked walking back into the building his hand in yours. Your secrets were out and slutkowski gone now you couldn't be happier.

[we-are-inevitable]

Javid with angst 7 and fluff 30

THIS WAS SO CUTE I LOVE IT !!!!!!! modern au bc i said so, also these boys are dumb

Prompt: “I love you.” “No, you don’t.” / “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

Word Count: 1537

The front door opens to reveal a frazzled David Jacobs with a single black coffee, one bag of groceries, and an overstuffed satchel crossed over his torso.

The groceries were the first to drop to the floor. Jack knew that nothing in the bag was damaged; if something inside was fragile, then David surely would have brought the bag to the apartment’s small kitchen rather than discarding it onto the floor. As he watched the taller man set his coffee on the small table next to the front door, Jack couldn’t help but smile.

“Rough day, Davey?”

“You. Have. No. Idea,” David crosses the room and inelegantly drops his school bag into the chair against the wall, heading straight for the kitchen. “I’m convinced that Professor Snyder is incompetent. There is no fucking way I got less than a 90 on my midterm report, Jack, there’s no way! But no! Apparently he gave me a goddamn 86 on the paper--”

“I’m sorry, but is there somethin’ wrong with an 86? Seems pretty good to me,” Jack says as he stands up off of the couch, following David to the kitchen. “Don’t stress about it. You have, like, two months until the end of the semester, you’re gonna bring your grade up.”

“Oh, no, I have a high A in the class,” David says nonchalantly as he reaches up to grab a bottle from on top of the fridge-- tequila. Oh. David was in one of those moods. “It’s just-- He has the audacity to give me an 86, yet he gives Morris fucking Delancey a 98? There’s no way his paper was better than mine! I just--”

“Davey, I love ya, man, and I feel for ya, but if you get any more pissed you’re gonna break the bottle and you’re gonna owe me, like, $40. That’s my good tequila.”

“Get the shot glasses, Kelly.”

“On it.”

Jack had a painting he could have been doing. Not classwork, he was pretty much caught up with everything so far, but he had a commission that needed to be sent off by the end of the week and he was still in the sketching phase. But, really, what was the point of working on a commission when he could get drunk with his best friend?

After all of these years, it was still weird to call David a ‘friend.’ They had met in the 8th grade, when Jack was adopted by Medda, who happened to teach drama at the school David attended. On the first day, David had told Jack to shut up in their science class, and the two had been inseparable ever since. They had been 13 when they met.

Now, they were both nearing 23, living in an apartment together, both in their last year of college.

And Jack still hadn’t told David that he was completely, totally, irrevocably in love with him.

Jack brought the shot glasses to the living room, while David brought the bottle and a container of orange juice to chase it. They both sat on the couch for the next thirty minutes, ranting about their days and the horrible people they dealt with  in town or at work or in class or wherever they had over the course of that week.

Thirty minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned into two. By that time, the sun was setting, casting a glow straight into the window of the apartment. Jack tilted his head and looked over at David with a chuckle at something he had said, but all laughter was lost as he caught David’s gaze.

God, those blue eyes made him weak. And with the way that the light was directly on them… Jack can’t take the silence.

He turns his body to face David, leaning his head against the back of the couch as his arms cross over his torso. “You ever been in love, Davey?” He asks with that signature Kelly grin. There’s no doubt in his mind that he looks like an idiot. Big smile, scrunched-up nose, squinty eyes- he had been told by plenty of girls that that look was something out of a romcom, and God, he had never wanted that to be truer than right now.

The question seemed to sober David up a little bit. He gulpes and glances away, cheeks flushed- though Jack can’t tell if he’s blushing, or if it’s the alcohol. “I-... Jackie, c’mon. You’ve known me for ten years, you would know--”

“Ah, ah, ah, I think you have a bunch of shit you ain’t tellin’ me,” Jack says with a smirk, though his eyes soften up a bit. All he wants is for David to say yes. If David tells him, then Jack will be able to move on. If David is in love with someone else, then Jack can finally muster up the courage to finally stop telling himself he has a chance. “What about that boy you was with last year? What was his name? Lance?”

“Luke,” David corrects him with a grimace, “And no. I didn’t love him. I… I figured out a few months into it that I… loved someone else,” He admits with a shrug, then scratches the back of his neck. “...Love. Present tense. I love someone else.”

What a kick in the teeth.

Jack sits up a little straighter, then raises a brow. “...Damn, you must’a had feelings for this fella for a while. It’s been, what, near a year since you and Luke broke it off?”

“I’ve liked this guy way longer than I’ve even known Luke,” David says simply, shooting Jack a smile that made his stomach flip.

“What’s he like?”

“Well,” David thinks for a moment, then grins. “He’s really sweet. Stupid, but in a good way,” He chuckles, and Jack can’t help but let out a little laugh as well. “He’s been through a lot, but he’s the most caring guy I’ve ever met. He’d give the shirt off his back for any one of his friends, and trust me, he has a lot.”

“Lots’a friends? Is he a frat guy?”

“Oh, hell no. Far from it. He’s just… really charismatic. He’s… He’s great,” David says with a sad grin, avoiding Jack’s gaze as he takes a slow sip of tequila straight from the bottle.

Something about the way that David is acting has Jack on edge. He seems so close to saying something, but Jack has no idea what it is. “...Tell me more. Does he go here?”

“Mhm. He’s an art student,” David admits nonchalantly, and Jack’s heart feels like it rips in two. An art student… No. There’s no way David is talking about him, but the fact that he’s into another art student that isn’t Jack makes him regret ever asking in the first place. “He’s good, too. Really good. He likes music, too, and he’s a great singer, even if he doesn’t think so. He’s a horrible driver, but he can navigate the subway system in his sleep. He… He’s a pretty good--...”

David hesitates. Jack watches.

The silence between them is so heavy that Jack feels like he’s being crushed. “...David?”

David takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes. “He’s a pretty good roommate, too. Even if he cares more about a $40 bottle of tequila than he cares about me.”

Jack is silent for a few long moments. He’s frozen in place, trying desperately to connect the dots, and deep down he knows what David is saying, but he can’t do this and he doesn’t want to assume and-- “Davey, what- what are you sayin’?”

David turns to face him, a sad smile on his face. The look makes Jack’s breath catch in his throat. “I love you. Jack Kelly, I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” Jack responds instantly, his eyes widening just slightly. “No, because- because I-- Fuck, I’ve loved you for so long, but you- you don’t love me. Is this real? Are you-- Are you real?”

The smile that breaks out onto David’s face stuns Jack into silence. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids,” David whispers, before letting out a laugh. “I just-- Jack, how could I not love you? You’re so--”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to say that,” Jack cut in, letting out a giddy giggle. “I-- Davey, oh my Good, you’re so fuckin’ perfect. You’re smart, and nice, and stubborn as a mule in the best way possible, and I- I ain’t good with words, you know that, but you--... All of my best paintings, all of my best sketches, are all because you were my muse. You were… Perfect. You’ve always been perfect… David?”

“Yeah, Jack?”

“Kiss me.”

The feeling of David dragging him into his lap would forever be one of the best feelings Jack had ever experienced. He straddles David’s thighs, wraps his arms around David’s neck, and melts as soon as David pulls him into the best kiss he had ever had.

David’s hand is in his hair. Caressing him. Grounding him.

They kiss for what feels like hours, but Jack eventually pulls back for breath, forehead gently pressed against David’s.

Something tells him they should’ve done this a long time ago, but at least they had the rest of forever.

[wellhellsbelles]

i’ll be your violent overnight rush

another chapter to my riarkle new girl au! this is them first getting together for real, so sort of a backtrack from the last couple of chapters. 

enjoy!

ao3 link found here.

//

So they’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. They’re just two friends who happen to live in the same apartment together, have made out once, are certainly attracted to each other, but never admitted to each other that they like one another. And maybe . . .

Maybe it’s supposed to stay like that.

Maybe it was a fluke that they kissed and Riley saw galaxies while Farkle’s hand rested on her waist, pulling her closer to him like there was nothing stopping them.

But part of her wishes—no, hopes—that it wasn’t a fluke, because she likes Farkle. She really does. He’s incredibly smart and makes her laugh and feel safe—and who cares if she’s wondered to herself what it’d look like if they had kids!

The point is, she kind of really, really likes Farkle, and he doesn’t seem to want to do anything about it.

It all sucks.

“Listen, the only thing I can make for you all is a margarita, so that’s what you’re all getting tonight,” Maya says, setting down several glasses in front of their table along with a margarita pitcher to share. She had only just begun bartending and was struggling very much so, but she did know how to make kickass margaritas, so Riley couldn’t complain.

“All I asked for was whiskey. Whiskey,” Zay complains. Maya gives him a pseudo-pout.

“Oh, I’m sowwy. Did wittle Zay not appweciate what his fwiend got him for fwee?” she says mockingly.

“Free, you say? Then I’m sold. Carry about your business,” he waves her on, grabbing the pitcher from the middle of the table as she leaves to pour himself a glass.

Riley was there with the guys for their Friday night drinks at Adam’s, a bar they had frequented for a very long time. She didn’t mind going out with them for drinks, especially since it was a Friday and she didn’t have to teach the next morning.

She did, however, mind that she was pressed against Farkle in the middle of the booth, Zay and Lucas their bookends keeping them in place. Riley was trying hard to ignore the electricity she felt every time he brushed up against her, was trying to ignore the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down that made her just want to run her tongue up the length of his neck.

A freaking arduous task, yes. She has it really bad, fuck yes.

On top of that, he just had to wear those black jeans with the denim button-up that looked amazing on him.

God, she should just bed him and get it over with! Maybe that would clear the air between them. Or not. Who’s to say.

“Alright, scooch, Zay. I’ve gotta talk to Maya,” Riley nudges Zay. He groans, sliding out of the booth and gesturing for her to get out. She does so, muttering, “Watch my purse!” before stalking off to find her best friend.

When she finds Maya, she’s struggling to mix a drink, and Riley can only watch as she fails miserably.

“Maya, are you sure you really want to bartend?” Riley asks, sitting at the barstool in front of Maya.

“Yes,” Maya grits her teeth, obviously frustrated with the drink. “Why are there a billion various types of drinks? Can’t people just order a beer and get it over with?”

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” Maya ceases wrestling with the drink to listen to Riley.

“Yeah, hon. Shoot.”

“So say there’s this . . . guy,” Riley begins, and Maya quickly cuts her off.

“It’s Farkle.”

“What?! Pfffft, nooooo,” Riley scoffs, and Maya raises a brow at her.

“Riley, I see the way you look at him. Also, no one starts off a normal conversation with, “So say there’s this . . . guy.” You already make it sound like an abnormal situation.”

“Damnit,” Riley curses. “That’s not the point. The point is, I think I really like him and we’ve already kissed once—”

“Whoa whoa whoa. Wait. Did you just tell me the two of you have kissed? And you didn’t think to let your best friend know of this fact like, the second it happened?!”

“Sorry! It was just a . . . weird . . . situation. Like we’ve been scooting around each other awkwardly all week in the apartment kind of weird. And you’ve been busy trying to figure out how to be a bartender.” Maya sighs.

“Fair. But next time you better tell me what happens!” Riley smiles at her, resting her chin in her hand.

“So, are you going to give me advice?”

“Advice on what?”

“Farkle!” Riley exclaims, frustrated with her best friend. Maya shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe just drink and see where the night goes. He’s been casting glances this way the whole time you’ve been here, anyway, so you’ll probably be doing stuff in the bathroom stall by the end of the night.”

“Maya.”

“Riley, trust me. He may not say it in his words, but he does say it in his actions. Besides, why are you rushing it? Why don’t you just let whatever happens happen and then just figure it out along the way? You’ve always been too desperate to push things forward in a relationship, so why not take it slow instead?” Riley groans inwardly to herself.

She’s right, damnit.

“Fine. But if this doesn’t go well I’m blaming you!” she shouts as she leaves the bar, heading back to the guys’ table. When she returns, she knocks her foot against the wood of the booth, indicating to Zay that he needs to get out.

“What did the two of you talk about?” Lucas asks as she slides back in next to Farkle, swallowing hard.

“Oh, Maya just wanted to talk to me about whether or not the bartending thing was a good idea,” Riley answers.

“No,” the guys all resound, and she shoots them a pointed look.

“She was asking me, not you guys. And she’d like to try this out, so you guys better shut your traps or else,” Riley threatens them. Zay whistles.

“You know, you’re a little hot when you act vicious.”

“Oh yeah? Do you guys think that?” she turns to Lucas and Farkle, grinning. Lucas nods his head while Farkle shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“Not gonna lie, he’s right,” Lucas agrees. Riley looks at Farkle.

“And what do you think, Farkle?” He’s making a point of not returning her gaze, and Riley loves it.

“You know, it’s like, it’s just a . . . you know. You know what it’s like,” he sputters, gesticulating wildly. Riley snorts and rolls her eyes, reaching across the table to pour herself a glass of margarita. As she takes a sip, she thanks Maya silently for making her margaritas so strong.

She’s gonna need it to get through this night.

 //

 After finishing their second pitcher of margaritas together, Zay demands they all go to the club nearby. Riley figures it’s probably because Vanessa texted him about it, but she can’t really complain too much. Her outfit is club appropriate (as Maya informed her after she ran up to her, frantic about the prospect of going to a club)—a red velvet top, black skater skirt, and black mule heels. Riley doesn’t intend on being there a very long time, though. Clubs aren’t her scene as far as she’s concerned, and she’s not going to sit around and pretend like they are.

She will admit, she does want to dance for a bit, though. And maybe if she can get a certain someone to dance with her, then perhaps it won’t be all for naught.

Unfortunately for her, as soon as the four of them are inside, the guys maneuver right out of her sight, and Riley feels like she wants to hit them upside their stupid heads. Instead, she distracts herself by going to the bar for a drink.

She orders a tequila sunrise, sipping on it as soon as its delivered to her and watching as people gyrate on the dancefloor. Riley’s none too keen on dirty dancing, the only kind she likes being the movie, but she likes the atmosphere. It makes her feel adult, like she’s finally getting to experience what people her age experiences every day.

Before she can order a second drink, she spots Farkle being a wallflower on the other side of the room, deciding that he’s: a.) being ridiculous, and b.) definitely going to dance with her. It’s probably the alcohol in her system making her brave, but she doesn’t give a damn. She strides up to him quickly, taking him by the hand before he has a chance to argue and leading him to the dance floor. Riley can feel him tense up the whole way over, but she chooses to ignore it for the sake of what she wants.

And for now, what she wants is to dance.

“Dance with me, Farkle!” she yells over the music, swaying her hips to the beat.

“Okay?” he shouts back, giving his best attempt at dancing but failing miserably. Riley laughs, enjoying just being there with him, but Farkle must think she’s laughing at him because he stops right away, his expression panicked as he turns to disappear. Riley elects to follow him, knowing fully that if this were any other time she probably would’ve been too nervous to do so.

Thankfully, she’s able to follow him as he ducks into the hall and inside a nearby closet, startling him as she walks in, closing the door behind them. She makes sure to lock it for privacy, shifting towards him after.

“Farkle, are you alright?” she asks.

“Dancing is not my thing,” he breathes. Riley offers him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s okay. I hope you know I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just happy to be with you,” she explains, hitching her breath after the last comment when she realizes what she’s said. Riley settles a second later when she notices it was the right thing to say, because Farkle’s grinning softly back at her, and suddenly it’s just the two of them and nothing else.

“Riley, we should probably talk about that other night,” he begins.

“Yeah, we probably should.”

She waits for him to say something, anything. She holds her breath as the silence washes over them, thinking to herself that this is it, this is the moment where he takes back the kiss and calls it a mistake. But then he opens his mouth, and . . .

And he doesn’t.

“I don’t take back that kiss. I know it made things weird, but I just . . . I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and you, and I just really like you a lot, Riley. More than I thought I could ever like a person,” he admits, inching closer to her. Riley’s legs begin pulling her towards him then, too, as if they were both magnets.

“Me too, Farkle. I like you a lot, too,” she whispers back, and those must be the magic words, because Farkle’s drawing her against his chest as he kisses her deeply, his fingers threading through her hair gently. Riley’s heart explodes within her, her brain a billion circuits fizzling all at once.

She’s embarrassingly excited by his touch, enough to reach out to push him up against the wall, but he reciprocates with equal excitement, hooking his hands underneath her knees and pulling her up. He shifts them around so that she’s the one pressed up against the wall, nipping at her jawline after. A small mewl escapes past Riley’s lips, and Farkle swallows hard in response.

Riley resolves to put this experience in her “top ten sexiest moments” memory bank.

They’re a mess of unresolved sexual tension in that closet. Riley’s been pretty vanilla her whole life, but her body is on fire and she’s been waiting for this moment for a long while, so she doesn’t really much care how far they go. All she wants is Farkle, Farkle, Farkle, and the inevitable meeting of his skin against hers.

Unfortunately for the two of them, their intimate exchange is cut short by a knocking on the door, followed by Farkle accidentally dropping her legs and knocking his forehead into hers.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters as the two of them jump apart, trying desperately to fix themselves up in a way that doesn’t appear incriminating (but totally will anyway.) Riley glances up at him wide-eyed and Farkle offers her a similar expression before unlocking the door and opening it.

“Alright, c’mon you two. Outta the closet,” the man, obviously a janitor of sorts, points behind him. Although Farkle and Riley are unbelievably embarrassed, the man couldn’t care less, as if this sort of thing had happened a bunch of times before (and probably has.) The two of them skitter out, not stopping until they’re tucked away in a corner close to the door, about as private as they’ll get in a club.

“Sorry,” Farkle says sheepishly, his face red as a beet. Riley smiles at him softly, tilting her head.

“Sorry for what? It was embarrassing, sure, but I don’t regret it.” Farkle beams at her after that, causing Riley’s heart to skip a beat as he reaches out with his hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“Wanna go back to the apartment? I think we’ve been out enough for the night,” he tells her. Riley nods, squeezing his hand.

“I’d love to.”

[wineanddinosaur]

EOD Drinks with Dan Aykroyd

In this episode of “End Of Day Drinks,” VinePair’s editorial team is joined by Dan Aykroyd, comedian, actor, and owner of Crystal Head Vodka. Listeners may know Aykroyd from his award-winning films such as “Ghostbusters,” “The Blues Brothers,” and “Trading Places.” He was also one of the original cast members of “Saturday Night Live.” Apart from these ventures, Dan Aykroyd has also made a lot of noise in the beverage alcohol industry, most notably with his creation of Crystal Head Vodka.

Listeners will get a glimpse into Aykroyd’s pivot from Hollywood stardom to beverage alcohol entrepreneurship — starting with a tequila tasting that he calls a “revelation.” Aykroyd also explains Crystal Head Vodka’s forward-thinking style, starting with his decision to remove all additives from the product. Finally, listeners will learn about the mythos of the crystal head and why Aykroyd chose it as the shape of the bottle.

Tune in to learn more about Aykroyd and his leading premium vodka brand.

Listen online

Listen on Apple Podcasts

Listen on Spotify

Or check out the conversation here

Tim McKirdy: Hey, everybody, this is Tim McKirdy, staff writer at VinePair, and welcome to the “EOD Drinks” podcast. Joining us for today’s episode, we have an award-winning actor, producer, comedian, and owner of Crystal Head Vodka, among other boozy ventures: Dan Aykroyd. Welcome to the show.

Dan Aykroyd: Oh, good. Good to be on. Good to be with your listeners and with all of you today.

T: Thanks so much for joining us. As always, I’m pleased to be joined by some colleagues from the editorial team at VinePair. Today, we have Joanna Sciarrino, Cat Wolinski, Katie Brown, and Keith Beavers. Hey, everybody.

All: Hello!

D: Wow, what a panel. I wonder what you have in front of you right there. I’ve got a mini-Head going. But I just love that your thing is just educating people about beverage alcohol brands, and exciting new breakthroughs for the consumer. You guys make it accessible. I was in the wine business for a while, and I got into it through Niagara. That was 12 years ago, and the grapes were very young. The Niagara grapes. Now, they’re approaching those 60, 70 years old. There are some really incredible Niagara reds coming out of that region. Not as fruity as when I was into it. People come to me and they say, “I’m going out to a restaurant. I want to order red wine.” Well, I say “anything that’s got a saint in it.” St.-Julien. I say anything that has an x. Bordeaux, Margaux, you just can’t go wrong. We see these years being slammed all the time. This year was bad or that year is bad. I don’t know, man. I think that you can drink a Bordeaux right now that’s not even 10 years old from Brane-Cantenac Margaux or one of these great red wines from France. If you let them go too long, they get bad, a lot of them. I drink them if they’re eight, nine, 10 years old. I don’t save them anymore. I drink the nice reds coming out of France. Then, Washington State, wow. The Walla Walla reds, and the Cabernets.

T: Some great wine up there.

D: It’s exciting. I learn as I go and whatever my taste or palate that I had left after years of whatever, maybe other substances. When I order a Walla Walla or a Columbia Valley Wine, I’m always pleased. The prices are good on those in restaurants. Well, if restaurants will continue to exist.

T: I’m very happy you are able to share your drinking advice or red wine-buying advice with our listeners, Dan. Anything with a saint or an x, that definitely beats the second on the list.

D: There are all kinds of incredible restaurants and vintners in the world now that are in partnership. I love Diamond Creek out of California. Al Brounstein was the founder. His wife, Boots, I think took it over if she’s still with us alongside his kids. Very limited production, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. Keith, you’re the wine guy, right?

T: Keith is the wine guy.

D: Well, you’ve heard of Diamond Creek?

Keith Beavers: Yes, and I love that you’re talking about Niagara. Oh, my gosh, the Pinot Noir coming out of there is incredible. It’s an amazing place.

D: It was a little spotty when I was starting out, but I did it because I wanted to help Ontario’s industry. I wanted to lend my name to Ontario’s industry. The distributor that I brought Patrón into Canada for was a wine company. I said, “Well, let’s swing in and try to make some neat wines.” We actually did for a while. Now I’ve let that lapse because they’re focusing on other things, but I’d like to revive it. I know exactly the type of wine I would like to put a label on. DeLoach Vineyards built me an American wine that was wonderful. It had Grenache in it, peppery flavors, and wow, it was fine. And of course, that’s Jean-Charles Boisset who many of you met. He and I partnered, but I guess the agency wasn’t right. There weren’t enough salespeople out there to get it going, but wow, we put up some quality white Chardonnay and a beautiful Cabernet there from DeLoach.

K: Spicy Grenache, you’re talking to my heart right now.

D: With a burger! I order the wine first and then I complement the wine with the food. Now, people may have it the other way sometimes. You order the food and then ask what wine would be good with it. Now I say, “What food would go well with this wine?” That’s how I started along with many who drink moderately and enjoy wine.

T: More sound wine-buying advice there from Dan Aykroyd. These are all things that I love to get into, especially the wine side. I wonder if I can take us on a quick detour before that, though, Dan. I was really hoping we could start out by looking at Crystal Head. You launched Crystal Head over a decade ago now. That’s a time when very few of your Hollywood colleagues were getting into the booze industry. You also went down the vodka road instead of tequila, but earlier you alluded to the fact that you have some business interest with Patrón and tequila. I’d love to hear about that and how you got your start in booze alongside Hollywood?

D: Well, you know, it just comes from a simple musing on an afternoon in the summer, in August, down at the dock by the lake. Canadians love their cottages. Down to the dock by the lake, I’m looking at the two dominant brands of tequila sold in Canada at that time. I’m looking at my Margarita jar with my mix and going, “Oh boy, I wish I had something better to work with.” I recall a time in L.A. with John Paul Dejoria, the great entrepreneur who founded Paul Mitchell Hair Systems and also the Patrón Spirits Company, and we were drinking at the House of Blues. He was one of our first investors. He said, “Would you like to try this Patrón tequila?” I said, “Well, I don’t really have too much of a good record with tequila.” It’s the technicolor mule in the back of a yard in Tijuana. That’s my association with it at that time. Then, he said, “no, no, this is different. This is sipping tequila, it’s magnificent.” He poured me a warm shot of the Patrón Silver. I sniffed it and I thought, “Whoa, earth. Nice.” Then, I sipped it, and it was a revelation to me. It was tequila as I’d never seen it before, a premium tequila. I never knew, living in Canada, that such a thing was possible. We only had two brands to work with. I recalled back on that summer’s day and said “Wow, what if I could get Patrón up in Canada to make a better Margarita here for this party on the dock?” The next time I saw J.P., I said, “I really would like to bring Patrón into the little village government liquor store up here. How can I do it?” He said, “Well, Dan, you’d have to bring it to the whole country.” We both agreed to do it. In partnership, J.P., myself, and David Brown, another ex-mailman. We brought Patrón to Canada 12 years ago and it is now one of the dominant luxury brands in the country. Canadians can now enjoy what Americans did all along with fine tequila. We made it a great success right up to the point where Bacardi bought it. I’m no longer involved in it, but I’ll always be a friend to Patrón because of its quality and that silver, smoky, lovely flavor. That’s really how I got into booze, by wanting something better. That led me to research, exploring, and improving another category. That was the vodka category. I opened a lot of vodkas, and they smelled like Chanel No. 10. Or they didn’t have a taste or a flavor. Or they were harsh and had an over-viscosity. I thought, what’s going on here? Why? Why can’t we get an old-fashioned, pure, clean-water vodka? Well, I came to find out that a lot of glycerol is added. Glycerol is added to a lot of alcoholic products, but not enough to hurt or kill you. Laminine is added to vodka to disguise the alcohol smell and taste to mask it. Then, they added sugar to a lot of the brands. I thought, well, what if we eliminated all of these fusel oils? Fusel oils are the industry name for these additives. German fusel. We eliminated the glycerol in the Crystal Head corn mash. We eliminated the laminine in the Crystal Head corn mash. We eliminated the sugar in the Crystal Head corn mash. You don’t need any more sugar when you’ve got ethyl alcohol corn, C2H5O6 sugars. Laminine has a cousin as a caustic cleanser. You could take pure laminine and cut through mechanics’ grease with it. Then, glycerol is a cousin to ethylene glycol, which cooled the spitfires in World War II. It’s antifreeze. I thought they didn’t put enough to kill you. It’s been done for years, it’s industry standard. Let’s change the industry. Let’s come up with a pure spirit. Let’s not put the additives in. Let’s not add these things. Right out of the gate, the tastes were great, we went to the purest water source in North America, Newfoundland, Canada. We source the water there because you see original water from the aquifer of the Wisconsin glacier that sat 800 feet above us 16,000 years ago. There was ice all over this part of the world. Then, that just melted into the porous rock into the province of Newfoundland. It sits 900 feet above the ocean, away from the eerie plume of pollution. That water has never been touched by acid rain. It sits in an aquifer in these lakes underneath the province of Newfoundland. There is a still right above it, and it’s owned by the provincial government. Not only does Crystal Head have no additives in it but also has the purest water in the world right from the aquifer that was originally the ice over our planet at that time. It’s also manufactured by the province of Newfoundland Labrador Liquor Distillery Corporation. It’s a government manufacturer. With Baltic vodkas, you go into those stills, and it’s a little rough. However, the government manufacturer guarantees us a policing of quality that’s quite outstanding. Today, Crystal Head has won numerous awards for taste, and our vodkas are in about 80 countries. I’m proud to go around the world and say it’s a Canadian product, from a country that is tolerant. We have our pride bottle. We celebrate the LGBTQ+ community frequently. We had the same-gender preference marriage long ago in Canada. We are a Canadian company, and we espouse Canadian values, quality, and dependability for the consumer. The best water with the best manufacturer. The corn comes from Chatham, Ontario, from same-system corn farming. Now, no one in the world works as hard as I do to make this vodka. We grab the corn, take it to the same farming system, with the peaches and cream corn, the big, fat kernels there. We harvest them. They go into the mash truck. The truck then drives a fifth of the way across Canada to a nine-hour ferry ride to Newfoundland, where we mix it with the water in the distillery. Then it goes out into containers, and into the world from there. We’re going to great trouble to make it.

T: I’m glad that you went to some length there to share the process with us. You also mentioned accolades. Crystal Head is a vodka that we’ve long enjoyed at VinePair. You can check it in the reviews, in the roundups. What I always say to people as well is that you have this amazing-looking bottle, but don’t look past what’s inside it as well. Can you also tell us about the bottle? Obviously, it is very striking and definitely sets you apart on the liquor shelf.

D: Well, it does. Of course, being that we wanted to have a business that sustains, we had to put a quality fluid in it. One that people will enjoy and look past the bottle to drink it. Many bottles are still around the world. I have 200 of them in my barn here in Canada because of the parties I’ve had over the years. I don’t throw them away. We wanted to sell the idea of enlightened drinking and to have a drink that doesn’t have additives, which is very popular with bar chefs. Crystal Head is the virgin slate, it’s a blank canvas in which to do mixes. As you know. You guys are mixologists, you know bar chefs, and you know what is going into vodka. We’ve got one that is high-quality with no additives and pure. We wanted to sell the idea and the mythos of purity. With the myth of the crystal heads, we wanted to utilize that myth because they were enlightening the tribes that own them. The Anasazi, the Navajo, the Aztec, and the Mayans all purportedly had these star children’s heads or crystal heads that were used as scrying devices. There was a positive aspect and a positive myth. A myth of purity and power to these heads owned by these various aboriginal indigenous tribal bands around the planet — in legend anyway. I thought that this is the perfect vessel to put our stripped-down, zero-additives, pure fluid in. Let’s take the mythos of purity and put it into the bottle. Now, you’ve got an award-winning fluid with no junk in it. The crystal heads, you saw the “Indiana Jones” movie, they were ascribed to extraterrestrial origin. The Navajo said they’re from the star children. In the movie, they certainly take advantage of that myth of the heads being from another planet. There were 13 of them in the world that were known, and five out of the eight are in the hands of mankind, and five are missing. Three of them are in museums, one at the V&A in London and two in the Smithsonian. One was found in the Yucatan; that’s the most popular and famous one, the Mitchell Hedges skull. Mitchell Hedges was the granddaughter of an explorer. They were in Central America and found this head wrapped in an oilcloth. She reached into a hole in a cave and found it. It had a detachable jaw. It was beautiful. It had so-called healing powers. People who would see it, the velvet cape would come off it, and you’d get an immediate feeling of wellbeing and warmth in the belly just by looking at it. It was very beautiful to look at. You can get pictures of it. The Mitchell Hedges skull. People can look it up on any search engine and dig up a picture of it. It sat here in Ontario for a long time. There is one in Mexico City with a cross stuck right on the top of it. Were they ancient or were they made by man? Either way, they are beautiful to look at. For my purposes, it was the perfect sales legend to sell our quality story by tying into the mythos of purity that the skulls had in legend. It worked well for us.

Cat Wolinski: Dan, this is Cat. I am following up on your story about the myth of purity and alcohol. I’m curious to hear your thoughts on the brands that are marketing themselves as better-for-you, “healthy” beer, spirits, wine, etc.

D: I think organic is a movement that is not doing too much harm to the consumer. I think we’re an organic product. It’s up to the consumer to be discriminating and to decide whether something is better for them or not. Is it better to have a drink that has 100 calories? With Crystal Head, we have 65 calories. We don’t say we’re better for your health in our marketing, but I think that you have to trust the consumer to believe stories or not. Certainly, we say we’re pure, and you can run our product on a spectrograph. It will run completely flat. There are no impurities in it because of our filtration system. If you want a vodka that doesn’t have a cousin to antifreeze it in or a caustic cleanser, then maybe it is better for you to have vodka, like Crystal Head, that doesn’t have that stuff. Look at all the stuff you’re adding today to vodka and mixes. I don’t know Pernod, vermouth, Fernet-Branca, emulsified sugars, Bloody Caesars. Our bar chefs around the world love our Aurora bottle. That’s the one with the mirror finish. That’s a wheat vodka that comes out of Yorkshire, England. Very soft, sunset wheat. A little more spice to it than the corn. The corn’s notes are sweet vanilla, dry and crisp. And the other one is star anise and peppercorn. Then we have our new expression, which is quite exciting because the whole legend, as you’ve taken me through here today of where we got started with my partners and myself, is the tequila. We now build a vodka that is vodka-style distillation, but we use the Blue Weber agave. This is in the black head, the Onyx. This is taking a vodka treatment of distillation and filtration, then making it from the Blue Weber agave mash. It is a big hit because of its floral, earthy, long finish when you’re tasting it. It’s like nothing I’ve ever had. It’s almost like a white whiskey with tequila.

T: Can you try to describe that? Say you were giving someone the elevator pitch. It’s tequila made in the vodka way, but how would you describe it?

D: I would say it’s like a beautiful, white whiskey. If you were to close your eyes, is it brown or white? You wouldn’t know but you get the taste of tequila. You would think this tastes like tequila, but it’s not as overpowering as some tequilas can be. There’s a softness to it.

T: I believe it serves as an intro to tequila. The way that I’ve described it to people is maybe you didn’t have a good experience with tequila before. A lot of people didn’t in college. People may want to take a little step before you dive into that category again. Maybe you should try this. Yet, I definitely think it stands on its own as a unique product. It’s super interesting.

D: It crosses vodka and tequila grounds a bit. There are some notes that have been written about white pepper, citrus. I mean, you can have notes on anything like a hint of baby diaper with a burnt tire. Notes can get into some heavy pretensions when you get to some of the critics. However, I would say earthy. It’s just something that’s never been done, and people are loving it. It’s never been done to take Blue Weber agave and then adjust the temperature and distillation so you can get a vodka-style treatment on it.

Katie Brown: So that leads into my question. I’ve been curious, with that specific spirit, do you drink it as if it’s a tequila? Would you put it in a Margarita? Or do you use it for classic vodka cocktails, like a Martini? What’s your favorite way to drink it?

D: You can drink it as a traditional vodka. You can drink it as a tequila. Either way, it crosses both lines there and serves in a Margarita beautifully. Of course, as a Martini, there’s no taste like it, if it’s cold and shaken with a lemon peel.

T: That’s your preferred serve on the Martini?

D: I like it shaken. I like to hear a steward on the Long Island Rail Road with white gloves in the bar car, shaking, shaking, shaking as the tracks click, click, click by. Then, I’m coming to my seat as I’ve got my Wall Street Journal folded into a single column. I can get a drink from that steward, handed to me in a tumbler, a vodka Martini, shaken with ice, with lime or olives, maybe a hint of white vermouth, throw it out. That’s the 1954 Long Island Rail Road  Bar Car Martini. In 1954, you’re a Madison Avenue executive going in from New Rochelle into the city. You sit there with your Wall Street Journal folded into a single column at 10:30 in the morning. Get a Martini. That’s the dream way to have a Martini. I like a rinse of fine white vermouth, throw the rinse out and shake it, put it up in a Martini glass with ice chips and a lemon peel or olives. I do like the vodka that way. Now, the other way I like the Aurora, the Onyx, or the Original, is to put it in a tumbler with ice and pour about two and a half, three ounces, and then I take a freshly squeezed jug of clementine or fine citrus. I pour that orange juice in very slowly. It’s important to do this, because somehow it makes a difference. Treat it as if you’re cracking the yolk of an egg. You pour it very slow while you watch the yellow emulsify and go out through the vodka, and the color changes. Then, just a quick stir. That’s the Crystal Driver. That’s the best Screwdriver I’ve ever had.

However, I love to have people experiment. I love going and visiting bars. We sold gallons of our Crystal Heads there in Vegas with a white Cosmo at a few of the casinos. It’s basically white cranberry juice with egg white. I forgot what casino it was, but they had some great formulations there. We also got a bar in the Boystown district of Chicago that has a machine downstairs. They put the bottles in, and it serves out a punch on Sunday. They have these massive Sunday brunches in Boystown where you can go get food and drink and dance and watch old movies and karaoke. It’s the fun-est thing. One of the clubs there has this dispenser downstairs, and there’s basically a tap where you can get Crystal Head punch. I love that application. They are mixing a fruit punch, like a Hawaiian Punch type of treatment.

K: That sounds amazing. I want to go there now.

T: I’m enjoying the way that you’re describing making cocktails to us. I’m wondering whether you could ever do an audio cocktail recipe book.

D: If you get on the World Wide Web, crystalhead.com, we’ve got our professional bar chef. We were playing around with some recipes there, you can go to our cocktail section. We actually have professionals doing it, and I like to watch and drink. You can get on there and see what we’re doing with the recipes that we’ve gotten from around the world. We have a Startender program worldwide. Bar chefs from around the world submit recipes to us, we select them and award prizes sometimes where it’s legal. Our Startender program is very popular. The gateway to the consumer for any beverage alcohol is the bar chef on the front line. They love talking about the Crystal Head. It’s the only one you can throw up in the air or put on your shoulder and do voices with. It’s fun and easy. It’s a safe product. The seal, of course, is very safe. It’s just a high-quality, premium Canadian entry into the industry that I’m happy to say people worldwide are loving.

T: That is a nice segue because you’ve mentioned a couple of pretty good drinking cities already on the pod. I wanted to get your opinion when we’re all able to travel again, what is the best city in the world to go to for a drink and for cocktails?

D: London, England. Hands down.

K: Home of the Vesper.

D: London has molecular bar chefs there. They’re really into construction and they love the Head because of the no additives. One of our largest markets is the City of London. I would say next, you want to be looking at Sydney, Australia.

T: I hear that, too. And there’s a lot of crossover between Sydney and London. I used to work as a chef for many years in London, and we got a ton of chefs from Sydney. I want to say that London made Sydney good. That’s what I’m getting at here.

D: In Melbourne, there’s a famous cocktail bar down in an alley there. Melbourne, Australia, is also a great city for bar chefs and recipes. Toronto, Ontario. Can’t ignore that place where great people are doing stuff there.

T: You’re missing New York! Dan, you’re speaking to a couple of people based in New York, and you’re not bringing up the best drinking city in the world.

D: New York needs a little more sophistication. They need to embrace the Crystal Head, the no-additive story a little more before I talk about New York.

T: Well, sometimes bartenders do occasionally, and I don’t want comments at this, but move away from vodka. I don’t think that’s always fair.

D: Here’s my argument there, and I know exactly what you’re talking about. It’s the notion of “Oh, everybody has vodka. Brown spirits are where we’ve got to focus or the rums, gins of the world.” Now, there’s some great gins, don’t get me wrong. There are great rums and whiskeys but every bar of quality, if you’re going to be serving your customer, why not serve a premium vodka? Every bar needs vodka. You need it on the back shelf. Why not have the Head on your back shelf? It draws attention to your bar, it’s a beautiful art piece, and provides the consumer with a 90-plus point consistent rating. Also with quality, it’s only about $1.32 more a shot if you price it competitively. Now, I say to bar chefs out there who are doing wonderful things with whiskeys, brown spirits, rums, and gins that you need vodka. You’re doing these wonderful things, you’re purveying these quality drinks to your consumer and for the one or two or three or 100 people that want vodka, Crystal Head is your non-additive choice. Put it up there with your premium stock, and it’s only $1.32 a shot more if you price it right.

T: New York City bar chefs, you heard.

D: I have great friends in New York. The W Hotel has been great to us for many years. However, I think there are more people that need to embrace the story. I think I need to blow through there on a tour in the “Headmobile.” We might be cranking it up again because Onyx is growing at a beautiful rate for us and we may get on the wave of that. Yes, it was a Freightliner tractor that is used for hauling race cars around. It was a big cat tractor. It was wonderful on the highway. With that turbo, it was a beautiful sound. I drove it many times. It lit up at night. We had a red infrared choice at night. It was like the Star Trek cruiser there, and it had an apartment on the back. It really moved. You could do about 90 in it because it had nothing in the back and we painted it up like a delivery truck. We had the Crystal Head all over it, and we went all over when we were launching. Even in New York, we need to revive the Head and go out there to educate bar chefs that are missing it. We want to let them know that there is a choice out there for premium vodka that is superior to some of the lesser stock that the consumer is being forced to consume because of a lack of knowledge.

K: I can see that vehicle pulling up to a speakeasy, like, “Oh, well, I guess we know where the speakeasy is now”.

D: Sure, even at a biker bar, a dance club, or anywhere there are people, you’ll find Crystal Head, along with people having a good time. I will also say that anywhere I am with people consuming Crystal Head, there will be treats. I will buy rounds. I put my money where my product is. Now, we don’t go down to the spring break. We’re not pushing it on the youth; we never have. Our consumer range is 25 to 85, with a huge female demographic. A lot of our consumers, both male and female, have double college degrees. They’re very knowledgeable in that way. Many are in the tech professions or design, we found in our surveys. They have the discretionary income to buy something better, an affordable luxury for themselves, which is Crystal Head. We’re not going down to spring break with the Head machines and the pipes with the guzzling youngsters. That is something we’ve never chased. If you happen to be down on spring break and you go to a bar and Crystal Head is there, then I urge it. I don’t think you’ll ever see it being consumed from the Headmobile on a beach on spring break. We’re selling to the people who are halfway through college or finished.

T: What is the name of your fans? I heard you say head machine there. I’m guessing that’s not the name of Crystal Head fans.

D: I would say, the fans are “Head-heads.” If you’re a Head-head, that works. Again, we’ve got people that are discriminating so they want something better and are willing to pay a little more for it. Why not? We have impeccable water sources. In some of the other vodkas, the water has been called into question — specifically, the hygiene of the factory. But we have a beautiful filtration system. We have seven filtrations, micron, and charcoal with an agitated charcoal filtration system. It’s not just being poured through like a charcoal sieve. In the end, we pour through Herkimer Diamonds. There are semi-precious stones that are white double-sided semi-precious crystals, and we pour the final pour through a cone of them, and it just comes out so satiny and lovely. It does add something! I don’t know if you ask the high school chemistry teacher if you were to say, “What does pouring a C2H5O6 over double-sided crystals do for the beverage?” They probably would say, “scientifically, maybe not much,” but we’ve done tests where we pour over the crystals, and people like it poured over the crystals better. The last vestiges of any negative psychic energy on the planet are coming out because some of those crystals turn yellow, and that’s surprising. We have to sometimes turn them over or buy new ones. By the time that fluid hits those crystals, it’s already flat pure. I don’t know what else is being weaned out of there, but we do have the world’s purest vodka. I can definitely say that. I don’t think anybody’s doing it without the oils today. I may be wrong, I don’t know.

K: Well, it sounds amazing. I want to go on a train right now and order a Martini.

D: They outlawed it! The Long Island Rail Road outlawed it. Now, you can still get vodka on Amtrak. Now, on Canadian National Rail, you can get Crystal Head, I believe. We had a program running so that you could get it on the cross-country Canadian railroad. However, the commuting Wall Street advertising man can no longer get a Martini on the Long Island Rail Road as of three or four years ago. A tragedy.

T: Indeed. Dan, I would urge people to go out there and taste the difference for themselves, taste the effect of the crystal. See the proof in the pudding or the proof in the Head. Just wanted to say, thank you so much for spending the time today to talk with us. I feel there are two or three more episodes of stuff we need to get into. But I appreciate your time today, and thanks from all of us! It’s been great chatting.

D: Oh, sure! We’ve got some great beers and wines up in Canada. I encourage you to come when the borders are open. Come up to Niagara to the farm, and we’ll sit and have some T-bones or vegetarian meals. The daughters are all vegetarian. We eat and drink hearty here at the lake in the summer. If you’re passing through, you can get through KLG Public Relations to set this up. By all means to any and all of you, if you’re in the Kingston, Ontario, region, which is a beautiful lakeside town up here where the Cork Regatta is held. It’s a sailing regatta, the home of Royal Military College, which is our equivalent of West Point or Sandringham military school. Queen’s University is here where the brilliant, inspiring genius of our age, Elon Musk, went to school here at Queen’s University for two years. This is a devoted town to his legend, and if you’re up here, come up to the farm. By all means, we entertain heavily and heartily in the summer.

K: Definitely coming up.

Joanna Sciarrino: Maybe you could bring the Head-mobile to our New York office.

D: For sure. That would look good!

K: Going 90 down the Hutch. It’s going to be awesome.

D: Well, thank you, guys. Great to talk to you.

Thanks for listening to this week’s episode of “EOD Drinks.” If you’ve enjoyed this program, please leave us a rating or a review wherever you get your podcasts. It really helps other people discover the show. And tell your friends. We want as many people as possible listening to this amazing program.

And now for the credits. “End of Day Drinks” is recorded live in New York City at VinePair’s headquarters. And it is produced, edited, and engineered by VinePair tastings director, yes, he wears a lot of hats, Keith Beavers. I also want to give a special thanks to VinePair’s co-founder, Josh Malin, to the executive editor Joanna Sciarrino, to our senior editor, Cat Wolinski, senior staff writer Tim McKirdy, and our associate editor Katie Brown. And a special shout-out to Danielle Grinberg, VinePair’s art director who designed the sick logo for this program. The music for “End of Day Drinks” was produced, written, and recorded by Darby Cici. I’m VinePair co-founder Adam Teeter, and we’ll see you next week. Thanks a lot.

The article EOD Drinks with Dan Aykroyd appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/eod-drinks-dan-aykroyd-crystal-head-vodka/

[johnboothus]

EOD Drinks with Dan Aykroyd

In this episode of “End Of Day Drinks,” VinePair’s editorial team is joined by Dan Aykroyd, comedian, actor, and owner of Crystal Head Vodka. Listeners may know Aykroyd from his award-winning films such as “Ghostbusters,” “The Blues Brothers,” and “Trading Places.” He was also one of the original cast members of “Saturday Night Live.” Apart from these ventures, Dan Aykroyd has also made a lot of noise in the beverage alcohol industry, most notably with his creation of Crystal Head Vodka.

Listeners will get a glimpse into Aykroyd’s pivot from Hollywood stardom to beverage alcohol entrepreneurship — starting with a tequila tasting that he calls a “revelation.” Aykroyd also explains Crystal Head Vodka’s forward-thinking style, starting with his decision to remove all additives from the product. Finally, listeners will learn about the mythos of the crystal head and why Aykroyd chose it as the shape of the bottle.

Tune in to learn more about Aykroyd and his leading premium vodka brand.

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Or check out the conversation here

Tim McKirdy: Hey, everybody, this is Tim McKirdy, staff writer at VinePair, and welcome to the “EOD Drinks” podcast. Joining us for today’s episode, we have an award-winning actor, producer, comedian, and owner of Crystal Head Vodka, among other boozy ventures: Dan Aykroyd. Welcome to the show.

Dan Aykroyd: Oh, good. Good to be on. Good to be with your listeners and with all of you today.

T: Thanks so much for joining us. As always, I’m pleased to be joined by some colleagues from the editorial team at VinePair. Today, we have Joanna Sciarrino, Cat Wolinski, Katie Brown, and Keith Beavers. Hey, everybody.

All: Hello!

D: Wow, what a panel. I wonder what you have in front of you right there. I’ve got a mini-Head going. But I just love that your thing is just educating people about beverage alcohol brands, and exciting new breakthroughs for the consumer. You guys make it accessible. I was in the wine business for a while, and I got into it through Niagara. That was 12 years ago, and the grapes were very young. The Niagara grapes. Now, they’re approaching those 60, 70 years old. There are some really incredible Niagara reds coming out of that region. Not as fruity as when I was into it. People come to me and they say, “I’m going out to a restaurant. I want to order red wine.” Well, I say “anything that’s got a saint in it.” St.-Julien. I say anything that has an x. Bordeaux, Margaux, you just can’t go wrong. We see these years being slammed all the time. This year was bad or that year is bad. I don’t know, man. I think that you can drink a Bordeaux right now that’s not even 10 years old from Brane-Cantenac Margaux or one of these great red wines from France. If you let them go too long, they get bad, a lot of them. I drink them if they’re eight, nine, 10 years old. I don’t save them anymore. I drink the nice reds coming out of France. Then, Washington State, wow. The Walla Walla reds, and the Cabernets.

T: Some great wine up there.

D: It’s exciting. I learn as I go and whatever my taste or palate that I had left after years of whatever, maybe other substances. When I order a Walla Walla or a Columbia Valley Wine, I’m always pleased. The prices are good on those in restaurants. Well, if restaurants will continue to exist.

T: I’m very happy you are able to share your drinking advice or red wine-buying advice with our listeners, Dan. Anything with a saint or an x, that definitely beats the second on the list.

D: There are all kinds of incredible restaurants and vintners in the world now that are in partnership. I love Diamond Creek out of California. Al Brounstein was the founder. His wife, Boots, I think took it over if she’s still with us alongside his kids. Very limited production, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. Keith, you’re the wine guy, right?

T: Keith is the wine guy.

D: Well, you’ve heard of Diamond Creek?

Keith Beavers: Yes, and I love that you’re talking about Niagara. Oh, my gosh, the Pinot Noir coming out of there is incredible. It’s an amazing place.

D: It was a little spotty when I was starting out, but I did it because I wanted to help Ontario’s industry. I wanted to lend my name to Ontario’s industry. The distributor that I brought Patrón into Canada for was a wine company. I said, “Well, let’s swing in and try to make some neat wines.” We actually did for a while. Now I’ve let that lapse because they’re focusing on other things, but I’d like to revive it. I know exactly the type of wine I would like to put a label on. DeLoach Vineyards built me an American wine that was wonderful. It had Grenache in it, peppery flavors, and wow, it was fine. And of course, that’s Jean-Charles Boisset who many of you met. He and I partnered, but I guess the agency wasn’t right. There weren’t enough salespeople out there to get it going, but wow, we put up some quality white Chardonnay and a beautiful Cabernet there from DeLoach.

K: Spicy Grenache, you’re talking to my heart right now.

D: With a burger! I order the wine first and then I complement the wine with the food. Now, people may have it the other way sometimes. You order the food and then ask what wine would be good with it. Now I say, “What food would go well with this wine?” That’s how I started along with many who drink moderately and enjoy wine.

T: More sound wine-buying advice there from Dan Aykroyd. These are all things that I love to get into, especially the wine side. I wonder if I can take us on a quick detour before that, though, Dan. I was really hoping we could start out by looking at Crystal Head. You launched Crystal Head over a decade ago now. That’s a time when very few of your Hollywood colleagues were getting into the booze industry. You also went down the vodka road instead of tequila, but earlier you alluded to the fact that you have some business interest with Patrón and tequila. I’d love to hear about that and how you got your start in booze alongside Hollywood?

D: Well, you know, it just comes from a simple musing on an afternoon in the summer, in August, down at the dock by the lake. Canadians love their cottages. Down to the dock by the lake, I’m looking at the two dominant brands of tequila sold in Canada at that time. I’m looking at my Margarita jar with my mix and going, “Oh boy, I wish I had something better to work with.” I recall a time in L.A. with John Paul Dejoria, the great entrepreneur who founded Paul Mitchell Hair Systems and also the Patrón Spirits Company, and we were drinking at the House of Blues. He was one of our first investors. He said, “Would you like to try this Patrón tequila?” I said, “Well, I don’t really have too much of a good record with tequila.” It’s the technicolor mule in the back of a yard in Tijuana. That’s my association with it at that time. Then, he said, “no, no, this is different. This is sipping tequila, it’s magnificent.” He poured me a warm shot of the Patrón Silver. I sniffed it and I thought, “Whoa, earth. Nice.” Then, I sipped it, and it was a revelation to me. It was tequila as I’d never seen it before, a premium tequila. I never knew, living in Canada, that such a thing was possible. We only had two brands to work with. I recalled back on that summer’s day and said “Wow, what if I could get Patrón up in Canada to make a better Margarita here for this party on the dock?” The next time I saw J.P., I said, “I really would like to bring Patrón into the little village government liquor store up here. How can I do it?” He said, “Well, Dan, you’d have to bring it to the whole country.” We both agreed to do it. In partnership, J.P., myself, and David Brown, another ex-mailman. We brought Patrón to Canada 12 years ago and it is now one of the dominant luxury brands in the country. Canadians can now enjoy what Americans did all along with fine tequila. We made it a great success right up to the point where Bacardi bought it. I’m no longer involved in it, but I’ll always be a friend to Patrón because of its quality and that silver, smoky, lovely flavor. That’s really how I got into booze, by wanting something better. That led me to research, exploring, and improving another category. That was the vodka category. I opened a lot of vodkas, and they smelled like Chanel No. 10. Or they didn’t have a taste or a flavor. Or they were harsh and had an over-viscosity. I thought, what’s going on here? Why? Why can’t we get an old-fashioned, pure, clean-water vodka? Well, I came to find out that a lot of glycerol is added. Glycerol is added to a lot of alcoholic products, but not enough to hurt or kill you. Laminine is added to vodka to disguise the alcohol smell and taste to mask it. Then, they added sugar to a lot of the brands. I thought, well, what if we eliminated all of these fusel oils? Fusel oils are the industry name for these additives. German fusel. We eliminated the glycerol in the Crystal Head corn mash. We eliminated the laminine in the Crystal Head corn mash. We eliminated the sugar in the Crystal Head corn mash. You don’t need any more sugar when you’ve got ethyl alcohol corn, C2H5O6 sugars. Laminine has a cousin as a caustic cleanser. You could take pure laminine and cut through mechanics’ grease with it. Then, glycerol is a cousin to ethylene glycol, which cooled the spitfires in World War II. It’s antifreeze. I thought they didn’t put enough to kill you. It’s been done for years, it’s industry standard. Let’s change the industry. Let’s come up with a pure spirit. Let’s not put the additives in. Let’s not add these things. Right out of the gate, the tastes were great, we went to the purest water source in North America, Newfoundland, Canada. We source the water there because you see original water from the aquifer of the Wisconsin glacier that sat 800 feet above us 16,000 years ago. There was ice all over this part of the world. Then, that just melted into the porous rock into the province of Newfoundland. It sits 900 feet above the ocean, away from the eerie plume of pollution. That water has never been touched by acid rain. It sits in an aquifer in these lakes underneath the province of Newfoundland. There is a still right above it, and it’s owned by the provincial government. Not only does Crystal Head have no additives in it but also has the purest water in the world right from the aquifer that was originally the ice over our planet at that time. It’s also manufactured by the province of Newfoundland Labrador Liquor Distillery Corporation. It’s a government manufacturer. With Baltic vodkas, you go into those stills, and it’s a little rough. However, the government manufacturer guarantees us a policing of quality that’s quite outstanding. Today, Crystal Head has won numerous awards for taste, and our vodkas are in about 80 countries. I’m proud to go around the world and say it’s a Canadian product, from a country that is tolerant. We have our pride bottle. We celebrate the LGBTQ+ community frequently. We had the same-gender preference marriage long ago in Canada. We are a Canadian company, and we espouse Canadian values, quality, and dependability for the consumer. The best water with the best manufacturer. The corn comes from Chatham, Ontario, from same-system corn farming. Now, no one in the world works as hard as I do to make this vodka. We grab the corn, take it to the same farming system, with the peaches and cream corn, the big, fat kernels there. We harvest them. They go into the mash truck. The truck then drives a fifth of the way across Canada to a nine-hour ferry ride to Newfoundland, where we mix it with the water in the distillery. Then it goes out into containers, and into the world from there. We’re going to great trouble to make it.

T: I’m glad that you went to some length there to share the process with us. You also mentioned accolades. Crystal Head is a vodka that we’ve long enjoyed at VinePair. You can check it in the reviews, in the roundups. What I always say to people as well is that you have this amazing-looking bottle, but don’t look past what’s inside it as well. Can you also tell us about the bottle? Obviously, it is very striking and definitely sets you apart on the liquor shelf.

D: Well, it does. Of course, being that we wanted to have a business that sustains, we had to put a quality fluid in it. One that people will enjoy and look past the bottle to drink it. Many bottles are still around the world. I have 200 of them in my barn here in Canada because of the parties I’ve had over the years. I don’t throw them away. We wanted to sell the idea of enlightened drinking and to have a drink that doesn’t have additives, which is very popular with bar chefs. Crystal Head is the virgin slate, it’s a blank canvas in which to do mixes. As you know. You guys are mixologists, you know bar chefs, and you know what is going into vodka. We’ve got one that is high-quality with no additives and pure. We wanted to sell the idea and the mythos of purity. With the myth of the crystal heads, we wanted to utilize that myth because they were enlightening the tribes that own them. The Anasazi, the Navajo, the Aztec, and the Mayans all purportedly had these star children’s heads or crystal heads that were used as scrying devices. There was a positive aspect and a positive myth. A myth of purity and power to these heads owned by these various aboriginal indigenous tribal bands around the planet — in legend anyway. I thought that this is the perfect vessel to put our stripped-down, zero-additives, pure fluid in. Let’s take the mythos of purity and put it into the bottle. Now, you’ve got an award-winning fluid with no junk in it. The crystal heads, you saw the “Indiana Jones” movie, they were ascribed to extraterrestrial origin. The Navajo said they’re from the star children. In the movie, they certainly take advantage of that myth of the heads being from another planet. There were 13 of them in the world that were known, and five out of the eight are in the hands of mankind, and five are missing. Three of them are in museums, one at the V&A in London and two in the Smithsonian. One was found in the Yucatan; that’s the most popular and famous one, the Mitchell Hedges skull. Mitchell Hedges was the granddaughter of an explorer. They were in Central America and found this head wrapped in an oilcloth. She reached into a hole in a cave and found it. It had a detachable jaw. It was beautiful. It had so-called healing powers. People who would see it, the velvet cape would come off it, and you’d get an immediate feeling of wellbeing and warmth in the belly just by looking at it. It was very beautiful to look at. You can get pictures of it. The Mitchell Hedges skull. People can look it up on any search engine and dig up a picture of it. It sat here in Ontario for a long time. There is one in Mexico City with a cross stuck right on the top of it. Were they ancient or were they made by man? Either way, they are beautiful to look at. For my purposes, it was the perfect sales legend to sell our quality story by tying into the mythos of purity that the skulls had in legend. It worked well for us.

Cat Wolinski: Dan, this is Cat. I am following up on your story about the myth of purity and alcohol. I’m curious to hear your thoughts on the brands that are marketing themselves as better-for-you, “healthy” beer, spirits, wine, etc.

D: I think organic is a movement that is not doing too much harm to the consumer. I think we’re an organic product. It’s up to the consumer to be discriminating and to decide whether something is better for them or not. Is it better to have a drink that has 100 calories? With Crystal Head, we have 65 calories. We don’t say we’re better for your health in our marketing, but I think that you have to trust the consumer to believe stories or not. Certainly, we say we’re pure, and you can run our product on a spectrograph. It will run completely flat. There are no impurities in it because of our filtration system. If you want a vodka that doesn’t have a cousin to antifreeze it in or a caustic cleanser, then maybe it is better for you to have vodka, like Crystal Head, that doesn’t have that stuff. Look at all the stuff you’re adding today to vodka and mixes. I don’t know Pernod, vermouth, Fernet-Branca, emulsified sugars, Bloody Caesars. Our bar chefs around the world love our Aurora bottle. That’s the one with the mirror finish. That’s a wheat vodka that comes out of Yorkshire, England. Very soft, sunset wheat. A little more spice to it than the corn. The corn’s notes are sweet vanilla, dry and crisp. And the other one is star anise and peppercorn. Then we have our new expression, which is quite exciting because the whole legend, as you’ve taken me through here today of where we got started with my partners and myself, is the tequila. We now build a vodka that is vodka-style distillation, but we use the Blue Weber agave. This is in the black head, the Onyx. This is taking a vodka treatment of distillation and filtration, then making it from the Blue Weber agave mash. It is a big hit because of its floral, earthy, long finish when you’re tasting it. It’s like nothing I’ve ever had. It’s almost like a white whiskey with tequila.

T: Can you try to describe that? Say you were giving someone the elevator pitch. It’s tequila made in the vodka way, but how would you describe it?

D: I would say it’s like a beautiful, white whiskey. If you were to close your eyes, is it brown or white? You wouldn’t know but you get the taste of tequila. You would think this tastes like tequila, but it’s not as overpowering as some tequilas can be. There’s a softness to it.

T: I believe it serves as an intro to tequila. The way that I’ve described it to people is maybe you didn’t have a good experience with tequila before. A lot of people didn’t in college. People may want to take a little step before you dive into that category again. Maybe you should try this. Yet, I definitely think it stands on its own as a unique product. It’s super interesting.

D: It crosses vodka and tequila grounds a bit. There are some notes that have been written about white pepper, citrus. I mean, you can have notes on anything like a hint of baby diaper with a burnt tire. Notes can get into some heavy pretensions when you get to some of the critics. However, I would say earthy. It’s just something that’s never been done, and people are loving it. It’s never been done to take Blue Weber agave and then adjust the temperature and distillation so you can get a vodka-style treatment on it.

Katie Brown: So that leads into my question. I’ve been curious, with that specific spirit, do you drink it as if it’s a tequila? Would you put it in a Margarita? Or do you use it for classic vodka cocktails, like a Martini? What’s your favorite way to drink it?

D: You can drink it as a traditional vodka. You can drink it as a tequila. Either way, it crosses both lines there and serves in a Margarita beautifully. Of course, as a Martini, there’s no taste like it, if it’s cold and shaken with a lemon peel.

T: That’s your preferred serve on the Martini?

D: I like it shaken. I like to hear a steward on the Long Island Rail Road with white gloves in the bar car, shaking, shaking, shaking as the tracks click, click, click by. Then, I’m coming to my seat as I’ve got my Wall Street Journal folded into a single column. I can get a drink from that steward, handed to me in a tumbler, a vodka Martini, shaken with ice, with lime or olives, maybe a hint of white vermouth, throw it out. That’s the 1954 Long Island Rail Road  Bar Car Martini. In 1954, you’re a Madison Avenue executive going in from New Rochelle into the city. You sit there with your Wall Street Journal folded into a single column at 10:30 in the morning. Get a Martini. That’s the dream way to have a Martini. I like a rinse of fine white vermouth, throw the rinse out and shake it, put it up in a Martini glass with ice chips and a lemon peel or olives. I do like the vodka that way. Now, the other way I like the Aurora, the Onyx, or the Original, is to put it in a tumbler with ice and pour about two and a half, three ounces, and then I take a freshly squeezed jug of clementine or fine citrus. I pour that orange juice in very slowly. It’s important to do this, because somehow it makes a difference. Treat it as if you’re cracking the yolk of an egg. You pour it very slow while you watch the yellow emulsify and go out through the vodka, and the color changes. Then, just a quick stir. That’s the Crystal Driver. That’s the best Screwdriver I’ve ever had.

However, I love to have people experiment. I love going and visiting bars. We sold gallons of our Crystal Heads there in Vegas with a white Cosmo at a few of the casinos. It’s basically white cranberry juice with egg white. I forgot what casino it was, but they had some great formulations there. We also got a bar in the Boystown district of Chicago that has a machine downstairs. They put the bottles in, and it serves out a punch on Sunday. They have these massive Sunday brunches in Boystown where you can go get food and drink and dance and watch old movies and karaoke. It’s the fun-est thing. One of the clubs there has this dispenser downstairs, and there’s basically a tap where you can get Crystal Head punch. I love that application. They are mixing a fruit punch, like a Hawaiian Punch type of treatment.

K: That sounds amazing. I want to go there now.

T: I’m enjoying the way that you’re describing making cocktails to us. I’m wondering whether you could ever do an audio cocktail recipe book.

D: If you get on the World Wide Web, crystalhead.com, we’ve got our professional bar chef. We were playing around with some recipes there, you can go to our cocktail section. We actually have professionals doing it, and I like to watch and drink. You can get on there and see what we’re doing with the recipes that we’ve gotten from around the world. We have a Startender program worldwide. Bar chefs from around the world submit recipes to us, we select them and award prizes sometimes where it’s legal. Our Startender program is very popular. The gateway to the consumer for any beverage alcohol is the bar chef on the front line. They love talking about the Crystal Head. It’s the only one you can throw up in the air or put on your shoulder and do voices with. It’s fun and easy. It’s a safe product. The seal, of course, is very safe. It’s just a high-quality, premium Canadian entry into the industry that I’m happy to say people worldwide are loving.

T: That is a nice segue because you’ve mentioned a couple of pretty good drinking cities already on the pod. I wanted to get your opinion when we’re all able to travel again, what is the best city in the world to go to for a drink and for cocktails?

D: London, England. Hands down.

K: Home of the Vesper.

D: London has molecular bar chefs there. They’re really into construction and they love the Head because of the no additives. One of our largest markets is the City of London. I would say next, you want to be looking at Sydney, Australia.

T: I hear that, too. And there’s a lot of crossover between Sydney and London. I used to work as a chef for many years in London, and we got a ton of chefs from Sydney. I want to say that London made Sydney good. That’s what I’m getting at here.

D: In Melbourne, there’s a famous cocktail bar down in an alley there. Melbourne, Australia, is also a great city for bar chefs and recipes. Toronto, Ontario. Can’t ignore that place where great people are doing stuff there.

T: You’re missing New York! Dan, you’re speaking to a couple of people based in New York, and you’re not bringing up the best drinking city in the world.

D: New York needs a little more sophistication. They need to embrace the Crystal Head, the no-additive story a little more before I talk about New York.

T: Well, sometimes bartenders do occasionally, and I don’t want comments at this, but move away from vodka. I don’t think that’s always fair.

D: Here’s my argument there, and I know exactly what you’re talking about. It’s the notion of “Oh, everybody has vodka. Brown spirits are where we’ve got to focus or the rums, gins of the world.” Now, there’s some great gins, don’t get me wrong. There are great rums and whiskeys but every bar of quality, if you’re going to be serving your customer, why not serve a premium vodka? Every bar needs vodka. You need it on the back shelf. Why not have the Head on your back shelf? It draws attention to your bar, it’s a beautiful art piece, and provides the consumer with a 90-plus point consistent rating. Also with quality, it’s only about $1.32 more a shot if you price it competitively. Now, I say to bar chefs out there who are doing wonderful things with whiskeys, brown spirits, rums, and gins that you need vodka. You’re doing these wonderful things, you’re purveying these quality drinks to your consumer and for the one or two or three or 100 people that want vodka, Crystal Head is your non-additive choice. Put it up there with your premium stock, and it’s only $1.32 a shot more if you price it right.

T: New York City bar chefs, you heard.

D: I have great friends in New York. The W Hotel has been great to us for many years. However, I think there are more people that need to embrace the story. I think I need to blow through there on a tour in the “Headmobile.” We might be cranking it up again because Onyx is growing at a beautiful rate for us and we may get on the wave of that. Yes, it was a Freightliner tractor that is used for hauling race cars around. It was a big cat tractor. It was wonderful on the highway. With that turbo, it was a beautiful sound. I drove it many times. It lit up at night. We had a red infrared choice at night. It was like the Star Trek cruiser there, and it had an apartment on the back. It really moved. You could do about 90 in it because it had nothing in the back and we painted it up like a delivery truck. We had the Crystal Head all over it, and we went all over when we were launching. Even in New York, we need to revive the Head and go out there to educate bar chefs that are missing it. We want to let them know that there is a choice out there for premium vodka that is superior to some of the lesser stock that the consumer is being forced to consume because of a lack of knowledge.

K: I can see that vehicle pulling up to a speakeasy, like, “Oh, well, I guess we know where the speakeasy is now”.

D: Sure, even at a biker bar, a dance club, or anywhere there are people, you’ll find Crystal Head, along with people having a good time. I will also say that anywhere I am with people consuming Crystal Head, there will be treats. I will buy rounds. I put my money where my product is. Now, we don’t go down to the spring break. We’re not pushing it on the youth; we never have. Our consumer range is 25 to 85, with a huge female demographic. A lot of our consumers, both male and female, have double college degrees. They’re very knowledgeable in that way. Many are in the tech professions or design, we found in our surveys. They have the discretionary income to buy something better, an affordable luxury for themselves, which is Crystal Head. We’re not going down to spring break with the Head machines and the pipes with the guzzling youngsters. That is something we’ve never chased. If you happen to be down on spring break and you go to a bar and Crystal Head is there, then I urge it. I don’t think you’ll ever see it being consumed from the Headmobile on a beach on spring break. We’re selling to the people who are halfway through college or finished.

T: What is the name of your fans? I heard you say head machine there. I’m guessing that’s not the name of Crystal Head fans.

D: I would say, the fans are “Head-heads.” If you’re a Head-head, that works. Again, we’ve got people that are discriminating so they want something better and are willing to pay a little more for it. Why not? We have impeccable water sources. In some of the other vodkas, the water has been called into question — specifically, the hygiene of the factory. But we have a beautiful filtration system. We have seven filtrations, micron, and charcoal with an agitated charcoal filtration system. It’s not just being poured through like a charcoal sieve. In the end, we pour through Herkimer Diamonds. There are semi-precious stones that are white double-sided semi-precious crystals, and we pour the final pour through a cone of them, and it just comes out so satiny and lovely. It does add something! I don’t know if you ask the high school chemistry teacher if you were to say, “What does pouring a C2H5O6 over double-sided crystals do for the beverage?” They probably would say, “scientifically, maybe not much,” but we’ve done tests where we pour over the crystals, and people like it poured over the crystals better. The last vestiges of any negative psychic energy on the planet are coming out because some of those crystals turn yellow, and that’s surprising. We have to sometimes turn them over or buy new ones. By the time that fluid hits those crystals, it’s already flat pure. I don’t know what else is being weaned out of there, but we do have the world’s purest vodka. I can definitely say that. I don’t think anybody’s doing it without the oils today. I may be wrong, I don’t know.

K: Well, it sounds amazing. I want to go on a train right now and order a Martini.

D: They outlawed it! The Long Island Rail Road outlawed it. Now, you can still get vodka on Amtrak. Now, on Canadian National Rail, you can get Crystal Head, I believe. We had a program running so that you could get it on the cross-country Canadian railroad. However, the commuting Wall Street advertising man can no longer get a Martini on the Long Island Rail Road as of three or four years ago. A tragedy.

T: Indeed. Dan, I would urge people to go out there and taste the difference for themselves, taste the effect of the crystal. See the proof in the pudding or the proof in the Head. Just wanted to say, thank you so much for spending the time today to talk with us. I feel there are two or three more episodes of stuff we need to get into. But I appreciate your time today, and thanks from all of us! It’s been great chatting.

D: Oh, sure! We’ve got some great beers and wines up in Canada. I encourage you to come when the borders are open. Come up to Niagara to the farm, and we’ll sit and have some T-bones or vegetarian meals. The daughters are all vegetarian. We eat and drink hearty here at the lake in the summer. If you’re passing through, you can get through KLG Public Relations to set this up. By all means to any and all of you, if you’re in the Kingston, Ontario, region, which is a beautiful lakeside town up here where the Cork Regatta is held. It’s a sailing regatta, the home of Royal Military College, which is our equivalent of West Point or Sandringham military school. Queen’s University is here where the brilliant, inspiring genius of our age, Elon Musk, went to school here at Queen’s University for two years. This is a devoted town to his legend, and if you’re up here, come up to the farm. By all means, we entertain heavily and heartily in the summer.

K: Definitely coming up.

Joanna Sciarrino: Maybe you could bring the Head-mobile to our New York office.

D: For sure. That would look good!

K: Going 90 down the Hutch. It’s going to be awesome.

D: Well, thank you, guys. Great to talk to you.

Thanks for listening to this week’s episode of “EOD Drinks.” If you’ve enjoyed this program, please leave us a rating or a review wherever you get your podcasts. It really helps other people discover the show. And tell your friends. We want as many people as possible listening to this amazing program.

And now for the credits. “End of Day Drinks” is recorded live in New York City at VinePair’s headquarters. And it is produced, edited, and engineered by VinePair tastings director, yes, he wears a lot of hats, Keith Beavers. I also want to give a special thanks to VinePair’s co-founder, Josh Malin, to the executive editor Joanna Sciarrino, to our senior editor, Cat Wolinski, senior staff writer Tim McKirdy, and our associate editor Katie Brown. And a special shout-out to Danielle Grinberg, VinePair’s art director who designed the sick logo for this program. The music for “End of Day Drinks” was produced, written, and recorded by Darby Cici. I’m VinePair co-founder Adam Teeter, and we’ll see you next week. Thanks a lot.

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