#cause regular apartments are absolutely too expensive

[clarascuro]

If I made just $2 more per hour I could afford to live on my own next year. Like I would be miserably poor and I'd have to get all of my food from the community kitchen but at least I wouldn't have to live with my mother lol

[ceasarslegion]

By the wishes of a few people, here's my advice post about living alone. Keep in mind I'm speaking from the perspective of a canadian urbanite, so this will not apply to absolutely everybody in every kind of culture, economy, living situation, those in rural areas, etc. This also is not assuming wealth disparities are a matter of personal attitude, i KNOW it's complicated. Get back with that shit right now, you know damn well this advice assumes you are able to achieve the financial means to live on your own and is not disparaging anyone who legitimately can't.

Let's cover the basics first.

Source of income:

This seems rather obvious, but your income should be regular and reliably the same or similar on a monthly basis. The most obvious way to achieve this is with a job, and I'm sorry but minimum wage is not going to cut it on your own anymore, which means you're going to have to swallow your pride and accept that you'll likely have to work for some industry or corporation with a dodgy moral record. Get used to it. There is no point in self-flagellation, the world is complicated, just take the 50-60k a year office job, no one actually expects you not to and nobody will hold it against you when the "moral" option is soul-crushing retail. The real world really doesn't give a shit what you have to do to afford a comfortable lifestyle as long as you do what good you can within your abilities, no one in the real world expects you to sacrifice your own wellbeing for a cause.

Salaried positions are your most reliable because you'll always pull the same amount, while hourly pay comes with the ability to pull overtime pay in exchange for more shifts, but if you run out of sick days you'll have to spend the rest of the year taking unpaid time off when you need to call in. Whichever one you choose depends on what's available to you and what's right for you physically and mentally, I can't make that call for you.

You also need a credit card. That is non-negotiable. If you don't have a credit score, you can't sign a lease. Bad credit is better than no credit. We can argue until the cows come home whether or not credit scores are good or bad, but it's just reality that you're going to need one. The good news is it's fairly easy to build credit from no credit: you just have to pay off your credit card in full on time every time. The bad news is it's equally as easy to tank your credit score, you just have to miss one or pay it too late, and it's very hard to build good credit back from bad credit. So don't see it as free money, only spend as much as you can pay back, and if you don't have credit right now, start with small things like lunch and little treats that you immediately pay off.

Looking for a place to live:

Once you have your regular and reliable source of income, you can start looking for your place. There's a few things you should keep in mind:

-Draw up a budget for how much you can spend on rent and bills. That includes all basic living expenses: rent, utilities, food, internet, phone, hygiene. Compare how much you make per month to what you can spend. 1/3 to 1/2 of your salary is a bit more realistic to expect to spend on rent alone nowadays, so work within that range when you apartment hunt. Think of everything when you're budgeting, like how much do you spend on haircuts per month? You probably didn't think of that, because I didn't either at first.

-Apartment buildings with some/all utilities included often have higher base rents. You have to keep in mind that this is so the landlord can balance out the utility bills of the whole building, which are unpredictable expenses and on them to pay every month. If you don't know how to budget yet or don't know how to do so with unpredictable bills, I highly recommend trying to find a place with utilities included so you know EXACTLY how much you'll need to pay every month and can plan in advance

-Older buildings tend to be both cheaper and more likely to have centralized utility systems, which means they have to include it in the price of rent because there's no way to tell who used how much of something. If it's your first place alone, you'll probably be tempted to get the brand new, expensive building down the road, but it won't actually make much of a difference when you move in. You will love it regardless.

-Never ever sign a lease until you've either seen THE unit you're considering, or one of the show units that is exactly the same layout. The last thing you want is to go off online photos only to move in and find out the building has a mold problem. You can arrange personal tours by contacting the building manager or the landlord directly. Phone calls are the best way to do this.

-If you want the unit after seeing it, you know you can afford it, there's nothing funny about the place, apply IMMEDIATELY. Places are usually on the market for a few days before they're snapped up by a new tenant, you have to strike while the iron's hot.

-If you've decided on the place you want and had your application accepted, read the lease carefully before you sign. Many places require tenant insurance that meet specific policy requirements, have registration rules about long-term guests, outline how the parking works, quiet hours, smoking rules, mail, laundry, all the way down to what kind of barbecues are allowed on your deck in the case of mine (I am in a wildfire danger zone, so any types that produce embers are strictly prohibited for fire safety reasons). Ask any question that comes to mind about the lease. Not everything in a lease is some human rights violation just because you don't like landlords, keep in mind you're living in the same building as dozens of other people, so there has to be ground rules established for everyone's sanity.

-Internet is often not considered a utility so you'll have a hard time finding any place that includes it. You can arrange to have your wifi set up in advance of a moving date on a specific time and date, do this right after you sign a lease so you don't forget. They won't charge you until you're actually hooked up to the network.

-If your utilities are NOT included, get those set up in advance too. The main ones are HVAC, water, and electricity. The companies that do this vary depending on where you live and what's available, so shop around online once you've signed your lease and sign up as soon as possible. The last thing you want is to forget this and then move into a dark freezing apartment with no water.

Budgeting:

After your living expenses are covered, you should have a comfortable amount of financial wiggle room leftover. If you wouldn't, the place you're looking at is either too expensive, or you're being overcharged elsewhere. It's completely normal for living expenses to take up most of your budget these days, you're doing just fine in the same boat as everybody else if that's the case, so don't panic yet. If you have absolutely NOTHING leftover though, then you're out of your price range.

You also need to set money aside for fun and saving. Do not forego fun money, your brain will try to kill you with hammers and knives if you never get or do things for yourself. And if you're on your own, you're the only one providing that for yourself now. And a solid building base of savings will only help you in the future, whether you lose your job, have an emergency, or even need a down payment on a house later in life. Don't be a doomer about your circumstances or the socioeconomic and generational cards that were dealt to you, chip away at it a little at a time. And don't fall for social media's insistence that anybody with anything at all is some bourgeois degenerate or that being fortunate enough to be able to have upward mobility makes you some ultra wealthy shithead, working towards a comfortable standard of living for yourself does not make you a rich elite or a bad person. You're working towards the standard we should all live as, not exploiting the poor or being a class traitor. I feel the need to add that last part since we're on the website of "struggling art students in NYC are bourgeois that are just bad with money and having a gaming computer makes you upper middle class." Don't listen to a word any of those people say, I know it comes from a place of very real hurt and pain for them but that doesn't make it grounded in absolute reality for absolutely everybody.

Social needs:

If you're by yourself, there's gonna be a lot more work you have to put in for your social and entertainment needs. I can not stress enough how important it is to give this the time and work it needs, do not neglect this.

Lots of libraries have clubs you can join that will get you out of the house and meeting new people regularly. They're either free or very inexpensive. This is a great place to start.

Take advantage of technology we have now. Hop on discord calls more frequently, make sure you're talking to your friends on the regular and try to make plans as much as you can.

Also, I advise finding lots of things you can do by yourself. You will be spending way more time alone than you ever have before, so find single-person hobbies. Go thrifting, get into knitting, go explore the city, read lots of books, do puzzles, just don't lock yourself inside all day in your free time. Even if you're doing it alone, going out and seeing that the world is bigger than your apartment and your workplace is very good for you.

Misc advice:

You don't need a conventional coffee pot maker. Single serving will suit you just fine.

Cleaning is easier when you have a routine. It doesn't all have to be done on the same day of the week, but having a regular schedule of what gets cleaned when for non-daily chores will help you keep on top of it. And please, god, don't neglect your cleaning and hygiene just because no one lives with you to see it. On that note, spray bottle all purpose cleaners are your best friend for daily spot cleaning and you should deep clean your washroom around every 2 weeks in my experience since that's where you'll be doing most of your personal hygiene. Also make your damn bed, yes you'll just get back into it at the end of the day but having a major part of your space neat and tidy will do wonders for your mental health.

Don't buy the cheap garbage bags. Some things you really do want the expensive shit for.

If you don't have a car, delivery service/rideshare subscriptions ARE worth it and legitimately economical in the long run. I do wanna circle back to square one and say that yes, most of them like prime and uber do have dodgy moral records, but sometimes you just gotta swallow your pride and accept that. Once again, no one in the real world expects you to spend your entire day on public transit looking for toilet paper that isnt 30 dollars a pack or lugging 50 pounds of groceries back on a bus just for a cause. It's not the fault of someone who needs these services for their quality of life that they do the things they do, don't put that responsibility on your or other's shoulders when the fault lies at the top of the corporate ladder.

When you're budgeting for living expenses, expect your income to be at the lowest and your expenses to be at the highest. I expect 2 call ins per month and to need to spend the max amount i have on groceries every time, that way I never fall short and never have to cut into my savings that I've dubbed my "oh shit, I'm broke" money. Your emergency reserve may look tempting to you, but as someone who has been in a position where they had to drain it to nothing in the past because of an unforeseen financial emergency, you REALLY are gonna want that untouched if and when shit hits the fan. Life is unpredictable, prepare to roll with the punches so they don't knock you out.

A few people wanted to be tagged in this, so here you go @lilsnatch and @kisstheashes <3

[whitespiderlilies]

Hyuk Lee Headcannons

A/N: fandom dead, but not my power to write about him. He's so skrunkly it's illegal that my boy lacks fanfics about him <//3

(sfw)

-Him

-You

-Eun

Dating him would include..

It would take a lot of patience to get him to warm up to you— and a lot more to put up with his bluntness and lack of context, but once he does, he's like a puppy.

Once he's definitely at a point of comfort around you, he'll let you see his more emotional side.

Will sometimes randomly pop up in your apartment without asking.

“They just released season 8 in Maria In the Sky.”

“How did you get in my apartment?”

“You left your spare keys in your pocket.”

Rambles about inconvenient happenings throughout his day or anime stuff, while you rub circles around his back and pepper his face in kisses.

He's never really showed his emotions to anyone before, since he's stuck at a standard to always be a matured older sibling, and cause ‘men don't cry’. In which, leads to a lot of bottled up emotions.

Sure, he could go to Eun about his problems. But he doesn't want to burden his younger sister with such things, and just add more to the girl's slightly negative image of her brother.

You're literally the only person he goes to when it comes to that side. He loves you for that, too.

Likes talking to Gyuhwan about you, just as much as he likes to talk about his favorite anime.

He's the type to still believe in chivalry. One time, he sacrificed his white button up shirt during the start of one of your monthly periods, just so that no one could notice blood staining your pants.

Wraps his arm around your neck and kisses the side of your head regularly.

Cosplay as Saber for him. He'll collapse.

He'll let you doze off in his lap while he spends his entire night gaming.

He takes off his glasses and stares at you blankly when you make an obvious mistake. It's like a ‘stare of realization’ moment.

It's a regular occurrence to have a sleepover at the Lee siblings' apartment every Friday.

He absolutely loves how close you are to Eun. Realizes that you are DEFINITELY the one for him.

Drags you to bed when it's past 10 PM, even though he's the one that needs sleep.

“Sweetheart, I'm fine.” *Literally almost beaten to death*

You get used to the matured side of Hyuk, but you do also have to get used to his nerdy side.

Will literally invite you to every anime con near the city. And pays for all of it.

Will take 5 minutes off to wear a full maid outfit for when you two are about to clean something. Whether it be the dishes, your apartment, or some old carpet you bought off the facebook marketplace.

Eun also warmed up to you rather easily, to Hyuk's surprise. Maybe because you both share a small history of smoking in secret , or maybe cause you buy her free ice cream when Hyuk's not looking.

The two siblings (playfully) fight over you during sleepovers at their apartment. One over a trip to the ice cream parlor, and the other for another trip to the anime convention.

It would just end up with a short detour to get ice cream, and then go to the anime con.

He loves showing you off in public. Whenever anyone passes by, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close.

He thanks his lucky stars on how he was so blessed to have bagged such a diamond.

His love language is letting you touch all of his manga, anime figurines (even the expensive ones), and even more.

Wraps you up in a blanket burrito, carries you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, throws you on the bed, throws snacks on the bed, turns on the laptop. Anime binge date.

Out of the blue, he'll smack your ass when you two are alone. It's become a regular occurrence, to the point that you get paranoid when you don't get that 11:45 AM booty slap in the kitchen and Hyuk's just right beside you. Relief drowns in your veins when he finally goes in with the triple squeeze booty grope 4K.

He'll do that thing, where he massages your ears and the slowly drifts his hand down the sides of your face and down your collarbone. Tingly.

Lets Yuri die from a lack of an inhaler, but he will drop all of his shit when he finds you almost attacked by a monster.

Will wrap his one and only button up shirt around you and even wipes the blood off your face using it.

Holds your hand almost all the time and keeps you by his side, will never let you disappear from his peripheral vision.

Looks so carefree and calm around the others, but once you two are behind closed doors, he's back to quietly rambling into your neck while you sit on his lap, consoling/comforting him.

“Yesterday, one of Eun's friends accidentally broke my Miku figurine.. It was those antique, one-of-a-kind ones— and Eun just said that it was no big deal?? As if it didn't just cost more than what I'd earn in my lifetime!”

Occasionally, he'll hold you up until your feet dangles above the floor and just lets you nuzzle your face in his hair. In secret, he's ravishing the fact that his own face is in your boobs. Fair trade? I must say so.

It looks spiky, but really, it's just really fluffy. Pomeranian built hair. Just total floof.

[casspurrjoybell-32]

Runaway Wolf - Chapter 3a

*Warning Adult Content*

Levi Blackman

The club was only a few blocks away from the bar and my apartment.

The streets of L.A were something to see.

There were many busy people in the day light who paid you absolutely no attention at all, huge buildings with light in every other window.

I smiled as some big buff guy bumped into me and made no attempt to excuse himself.

I looked down at my watch... it was 8:15 p.m. which meant I was about fifteen minutes late for work and I was going to get my ass chewed out by my very strict boss.

I hurried my strides till I arrived at the back door of the club where I usually entered, which was the lounge for employees.

“You are late.”

I jumped at the sound of Harold’s voice.

Turning swiftly I faced him with a nervous smile.

“I’m so sorry. Time got ahead of me,” I said shrugging my jacket off and placing it on the hook beside the door.

“Yeah, well... You better be ahead of it next time or there won’t be a next time for you, Mister Artieeest,” he mocked rolling his eyes.

“There are hundreds of people lining up for your job and I can have you replace like that,” and he snapped him fingers.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

Harold Jacobson was your average Joe who came into a lot of money a while ago, he was losing his hair and expanding were no man ever want to.  

He was going through what humans like to call a middle age crisis and thought he’d stay hip by wearing skinny jeans and ECHO t-shirts 'even though echo went out of style so, so long ago.' 

His shoes were cool though, vans are pretty expensive these days.

Personally I thought he tried too hard, I mean yeah you own one cool club but you don’t have to over sell yourself.

I think it would be better if he just wore a nice business suit, people would take him more seriously and if he wasn’t into that a pair of regular jeans and a dress shirt would work just fine.

But he had it out for me now since I was starting to get my paintings out there and people were starting to demanded my work but I was just like him a regular hard working person trying to pay my next bill you know, so I never let him get to me when he was like this.

I just shrugged it off and continued on.

“Yes, Sir,” I said.

He stared at me for minute before flicking his hand in the air a sign for me to go to work so I did.

Taking a deep breath I walked towards the storage room that connected to the bar.

Once in there I noticed the lights were on and Eli was lifting boxes of liquor to restock the bar, he looked up at me and smiled.

God this man was one sexy guy and his smile was to die for.

“Hey, my brother from another mother,” he exclaimed nodding at me and I smiled back.

“What’s up, Sexy,” I teased and he narrowed his eyes playfully.

“Hey,” he warned.

“My girl wouldn’t like me switching sides on her now.” 

“Well... I’ll take that as a compliment,” I winked which caused him to laugh.

I walked over, rolling up my sleeve to my elbows and helped him out by taking the large box from his hands easily.

He shook his head.

“Man... I still don’t know how you lift these things with such ease. I go to the gym twice a week and every day on the weekends and I still can’t do that. What’s your secret?” he asked leaning down to pick up a much smaller box.

“I’m just naturally talented like that. Hey do we have a crowd tonight?”

I could hear the thumping of the heavy bass as the music played.

“Yeah... it’s bigger than last night but it is Friday so there’s always s a large crowd.”

“True that.”

We walked out and I was instantly bombarded by flashing lights and scents.

There was a large group of people waiting for us at the bar so after we stocked the shelves since it looked like we would need to we started serving the drinks.

I have no idea why the guys that worked yesterday hadn’t restocked the liquor and drinks for us before they left but I made no comment on it.  

I remember when I first arrived in this city I was looking for work and this place was the only one with a help wanted  when I searched on the computer so after hundreds of work place I got rejected at, it came down to club RAIN smack dab in the middle of downtown LA.

Let me tell you, I was use to the club CRANK, Caleb and I went to all the time back in Portland.

It was a pretty small club for just us gays.

But CRANK was like a hole in the wall in comparison to this place.

There were huge flat screens on the walls showing random color patterns or the dance floor.

The music here was really good and there were crystal bead droppings hanging on the ceiling everywhere around the place.

Neon lights of all colors flashed in strobes from the floor while the bar was light up in blues and white on the side of the huge club.

There was always about two to three bartenders at the bar since the space was too large for just one person to handle alone.

I work from eight to two in the morning so I was always dead tired when I went home and Matthew had the audacity to complain when I broke his dumb alarm clocks because woke me up at fucking seven in the morning.

The music was blasting and I reached in my pocket for my trusty ear plugs to lessen the effect on my sensitive hearing but I could still hear people yelling orders.

There was one girl who kept flirting with Eli and I and it was kind of in our job description to flirt back... to keep the customers happy.

So now you see why it’s beyond easy for me to flirt with a complete strangers like for example Mr. Security Guard but I owed Lola for the little lessons on how to do it right because before her I was too shy to even think of doing something like that.

I met her here actually and that’s where I got my first lesson.

I wonder if she’ll show up later to come talk with me.

“Hey can I get a Black Velvet,” some guy asked over the music leaning on the counter and thumping it with his hands in a quick rhythm.

I nodded and grabbed all the ingredients.

When I join this job I they had to teach me the whole drink menu and how to prepare them fast, I remember wasting a shit load of my money on alcohol when I  went home to perfect them all.

Plus I got Jace, Finn, Logan and Gab all trashed when they had to sample them all.

I hadn’t met Matthew yet but he wasn’t far behind after this.

I grabbed a bottle of Guinness and a bottle of Champagne set it down on the counter and quickly took a tall glass from that particular slot from under the counter and poured the beer in, topping it off with some of the champagne.

“There you go, Sir,” I said sliding the glass towards him and turned to the next customer who was already smashed so she slurred her words to me.

“So are you working this weekend?” Eli asked me his eyes focused on the shots he was sending out at a fast pace.

I was giving a show to some pretty sexy girls as I poured a variety of different liquors into four tall glasses full of ice for all of them.

I raised my hands high above my head as I poured never letting a drop miss the glass.

“I don’t know. I am a little late on rent so I think I might come in tomorrow depending on whose working,” I answered adding a splash of cranberry juice to the finish the drink off and a cherry, stirred them with the straws I placed in them and pushed them all softly in front of each girl. 

The girls gave me seductive smiles and winked at me.

“Enjoy your Sex on The Beach ladies,” I purred as they giggled before I turning towards Eli.

“What about you,” he shook his head.

“I’m going to the rents for my dad’s birthday.”

I nodded.

“That should be fun,” I voice wiping down my area.

“Yeah. I'm finally going to introduce Tiff to them.”

“Things are getting pretty serious between you two then,” I asked, amazed.

I’ve known Eli since I first started here three years back and from what I’ve seen of the guy... was that... he was not the settling down type.

I wouldn’t call him a man whore or anything it was just he wasn’t interested in all that fast girls and relationships but once Tiff came around he was like a whole different person.

“I dare say it. I think my little Eli is falling in love,” I teased fluttering my eye lashes at him.

He glared at me, throwing his towel in my face but couldn’t keep the grin off his.

“Maybe,” he muttered turning back to give some one another shot.

“It was the smile,” I said crossing my arms and leaning my hip against the counter.

“The what?” he asked confused and I reached out and touched his lips with my pointer finger.

“Your smile, it’s beautiful,” I told him thoughtfully because it was true.

I was taken aback by this guy’s smile when I first met him and I bet his girlfriend adores it.

It was that kind of smile where you can’t help but smile along with him.

He blinked once, twice before moving back to reach one of the vodka bottles from off the display shelf behind us.

“You say the craziest things sometimes, Levi,” his voice light and happy like my compliment made his day.

“Well... that’s why your friends with me... isn’t it?” I joked.

[volleychumps]

Heyy! Can you do one where Osamu, kuroo, akaashi and Tsukishima, say something mean to their s/o and their s/o avoids them for days? When they finally get ahold of their s/o, their s/o just sorta cries because it hit their insecure spot? Fluff in the end🥺

Listen, I can’t not write this. 

Irrevocable Words. 

- the one in which they accidentally make you give them the silent treatment because of their lashing out. -

~ Osamu Miya, Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji, and Tsukishima Kei~ 

TW: Cursing, angst to fluff, timeskip! for Osamu, 

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

Osamu Miya

“Those are important files, ya know?” 

“Samu, I’m sorry. You should’ve told me you needed last month’s earnings and I would’ve looked for them before we came this morning.” The hand you tried to settle onto Osamu’s bicep was shaken off as your movements faltered. 

Your voice wobbled at the sight of your stoic fiance, an annoyed glint in his eye as he rummages through his files. Osamu felt a flare in his stomach, a lack of sleep contributing to his impatient state. The day had been a busy one, Osamu deciding that he needed this particular file for his business call tomorrow before the two of you headed home for the night. 

“I told ya not to move anything back to the place.”

“I didn’t.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Here, just let me help-” 

“Don’t touch a goddamn thing, I’ll do it myself.” There it was. The lashing out that was bound to happen occurred with a pointed tongue as he refused to look at you, rummaging through his file cabinets. “As I do everything else.” 

He closes the cabinet sharply. “The least ya could do is try your best not to be a nuisance-” 

Osamu flinches at the slam of one of the office desk drawers, chest sinking when he sees the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The paper he needed is thrown on the desk carelessly as you shove your jacket on, wetness slipping down your cheeks.

“And I’m not your goddamn secretary. I’m heading home first.” 

“Y/N-” 

“And don’t worry, I promise I’ll manage to do this by myself somehow.” Your voice cracks bitterly, the bell by the door jingling mockingly in Osamu’s ears as you exit, the chef hanging his head with a sigh and regret tinging his chest.

He was wrong to pray this would blow over, not expecting to wake without your warmth by his side. You avoided him on the way to the restaurant, cleaning quietly while giving vague answers to his questions, shifting out of his attempts to embrace you with apologies. 

Deciding to give you space, he softly tells you to take the next few days off, unprepared for the tired look you had given him, simply nodding in response as you slipped into your side of the bed with your back turned to him.

“Where’s your pretty girlfriend?” 

“Fiance.” Osamu forces a smile at his two elderly regulars two days later, the wife’s smile widening at his correction. 

“Oho! Cherish each other while you youths still can, she really does brighten this place up, doesn’t she?” 

You do.

Osamu’s eyes feel hot as he does a messy job of cleaning up the restaurant, closing up shop early and stopping by your favorite bakery to pick up the ridiculously expensive cake he only ever buys for your birthday. 

Throwing the door open to your shared apartment hastily, you gasp at the gray-haired man’s sudden entry, dropping the spoon you were about to use to taste the dish you were making on the stove.

“Samu, y-you’re home early-” 

“What’s all this?” He tries to steady his breaths at the sight of a nicely prepared table, something you hardly ever got to share ever since the night shifts overtook your lives and caused a rift between the two of you. 

You’re silent for a second, looking away from his warm stare as you shift under his gaze. 

“...I miss you.” Dark eyes widen when you begin to hiccup over your words, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “But I didn’t wanna be a nusciance-”

“Oh god, darlin’ no.” You’re pulled tightly into his chest as you cry, whole body shaking with tremors as Osamu’s inner turmoil merely increases.

If Osamu could go back in time and punch himself he would, unknowing of the torment he caused you over the past few days, thinking you just needed space. 

“I want to marry ya Y/N, I’m so sorry.” 

“I love you so much Samu.” You sniffle into his chest, causing him to smile softly, a hand sifting through your hair to hold you tighter to him. 

“I brought cake.” 

You laugh through the onslaught of tears. 

“And I made dinner.” 

“Then what are we waitin’ for?” 

“Just hold me like this for awhile?”

“Y/N.” He kisses the top of your head, finally feeling at ease with your figure in his arms. Osamu whispers a confession he hardly shared with you, wanting those words in particular to be special as he bridged the gap between the two of you.

“I love ya so much more, don’t you go forgettin’ it.”

Kuroo Tetsurou

“I said I was sorry!” 

“Is sorry supposed to just fix everything, Tetsurou?” 

“Tetsurou? Are you seriously withholding me from my nickname privileges?” 

You cross your arms at his attempt to make you laugh, thoroughly angry with the mess your boyfriend made of things as his smile fades at your peeved stare. 

“Look, what was I supposed to do?” 

“How about not leaving my parents waiting for you at the restaurant that you invited them to for another one of your spontaneous volleyball practices?” 

“I texted you I had to cancel!” 

“That was a half hour before we were supposed to meet, Kuroo! They were so excited to meet you they got there early. God, why can’t you ever take things seriously?” 

“You’re right.” A bitter chuckle slips Kuroo’s lips as you falter at the sudden tone change, the volleyball gym seeming bigger than ever as his next sentence makes your lips tremble.

“Since I can’t ever take things seriously, then I must not need my serious girlfriend then, right?” Your eyes widen. “I can just find somebody else who won’t fucking hound me all the time.”

His cat-like eyes widen as the words slip his tongue, unintentionally coming out crueler than he intended. To make it worse, you simply stayed silent, your body physically backing down and away from him as you turned on your heel. 

“Wait, I didn’t-” 

“Do it then.” His chest just about shatters as your shoulders tremble, refusing to turn back around as your voice takes on an uncharasterically defeated tone. “I hope they make you fucking happy.” 

Kuroo runs a hand through his raven hair frustratedly at the way you rushed out of the gym, throwing a stray ball so hard at the wall before his vision becomes skewed with heat. 

He should have expected the next week to be utter hell. You left class before he could catch you by escaping to the bathroom with all your things, leaving school another way instead of the exit you always took together before he had to start club activities. 

“Kenma, what are you doing?” 

“You can’t come in here.” 

“I’m missing class for this. Let me through.” 

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Kenma shrugged, eyes on his handheld. “I told her I’d watch the door so you can’t surprise her during our breaktime.” 

“I’m her boyfriend. And you’re not her guarddog.” 

“No, I’m her friend.” Kenma’s eyes narrow at his childhood friend. “And last time I checked, you’re on the search for someone who isn’t her.” 

“So she told you.” 

“Dick move, by the way.” 

Kuroo’s calls go straight to voicemail, his emotions affecting his playing with each passing day. He leaves little notes in your shoe locker to meet him, heart sinking more and more with every time you stood him up. 

And it wasn’t until he saw you smiling again at a joke Yaku made that he truly felt like he was losing you. 

“Go home.” 

The sight wasn’t one you were expecting to see, Kuroo sitting on the steps to your house with his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, the dark bags under his eyes sparking worry within you. 

“It’s probably better if my parents don’t see you-” 

“I’m sorry.” His eyes seem to have lost a little of their glint, regret swimming in the tall boy’s pupils as your guard softens. “I’m so goddamn sorry I ran my mouth and said shit I didn’t even mean-” 

“Tetsurou-” 

“And I hurt you in the process. I hurt the one thing that matters to me the most, and I’m sitting here playing the creepy ex that stalks the girl he loves-” 

“You love me?”

“Doesn’t matter, does it? You’re done with me, and I deserve it-” 

He’s cut off with the sight of tears hitting the wood in front of him, lifting his head to see tears streaking down your cheeks. On instinct, he reaches out softly, rising to his feet to cup your cheek, astonished when you curl into his touch. 

“I’m so fucking mad at you right now.” 

“Noted.” Kuroo laughs somberly, a wave of emotion hitting him as you do something you hadn’t done in days. 

You look him in the eye, tugging him closer by the sides of his jacket. 

“But I love you too, you absolute idiot.” 

Kuroo grins into the kiss you press onto his lips, heart lifting in weight as he pulls you closer. 

“Does this mean we can go back to Tetsu?” 

“I’m going back to ignoring you-” 

“No.” Kuroo’s tone turns serious as he holds you a little tighter. “I can’t do that again.” 

You smile as he presses a kiss to your temple lovingly. 

“Being away from you was complete and utter hell, sweetheart.” 

Akaashi Keiji

“Tell me how to make this right.”

“Right, Y/N.” Akaashi refused to meet your eyes as he loosens his school tie, not slowing his pace for you to catch up with as he throws the doors open to the volleyball club. The usually put-together setter had an angry glint in his eye that silenced his awaiting teammates. “Let’s just go back in time before you agreed to be his partner.”

“Hey hey, what’s going on you two?” Bokuto jogs up, his worried tone making your lips tremble even more at the sight of Akaashi’s turned back.

“I came to you as soon as he made a move! I didn’t let him-”

“There shouldn’t have been an opportunity for him to make a move in the first place.” Akaashi’s jaw clenched as you shuffle in place.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, you think I wanted him to try to kiss me?!” You fight the waver in your voice, standing your ground. “It was a project for class. I didn’t know his intentions-“

“I told you what his intentions were, but you never listen.” Akaashi turns hastily, startling you and causing you to stumble slightly backwards into Bokuto.

“Akaashi-“

“Stop defending her. She never listens to me, and then comes crying to me when it turns out I’m right.” Akaashi snips at his best friend, ignoring the silent stares from his quiet teammates. “Why can’t you get it through your head, Y/N? I’m not your goddamn babysitter-“

“You’re right.” You interrupt, fingernails biting into your palms as you choke back a sob. “You’re not, you’re my boyfriend. I just wanted to respect you by coming to you with something like this, but it turns out I’m just a hinderance.”

Akaashi falters for a second, blue eyes widening a fraction at the angry heat that fills your eyes as regret begins to bubble in his stomach at his harsh words.

“Y/N-“

“Give me some space, Keiji.” You say softly, patting Bokuto’s arm to let you through as your shoulders sink in a defeated manner. “I promise I won’t come crying to you about anything else.”

Your steps echo as you walk out of the gym, Konoha breaking the silence first when the door shuts behind you.

“Hate to say it, but that was well-deserved, man.”

Akaashi closes his eyes, head falling back towards the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing, pretending like he wasn’t scared of you slipping through his fingers. He willed himself to not allow himself to chase after you, his anger directed towards you fading as he forces himself to respect your wishes. 

It was obvious you were avoiding him. Akaashi had blinked when Bokuto had self-proclaimed that he needed you as his “study buddy” during breaks when you weren’t even in the same year as the owlish boy. It got worse when you seemed to panic when Akaashi willed you to talk to him, eyes refusing to meet his watery blue ones as you pushed him further away.

So he gave you your space, wilting with each passing day. It wasn’t until he accidentally bumped into you a week later, the setter turning hastily on his heel to walk in the opposite direction before a soft tug on the back of his school shirt wills him to stop. 

“Keiji.” Your wobbly voice makes him turn back around immediately, a soft palm already cupping your cheek gently. “I’m s-” 

“I’m sorry for being cruel.” The words are whispered against your forehead, Akaashi’s heartstrings tugging in the worst way possible. “I was angry at the situation, my love. And that sorry excuse you call a classmate. Please,” 

His grip tightens just a little more as he feels wet warmth drip into the palm that was cupping your face.

“Forgive me.” 

“I told you I wouldn’t come crying to you-” 

“I want it all, Y/N.” Akaashi pulls back slightly, voice cracking slightly as blue stares intensely into your irises. “I want all of you. Tears included.”

You swat his chest playfully as Akaashi manages a soft smile, hand threaded through your hair as he presses you against his chest.

“Do you still need space?” He murmurs, and you smile at the sound of his hearbeat picking up as he awaited your answer fearfully. 

“Nope. The exact opposite, please hold me?” 

His embrace relaxes immediately, and your heart skips a beat at the sound of his relieved sigh, his slight nod making the weight lift off your chest. 

“Good, now I can take care of your classmate-” 

“Keiji-”

“Nope, my love.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, Akaashi’s eyes swirling with devotion. 

“No one gets to try anything with you so long as you’re safe with me.” 

Tsukishima Kei 

“So I’m the bad guy again.” 

“Do you want the honest answer, Kei?” You exhaustedly run a hand through your hair as Tsukishima’s scowl deepens, his long legs easily catching up with you in stride as he tugs on your wrist as the rambunctious court gets further and further away. 

“It’s not my fault you’re insecure.” 

You flinch. “Well maybe you shouldn’t let the girls in the stands cling to you after your matches. They were all over you, Tsukki! And you didn’t seem to mind it one bit.” 

“What?” Annoyance brims the blonde’s voice as he takes another step forward, clenching his jaw when he sees the quiver in your lip, distrust filling the atmosphere between the two of you. 

“Afraid that they’re prettier or better than you’ll ever be?” 

You feel as if the wind was knocked out of your lungs, breath catching in your throat at his insinuation. His guard slackens almost immediately, clicking his tongue before turning away, too proud to apologize for the words he regretted as soon as they slipped his tongue like venom. 

“Yeah.” You laugh humorlessly, making brown eyes dart over to your expression immediately. “You’re 100% correct. I am afraid you’ll find someone better than me in all aspects. Because I love you, you absolute asshole. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

The silence that befalls the two of you in the deserted hall is broken when you flinch away when Tsukishima tries to take a step towards you. 

“I didn’t-” 

“You never mean to do anything, Kei.” You say in a hushed tone, turning your back on him in an attempt to shield the hot tears slipping down your cheeks. “But you somehow always manage to.” 

The win for Karasuno didn’t mean much to the blonde that night, hoping that this would just go away and things would be back to normal. However, it was anything but. You didn’t look his way once in class, disappearing when it was over. Your voice trembled as you had avoided his seemingly stoic eyes through his frames, simply stating that you wished for some time away from him. 

He was fine. Or at least pretending to be on the outside. In truth, he would never find better, because you were it for him, words that you would never catch slipping his mouth. So he put on a front, pretending that your absence had zero effect on him whatsoever. Pretending the brush of your body against him in the hall as you pass each other didn’t make the blonde want to cave. 

It was the smile you shot at Hinata during one of your breaks that caused him to. The first glint in your eye in awhile, and it had been caused by him of all people, prompting the tall middle blocker to tug you by the forearm into the corridor.

“Tsukishima-” 

“I hate this.” 

You falter for a second, guard back up in a flash as your back touches the wall. “What did I do?” 

“You didn’t do anything, and it’s pissing me off.” 

“I don’t follow-” 

“I was wrong.” His forehead touches your shoulder as you stiffen before relaxing against his familiar touch. “I don’t care how many times I have to apologize. You win, okay? I’m sorry.” 

“This is a rather aggressive apology-” 

“Y/N.” Tsukishima lifts his head so it’s level with your height, unprepared for the way tears brimmed your eyes at the proximity, your guard diminishing. 

“What if you do find someone better one day, Tsukki?” Your voice cracks, inner fears trickling to the surface. “Do I need to prepare myself to lose you-?” 

You gasp as Tsukishima’s jaw ticks before kissing you intensely, his hand touching your lower back to pull you closer. 

“No. You don’t need to do something stupid like that.” His eyes were slightly glaring at you, a flush across both his cheeks. “Because there is no one better than you, okay?” 

It was your turn for heat to flood your cheeks as your eyes widen a fraction, his breath tickling your ear as you stutter. “Kei-” 

“I love you too. I said it, are you satisfied now?”  

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

General works: @takemetovalhalla  @faesbae  @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046   @let-me-have-my-own-name  @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite   @curiouslilbeast  @aprettyfruit   @wisepandaslimeland   @h0ngh0ngh0ng   @lmkjimin   @orangegiraffe7   @dai-tsukki-desu   @kac-chowsballs   @spikertrash   @yamaguwuchi   @lord-suneater-explosion   @holaaaf  @babyybokutoakaashi   @lexysclubhouse   @disneyloving-muggle   @kuuuuroo   @theonep1ece  @that-chick212  @mjoork

[mixedstyles]

Headcanon: Harry’s partner having curly hair

Masterlist

Author’s Note: WE. NEED. MORE. CURLY. HAIR. REPRESENTATION. as someone with 3a-3b curly hair, here are some headcanons. This is dedicated to all you curly headed cuties 😤

Pronouns Used: gender neutral! they/them

POV: Third Person.

Warnings: f-word, non-gendered use of “honey”

Additional Information: Harry is in italics. Reader is in bold.

divider is made by @firefly-graphics!

His partner finally moving in with him and they take up the whole middle shelf in the linen closet with their hair products. “I feel like I’ve walked into a hair salon” “Sometimes it feels like I could open my own store with how many hair products I’ve accumulated.”

His s/o being a little nervous to wear their bonnet or silk scarf in front of him for the first time. “Please don’t say anything.” “Uhhh okay?” *s/o walks out of the bathroom and into the bedroom* “Stop. You look absolutely adorable. Do I get one, too?”

“Why do you have so many different bottles of conditioner?” “That’s regular conditioner and that’s leave-in conditioner” “There’s a difference??”

Harry buying his partner a set of 100% silk pillow cases as a surprise gift because he knows they’ve been saving their money to upgrade their satin ones.

“I’m only now just using fancy pillowcases? Where have you been all my life?” “Are you talking to me or the pillow case?” “… both?”

*s/o comes back to their apartment fuming* “Today someone told me that my hair would look ‘less messy’ if I brushed it out and it really pissed me off.” “Oh honey, I’m sorry. Want me to sue them for idiocy?” “I don’t think that’s a thing, but I appreciate the support.”

A red carpet interviewer makes the casual comment of “your hair looks a bit curlier than normal, new hair routine?” And him answering with “you can thank my partner for that one, they’ve introduced me to the world of hair care and products.”

“What the fuck is this thing? It looks like some sort of sci-fi weapon.” “That’s literally a hair dryer with a diffuser on it.” “A what?” “Gosh, sometimes I feel like you’re a lost cause. It’s an attachment that reduces frizz and doesn’t ruin your natural curl pattern.” “I still think it’s a movie prop.”

I feel like if traveling takes him away from his s/o for a long time and he begins to miss them, he might go and buy/order their favorite hair product and use it on his hair because it smells like them 🥺🥲

His partner was never one for the spotlight, but once Harry’s fans began to ask him about which products he used, his partner made a public IG account dedicated to curly/wavy hair maintenance. As well as how to take care of your hair without needing expensive products.

They probably ended up as an accidental hair influencer because of it.

[mostlikelytofangirl]

How do you think things would have gone if JGY's father had actually loved him (we can assume the paternal instincts kick in a little while after they met)?

- Regular Anon

OMG literally everything would have been better XD.

We are gonna have to do some mental gymnastics here, but let's pretend that JGS is not that much of an awful human being, and while he is a cheater and whatever, he does care about his children.

So this kid appears at his door the day of his son's birthday, he claims to be his son too, and while JGS is wary bc he's still a manwhore in this AU, he does let him in to listen to what he has to say and... everything adds up. The pearl, the place, the timeline, even some physical ressemblance. Yes, this scrawny boy is his son.

Cue parental instincts kicking in.

This MY kid had just lost his mother, is obviously malnourished in some way and definitely has had it rough. We can't have that for a child of Jin descent! He quickly instructs the servants to run a bath for the boy, get him proper clothes and feed him. JGS goes to rejoin the celebration bc he's not dumb enough to cause a scene during the party. Once it is over, MY is taken to him again, JZX is confused bc this is not the horse he expected as gift; instead, his dad goes full Happy Birthday, son! Your present this year is a brother :D.

It's all a mess; Madam Jin is outraged, JZX is... still confused, MY is a little scared. But his father stands between him and his raging wife. MY is as much his son and JZX, they were even born on the same day, but to placate Madam Jin, it is agreed that JZX will be treated like the first born and totally still the heir. And that's how MY's birthday gift was a father and a gege and a new home and name: Jin Ziyao.

That evening little JZY is given everything his mother promised he would get: a big, warm bedroom all for himself, nice expensive clothes, servants at his disposition. He cries at how overwhelming it all is and how much he wished his mother would be with him, but he is also so, so happy and so grateful to his father, who sits with him that night, trying to sooth him and ease him into his new life. His new family needs a time of adjustment, he explains, but he can be friends with JZX and Madam Jin is not going to hurt him bc his father won't let her. JGS tells him of the things they'll have to check on the next day: making the addition of Second Young Master Jin official and public, start a proper education and training... all things JZY is excited for and promising to do his best to honor his new family.

JZY sticks to his father like glue whenever he is not busy with his new tutors and instructors. JGS notices that sadly his new son started cultivation a bit too late (not as late as canon so he still gets stronger here), but he is amazing at administrative functions. JGS knows an asset when he sees it, and while he's not going to stop JZY's tratining as a proper cultivator, he does shifts his education into a more scholar and state focused one. JZX might be the golden boy of Lanling, but JZY is extremely capable and will be the perfect political right hand for his brother. JZY is more similar to JGS than JZX anyways: cunning, diplomatic, practical. JGS may have a bit of a soft spot for him.

Slowly, JZX and JZY start to warm up to each other too (more like JZY doing the heavy lifting of pushing through JZX's awkwardness and peacock attitude), and JZX eventually realizes that his new didi is better company that his brute cousins —he even stands up to those when they bully JZY. Madam Jin is another whole story, but apart from being nasty to him, she at least can't lay a finger on the boy. JZY calls her mother through his teeth and would make absolutely sure to never be alone with her.

When he grows up, he goes to Gusu with JZX, and he's in charge of not letting JZX get in troubles with his poor interpersonal skills; however, thanks to JZY's influence at home, there's minimal problems with other boys. The Yunmeng bros still dislike JZX on principle, but they become friends with JZY super quick, with him being from Yunping and the only one capable of stomach their spicy ass food. NHS instantly adopts him as gege too bc JZY is legit interested in the arts as well and is willing to side with him and give in to his whining. While he does tag along and has fun with the other young masters, JZY also puts special attention to his education. LQR loves him, that's his best student in a very long time, and never has he been happier to write to JGS to sing JZY's praises.

Bc they have their birthday on the same day, ppl often ask if they are actual twins. JZY is, at first glance, the most qualified, why isn't he the heir. But that's something JZY never considered. He already has everything he wants, his brother was raised for it since he was born, and he has the charisma and character of a leader, he just needs to mature. It's his birthright as legitimate son, JZY would never take that from his Xuan-gege. JZY knows his father expects him to be the diplomatic arm of Lanling, to support his brother and work together for the glory of the Jin clan, and JZY is nothing but a filial son.

War happens, and both JZX and JZY are comanding the Jin forces. JZY stages an entire fall out with his family, makes gossip flow about a power struggle (why should JZX be heir?) So he can put on an entire lie for the Wen and allow him to infiltrate. He wins them the war.

3zun sworn brotherhood still happens bc his time as a brilliant student in Gusu made him befriend LXC back then. Out of sheer luck, JZY was visiting Yunping/SiSi around the time LXC was on the run, he still saved him. Through NHS and LXC he met NMJ, who was impressed by how a brat almost his brother's age was so capable and smart. During the war, the three of them were an amazing team of power and strategy.

Now. Bc JGS has good and safe plans for both his sons here, he doesn't use JZY for his schemes, he cannot risk the life or reputation of the son who actually has a head for politics. However, JZY is too smart to not know the kind of stuff his father is doing, and he can't ignore how it all will turn into bad news sooner rather than later. As Second Young Master Jin (with actual backing from his father), he outranks Jin Zixun, and sees that prisoners camp issue in private, listening to what the cultivation world has to say about it. He stops the abuse of the Jin soldiers and put the prisoners at the disposition of the sects. Yunmeng Jiang takes them in. Which score them points for the engagement, win-win. Also whatever issue the Nie have with it, that's between them now.

To placate his father's ambition tho, he puts extra effort into gaining the Jin sect a good reputation among sects big and small, being charming and an excellent man in negotiations (he may or may not have tweaked some things in the Jin's favor, but nothing's perfect lol)

JZX married, JZY still organized the wedding but with actual authority. He was one of the first to hold JL when he was born.

Bc he was fighting on the Jin front, he never met Qin Su outside of political gatherings. They never fell in love, and Qin Su never knew of who her real father was, but she didn't need to bc she already had a good father.

Eventually, JGS discovered another son of his. He brought him to Koi Tower right away and treated him just like he had treated JZY; MXY's young mother became a concubine since she came from a good family. The boy was renamed Jin Ziyu and he followed both his two gege like a duckling, playing with JL and letting Yanli-jiejie help him with make-up.

When the XY issue happened, JZY didn't know why his father kept the guy, and JGS didn't tell him either. Since the Burial Mounts siege never happened, there was... not much of a reason to keep him around despite his demonic cultivation; there wasn't WWX legacy for XY to work with bc WWX was still very much alive and spoiling JL rotten. So, for the sake of peace with the Nie, JGS let JZY convince him to depose of him, even letting NMJ do the honors (Sorry XY!! I just don't know how to make you fit here orz).

He still was in charge of retrieving his father from brothels and do damage control bc he's the most filial son. But other than dragging his old man's drunk ass back home at 2 am, calling for Xuan-gege and A-Yu for help bc JZY is still the shortest brother, he would live the happy and safe life of a Second Young Master, never again knowing of hunger and cold and humiliation bc his father had many, many flaws, but always did right by him, and A-Yao never doubted his love.

... someone plz write this now, I made myself sad.

[dudeandduchess]

Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 3]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married. To make matters even more difficult for them, they were from two different walks of life, with (Y/n) being the Prime Minister’s daughter, and Kyōjurō being the heir to his clan’s Yakuza group.

Note: Kyō’s second to the last line was from Biz; from one of our jam sessions. So, I can’t take credit for that. 😂

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Teasing, Orgasm Denial

Chapter 1| Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

***

To say that the press had a field day— as soon as the news of (Y/n) and Kyōjurō being engaged— was an understatement. It was absolute pandemonium outside the Prime Minister’s residence, as well as the Rengoku estate in Setagaya; cameras everywhere, people shouting questions at anyone and everyone who would pass them by.

But all of it got even wilder when Kyōjurō made an appearance at the Prime Minister’s home; carrying a large bouquet of flowers, with a very obvious— and eye-catching— bag from one of the most expensive jewelry stores in the country.

If he was trying to bait the press into taking a keen interest on him and (Y/n), then he had done a foolproof plan. That much was obvious, from the charming smirk that graced his lips as the guards tried to keep the press back from the closing gates.

And, as if to bait them even further, he lifted a hand up— giving them a brief wave through the slats in the wrought iron gate, before turning around and walking up the steps that led to the front door of the estate.

Meanwhile, (Y/n) wasn’t one bit thrilled at the cacophony of people that had been camping outside since yesterday. She had her arms crossed over her chest, if only to make herself feel a little more grounded.

She was used to being in front of cameras and being the center of attention, but only when it came to charity work and the like; never when people were actually interested in her, per se.

But she couldn’t do anything about it; not even if she opposed the engagement. Because she didn’t want to be the cause of her father’s disappointment; that or her family’s downfall, as she was sure that the Rengokus would expose the deal that Yorihiko had made with them to get the Prime Minister position.

That wouldn’t bode well for her, nor her family.

“Hello, baby.” (Y/n) jumped in surprise at the feel of a warm pair of lips just against the skin below her ear. She had no doubt that had she worn one of her regular shirts— and not a turtleneck sweater, to hide the love bites that adorned her skin— then she would have felt those lips latching on to that one spot on her neck that made her moan.

She and Kyōjurō hadn’t even known each other very long, but it scared and thrilled her that he was coming to know her body so quickly. And why she was so against him getting to know her body even further… was all because he scared her.

Not in the sense that he would hurt her, but in the sense that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. That much was obvious, as they had met under such… lustful circumstances.

The young woman then whirled around, with one hand lifting itself up and touching the tips of her fingers to the now warm spot— which Kyōjurō had just kissed. They were standing too close for her comfort, so she also found herself taking a tentative step back, before asking, “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I see my future wife?” The blond teased with a bright grin, before stepping forward and closing the minute gap between them. That had their chests pressed together once more, which he enjoyed immensely; especially as he felt her nipples beginning to harden right beneath her clothes.

“No.”

At that, a hearty laugh escaped from the blond’s lips, just as he lifted the bouquet of flowers up to the side of his head; showing (Y/n) that he hadn’t gone to see her empty-handed. “Don’t be so mean, sweetheart. I might just… I don’t know, fuck you right against that wall as punishment.”

His words sent a warm tingle racing all the way down (Y/n)’s spine; making her suppress her visible shudder as much as possible, right as she finally took a couple of steps away from Kyōjurō.

However, before he could trap her against the wall and his body— like he had done the day before— the young woman quickly rounded him and traipsed over to the empty couch; where she then sat down. As a precaution, she crossed her legs at the ankles, and sat sideways; as if she were at a meeting with one of her father’s esteemed guests, instead of in one of the mansion’s reception areas with her future husband.

“Don’t be so cold to your husband, baby,” Kyōjurō teased once more, his grin widening as he followed the young woman’s movements. But, instead of sitting down next to her on the couch, he sat down right on the edge of the coffee table; laying the bouquet right next to him so fluidly that it all seemed choreographed.

(Y/n)’s heart began to pound at that, and even more so when Kyōjurō leaned forward; forearms on the tops of his legs, and their knees barely brushing against each other’s’. Then, slowly, she felt his hands begin to brush against her skin; light and gentle movements at first— as if he was teasing her— before they outright curled around her legs, and slid up so close to where her modest, knee-length skirt had ridden up.

“You’re not my husband. What are you doing?” (Y/n) hissed out in a whisper, not even bothering to hide the surprise and mild hostility in her tone. Especially when the blond only smirked up at her, before pushing the hem of her skirt up even further.

Wordlessly, Kyōjurō just shrugged, before sliding off the table and getting down on his knees in front of (Y/n). He then maneuvered his hands to push her legs apart, as he wedged himself in between them before she could close them back up.

“I’m asking you again, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Showing you some love. Anything wrong with that, baby?” The blond asked, right before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of the young woman’s left thigh.

Completely bewildered, (Y/n) tried to pry his hands off of her thighs— especially when Kyōjurō began to push her skirt up even more; exposing her panties to him, and having his fingers slide beneath the elastic at her hips.

“No shorts underneath? How bold, (Y/n)…” His tone was joking, but the lust in his eyes were clear as day as he looked right up at (Y/n).

The mere mention of her name rolling off of his tongue had her biting down on her tongue; if only to keep herself from feeding into what he wanted and moaning softly.

However, a gasp of surprise passed her lips when Kyōjurō pulled her hips right to the edge of the couch; right before he boldly pressed his lips to the crotch of (Y/n)’s panties. And before she could push his head away, he snaked his tongue out between his lips and began to lick her pussy right through the thin cloth.

“People are going to come in!” The young woman whisper-yelled, but made no move to stop him; especially as he pulled her underwear to the side, before gliding the flat of his tongue up her slit.

Her reaction pleased the Rengoku immensely though, as she made no mentions of wanting him to stop; only that people might see them. That gave him an inkling that she felt the same attraction towards him, as he did for her.

“I told them to give us some privacy,” He answered with a smirk, just as he pressed his mouth right against her cunt; licking up and down her slit, before taking her clit into his mouth and nipping at it with his teeth.

That had (Y/n)’s hips jerking in pleasure and surprise, especially as her fiancé paid more attention to her sensitive clit. Every pass of his tongue against the little nub had her gasping softly, and eventually throwing her head back against the back of the couch— succumbing to the pleasure coursing through her entire body, even though a part of her kept telling her that what they were doing wasn’t appropriate at all.

But that all took the back seat, as the blond’s left hand snaked its way down to cup her pussy; letting his fingers tease her entrance, while Kyōjurō pulled back a little to admire the way that he was spreading her wetness around her needy cunt.

“Fuck, baby, I can’t wait to fuck this pretty little cunt.” With those words hanging in the air, Kyōjurō spread (Y/n)’s lips with two fingers, before slowly sliding his middle finger inside her; watching her face, as her eyes closed in bliss— with her lips parting in a silent moan.

That had him feeling so hot and needy for her; even more than before. But he knew that he had to wait, at least until their wedding night— if only to tease her to the point where she was the one who initiated things between them.

Slowly, he began pumping his finger inside her; curling it up against her g-spot and watching her back arch up so beautifully in pleasure. He then leaned his head back down and wrapped his mouth around her clit once more, relishing in the soft gasps and moans escaping (Y/n)’s lips— even as she tried to muffle them by pressing the back of her hand against her lips.

And when he added another finger to the one inside her tight pussy, he felt her legs tense on either side of him; which he took as a sign to start fucking her even faster— to the point where she was subtly bucking her hips against his face. So shameless, and all because of him.

He loved making her so helplessly needy like that.

“You want my cock, baby?” Kyōjurō couldn’t help but ask; feeling a little bit of his pettiness— from her earlier quip about him not being her husband— bubble up within him. “You want me to fuck you hard right here?”

“…yes, please.”

Instead of giving in to her plea, however, he curled his fingers against her g-spot one more time, before pulling his fingers right out of her; then looked right into her eyes as he brought the digits to his mouth so he could suck them clean.

And, with a smug grin, he stated, “Sorry, baby, but my cock is wifey privileges.”

“What the…” (Y/n) hissed, sitting upright and glaring down at the grinning man right between her legs. She pursed her lips at first, wanting to tell him that that wasn’t what he would have said when they first met, but deciding that that would make her sound nothing more than a sore loser. So, she went with what she could do, curse him: “Fuck you.”

“Maybe on our honeymoon, sweetheart.” With that, Kyōjurō blew her a playful kiss, feeling her glare get even hotter as her eyes narrowed on him.

He was sure then, that if only looks could kill, he’d have been on the ground the moment he stopped fucking her with his fingers. But he had to admit, she looked so cute when she was mad.

[17tetsuro]

could u do fake dating headcanons where they slowly fall for u w atsumu, kenma & oikawa,, gn pronounces are fine :)

haikyuu boys slowly falling for you (fake dating edition) (gn!reader)

feat: atsumu, kenma, oikawa

warnings: fake dating, abuse of cliche tropes and commas and question marks, timeskip setting because im anything but creative, swearing

requests are open!

a/n: thank you for requesting this!! i hope you like it :D

atsumu

* you’ve been friends with him ever since high school and you watched his career grow

* youre both equally proud of each other n your friendship is built on mutual respect, trust and love

* you basically live in his apartment, with how much time you spend over there

* he would complain 24/7 about not having anyone to go to events with

* at one point you wanted to strangle him for never shutting up about it so you propose you go with him from time to time

* atsumu: “yeah, that was a setup”

* he KNOWS you’re drop dead gorgeous and everyone will be jealous of him that you’re with him (and you also look very good in formalwear, which he very much enjoys)

* and you get to have free food and drinks and also wear immaculate expensive clothes

* so,, you became his regular date for sponsorship events and stuff

* and you never really outright said you were just friends?? so you’re used to the media portraying you two as lovers but your close circle is aware that your relationship is platonic

* everything was going great until one of his sponsor company’s heir started hitting on you

* atsumu saw you flirting with the person and his mind went blank

* he,, he didn’t understand why he wanted to commit multiple crimes on the spot

* bokuto conveniently showed up next to atsumu at that moment

“hey, atsumu? why is your date flirting with them?” bokuto asked, suddenly appearing next to atsumu, which startled the latter out of his thoughts.

a better question would be why atsumu saw red at the thought of you getting friendly with anyone but him that night. he tried his best to keep his composure, but it was hard when you rested a hand on the heir’s shoulder, leaning your head back while laughing.

“atsumu, are you not going to answer me? your lover is-“

“my what?” atsumu asked, attention now completely off you.

“your lover? is that a term you don’t like? i could say partner... significant other... or anything you want, really,” bokuto answered, apologizing.

“you- you think me and (y/n) are together?”

“aren’t you? what, with the way you look at each other i was convinced you two were like... high school sweethearts or something, who hate pda,” bokuto explained, while atsumu’s eyes trailed back to you.

“you think... you think they’d wan’ me?”

“are you blind, buddy?”

you must have sensed their gazes, because as soon as those words left bokuto’s mouth, your eyes snapped towards atsumu and bokuto. the latter started waving with a cheerful smile while the former just stood, entranced by you and your presence. atsumu noticed traces of confusion appearing on your face, and watched as you excused yourself from the conversation you were previously interested in.

“‘tsumu, are you alright?” you questioned, approaching the pair. bokuto grinned and left, which made you even more confused.

“yeah, i’m fi- fine. hey, uh, (y/n), say... do you- why did you offer to come to these events as my date?” atsumu asked, eyes dead set on yours. you cracked a confused smile. you seemed to be capable of nothing but confusion at the moment.

“because you’re my best friend and i hated to see you so down because of your loneliness at these gatherings,” you replied, holding his gaze. “why didn’t you oppose it?”

his eyes studied you and when he saw nothing but sincerity, he let out a loud sigh. this was all very new and confusing to him. it’s like bokuto calling you atsumu’s lover set off a bomb inside his head that instead of causing a mess, made everything fall into place; why his gaze seemed to linger on you more often than before, why he was so eager to choose your outfits for these events, why he went to parties he didn’t even have to attend, why he got so jealous and angry when he saw you with the cute heir.

“holy shit,” he breathed and ran his hands through his hair, letting out a nervous chuckle and lowering his gaze to the ground. “holy shit.”

“you look like you’ve been enlightened, and i love that for you, but ‘tsumu, i’m still very confused.”

“i’m in love with you,” he said in disbelief, and quickly snapped his eyes back to your face when he realized he said it out loud. “i- i mean- i’m not in love with you, no way in hell, you’re- you’re my best friend, you- you smack my head whenever i say somethin’ inappropriate, you keep me from underminin’ myself, you always lift my spirits and for fuck’s sake, please, stop lookin’ at me like that because i will be getting hopeful and if you’re just joking, i will never hear the end of it and-“

you finally hd enough of his rambling and cut him off with a kiss. at first he froze, but seconds later he melted into your embrace, hands sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer.

when your lips separated, atsumu gasping for air after his word vomit and the long kiss you shared, you spoke up. “miya atsumu, you’re a real dumbass, you know that?”

his breath hitched and you kept quiet for a second to let him suffer a bit.

“but you’re my dumbass. i love you, you absolute piece of work.”

atsumu honest to god giggled and leaned in for another kiss, which you gave him without hesitation.

somewhere in the room, bokuto was collecting the money sakusa promised to give him if he got you two to kiss.

kenma

* kenma and you are both twitch streamers with similar content so you knew of each other but weren’t properly introduced

* until one of your mutual friends invited you both to stream among us with them

* you obv accepted

* so during the 3 hr stream, you and kenma were imposters together a lot and had the biggest, most twisted imp plays

* a friendly competition broke out at one point, too, trying to see who exposed the most impostors between the two of you

* your fans ate your dynamic up

* from then on, you two interacted more and started to appear in each others’ streams

* kenma even invited you to his minecraft smp

* you became besties basically

* SO

* all fun and games

* and then a huge sponsorship opportunity rolled in

* and the people at the company assumed you were dating

* uh oh

* you couldnt just tell them they have it wrong bc the whole thing depended on your relationship

* so

* big brain kenma suggest you two start to “date”

* you were against deceiving your followers but kenma assured you you could have a public breakup and tell everyone you were better off as friends

* so you reluctantly agreed

* it was only for two months anyways, what could go wrong?

* both of you, on week 3, in separate discord calls: uh oh, im in l*ve

* you both tried to cope (read: repress everything) but the realization on both of your parts threw your dynamic off a bit and fans have noticed

* so you had to do something abt it

* so kenma suggested you try your hand at a minecraft challenge together

* it was all fun and games until it wasnt

* you somehow ended up flirting back and forth ????

* chat was goin crazy, even in sub only mode

* both of you: ha ha im in danger

* when the stream ended, you stayed on call, because that was a routine you stuck to no matter what

“so... how are you doing?” you asked kenma, trying to clear the awkwardness from the air.

“good.”

maybe you should have taken kenma’s refusal to talk about anything into account when initiating conversation.

kenma, on the other end of the call was anxiously playing with his fingers, trying to figure out if his chat was right, and you were indeed flirting with him. and him with you. god.

“hey, y/n,” kenma said after a while, “were you flirting with me?”

his bluntness startled you and you had to mute yourself for a few seconds while you collected yourself.

“is there a correct answer?” you asked hesitantly.

“yes.”

“oh... uhm, maybe? it wasn’t intentional. or maybe it was, subconsciously, i don’t know,” you admitted quietly.

“good. it was intentional on my part, i think,” and okay, that was not the reply you expected to hear.

“really?”

“yeah, i- i like you i guess,” he said, sounding more confident by the minute. “do you like me too?”

“i- yeah. i do. i like you, kenma,” you replied, sighing a breath of relief. it felt good to admit it aloud to him.

“do you- would you maybe want to come over?” he asked sheepishly, which made absolutely no sense because he sounded so confident a second ago. “we could play mario kart?”

you let the beaming smile you were holding back take over your face. “i’ll be there in 10, kenma.”

“i’ll be waiting for you.”

oikawa

* on god mans hated your guts

* like,, okay, you were iwa’s close friend but you were so annoyingly honest all the time

* it drove him mad

* what also drove him mad is the fact that you loved to tease him

* no matter what the circumstance, whether he was in japan or in argentina, you always found a way to make him blush

* okay so maybe hate is a strong word, because he kind of thought you were pretty, but in a platonic way

* dumbass

* iwa always give both of you shit for not liking each other

* so you came up with a big brain idea

* you: ”oikawa! we should date!”

* oikawa: “what”

* after you explained the concept of fake dating to him and its benefits (which included a staged dramatic breakup, giving you both a reason to hate each other without iwa complaining)

* he was totally down

* iwa, when he first saw you holding hands: “i knew it”

* SO!! thus began weeks of pretending to be in love with each other for the sake of iwa

* which turned from pretending to not pretending real quick for your liking

* falling in love with oikawa was not a plan of yours

* (falling in love with you wasn’t his, either)

* with iwa’s constant nagging of “i knew it, you both were head over heels for each other from the moment you met”, the time for the breakup came quicker than expected (maybe you both had enough. so what.)

* you agreed to do it in front of iwa so he could see it happen

* you chose a mcdonalds parking lot, because then you could storm off and iwa would follow you to make sure you were ok and oikawa could go home and sleep

* maybe winging it was not the best idea

“babe,” you said with venom, “haven’t i told you a thousand times that i do not want to hear about your exes? seriously, it’s like the only thing you talk about,” you complained, as your fake-boyfriend took a sip from his drink.

“well, babe,” his tone matching yours, “i would shut up about them if took the hint sometimes. maybe i don’t like going to the movies as much as you seem to, it’s boring,” he rolled his eyes, subtly glancing at iwa, who looked very uncomfortable third wheeling your argument. good

“jerk. i don’t even want to go to the movies that much, asshole,” you spat, crushing your empty cup in your hand.

“oh, you want to go to the movies plenty. face it, (y/n), you’re boring. no wonder you didn’t have a boyfriend before me,” he replied and his words, even though you knew were fake, still hit hard and you couldn’t help the tears gathering in your eyes.

“okay, then, thanks for these wonderful past few weeks, so glad you decided to take pity on me.” you tried to keep acting, encouraging yourself with the fact that if oikwa meant what he said, you wouldn’t have to talk to him if iwaizumi finally saw you two break up.

you expected a lot of things, but genuineness in oikawa’s eyes was not one of them.

“(y/n), i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that,” oikawa pleaded, clearly forgetting about your mutual goal.

with a mumbled whatever, you started walking home, letting the sunset wash over your face. when you knew you were out of sight, you sat down on a bench and just started crying.

you don’t know how much time passed, but you heard a voice behind you speak up.

“hey (y/n).”

“what the fuck do you want, oikawa? to rub in the fact that my first boyfriend was just faking it so his best friend would get off his back? leave me alone, jerk,” you said, trying to wipe your tears away.

“i- i didn’t mean it like that, please, believe me,” he replied, taking a seat next to you. you scooted away from him. he sighed.

“why would i believe you? why do you want to make up, anyways? this fight was pretty real, no way iwaizumi didn’t believe it,” you sniffed.

“because maybe... maybe i was very happy about the fact that i could be your boyfriend, even if it was fake. maybe i’m in love with you,” he said softly, leaning towards you.

“please, stop playing games. it’s over,” you replied, trying very hard to ignore the raw emotion in his voice as he spoke.

“i really am, (y/n). i wasn’t at first, i admit it, but now i am. i love you, please, believe me,” he begged and you finally made eye contact with him. eyes were mirrors of the soul, after all.

you studied his face for a few minutes, looking for anything that could indicate he was trying to pull a shit prank on you, but you found nothing.

“asshole. maybe i’m in love with you too, what would you do if i said that?” you asked, wiping your nose with your sleeves.

“kiss you.”

“do it, then, i guess. but you’re still not completely forgiven.”

“what do i have to do to earn your forgiveness, (y/n)?” he asked and you sent him a mischievous smile.

“take the blame for this whole fiasco with iwaizumi.” he froze at your words and visibly gulped, but nodded nonetheless.

“okay, i will. can i kiss you now?”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah.”

and he did.

[3wisellamas]

More Boxbot / Voxman Family Headcanons, Jumbo Bonus Edition!

Because I'm still here, dangit!

-Shannon's holographic "phone" is an actual thing that people in the OK KO universe have, but usually it comes built into a watch rather than their wrist. It's a super-expensive model, that she likes to show off to her siblings who are still stuck with regular smartphones.

-Since Ernesto is hollow, he likes to hide things from his siblings inside himself, and forgets about them. It's not an uncommon occurrence for him to split apart during a plaza fight only for confiscated magazines to spill out, or for the Bodegamen to explode him and have snacks fall out like a robot piñata.

-It's also the best hiding place for his diary. Which the Bodegamen always return to him at Boxmore, after reading it cover to cover (and even writing feedback in the margins) of course.

-ALL of the robots have issues sometimes with thinking out loud, and even blurting out embarrassing things or straight-up Boxmore corporate secrets -- the bigger the hivemind, the more likely this is to happen, with Darrell and Ernesto being the worst offenders. With hundreds of mouths to keep shut, sometimes they just miss one.

-Things the Boxbots are forbidden from eating/drinking, since they can melt, get stuck in their inner workings, or otherwise cause serious malfunctions: Marshmallows, chocolate, peanut butter, all varieties of cheese, WD-40, lit matches, dish soap, gummy worms, live worms (Raymond found this one out the hard way on a dare), live birds (ditto for Mikayla), glue, wet cement, broken glass, water.

-Things the Boxbots will eat/drink anyway, and just reboot themselves right after: All of the above.

-The main exception to this is the peanut butter -- Professor Venomous is allergic to peanuts, just like his son, and Boxman threw out everything in the factory containing them the day he moved in. The bots all miss their peanut butter and (petroleum) jelly sandwiches, but not enough to potentially hurt their stepdaddy!

-(They do still keep one last jar of the stuff hidden in their playroom, however, just in case. And so does Boxman, in his office.)

-Also, Mikayla doesn't care what it does to her, she LOVES chocolate -- it's her catnip.

-Mr Logic likes hip hop, and will actually get up on stage and freestyle sometimes when he and Gar go to open mic nights together. He's surprisingly good at it!

-Since he's just as embarrassed about his human feet as Shannon, if not more so, Darrell's got an extensive collection of cute patterned socks to cover them up, and wears a different pair underneath his boots every day that NO ONE is allowed to see but him. His favorite pair have tiny horses on them.

-The robots all wake up at 6AM, on the dot. They have to, in fact, since it's programmed into them -- they're physically incapable of sleeping in, though they can take short naps in the afternoon. They're also programmed to start feeling sleepy at 10PM, though their bedtime is a couple of hours earlier, and they are able to stay up if needed (for instance, if Boxman decides to do a late-night plaza attack...)

-And that line about having to "recharge every night" was accurate -- glorbs naturally replenish their spent energy when not in use, so the robots need to get a full nights' sleep every night or their glorbs could eventually burn out on them!

-Boxman also gets up at 6, or around there, because he MUST crow at the sunrise, every morning. Raymond sometimes joins him.

-Darrell gets migraines, a side effect of having to convert and process all of his electronic thoughts on an organic brain. There's an entire protocol to swap him out for Shannons and Raymonds on the factory floor so he can shut down his hivemind and rest -- however, it can be tough to get him to admit he's in pain and to stop trying to work through it. (He hates the idea of his family having to go through so much trouble for him...)

-When PV found out, as a fellow migraine sufferer, he and Darrell actually bonded over it, and he got a little less resistant to taking "sick days" with his stepdaddy's encouragement.

-After he was upgraded to a robo-adult, Ernesto started refusing to celebrate his birthday, so that the other three quadruplets could have it all to themselves. However, they'll always throw him a small surprise party of his own a week later.

-For their dad's birthday one year, the bots got him a pet goldfish, since he used to be so into aquatic creatures. Boxman ADORED that fish, even if he claimed otherwise, and gave it the prettiest tank decor and fanciest fishy flakes he could. However, sadly, it didn't last long, with the robots doing the cleaning and water changes for him -- fish and rust don't mix. ;-;

-Though it's INCREDIBLY humiliating for them, you can in fact plug all six of the bots into a wall outlet if there aren't any glorbs available for them to run off of. Except for Mikayla, their AC adaptors are sold separately.

-Fink keeps trying to flush cherry bombs down the Boxmore toilets, Bart Simpson-style. It helps that she can just escape down them into the pipes if she gets caught (though, she's also blown herself up this way once or twice...)

-Leggy Jethro did eventually trust all his siblings enough to let them know he was still around, and they helped hide him from Boxman, reattached his limbs, invited him to their dance parties (the one in The KO Trap was him), and even got him out of there when things started getting bad with Shadowy -- though, since all they did was shove him into a waste pipe during one of their stepdaddy's and stepbrother's rampages, they never were sure if he made it or not until he showed up with Boxman at the Plaza Tournament.

-Post-reset, he's allowed to openly be himself as a member of the family! No labor uprisings or union talk at the dinner table, though.

-This was originally posted by someone else, but I love it so I'm stealing it: "Deathro" from Thank You For Watching the Show is actually just Jethro's edgy robo-teen phase. It lasted only a week before everyone else got sick of it, just like Ernesto's.

-The Boxman family is Corn-tholic (Corn Catholic), though Boxman himself doesn't really practice it too seriously. In fact, he didn't practice at all until the kids came along, and he started going to Corn Church again for them.

-He dragged PV along with the rest of the family one week, but the whole "corn-fessing your sins" aspect didn't go too well for our favorite professor, who already has problems facing and dealing with his checkered past...

-The robots are EXTREMELY multilingual, since they can just switch their language settings. However, Shannon and Raymond did try to legitimately learn French together once, though they eventually gave up. The only thing they can really say is "omelette du fromage."

-Sadly, this does not include sign language for the four original bots, though Raymond and Mikayla were updated to include it, and they'll sign to each other to in order to speak privately or hide things from / trash-talk their older siblings.

-Lord Boxman has no idea where Darrell got the Daddy belt, and it haunts him, as does whether his innocent baby boy knows the full meaning behind it. Darrell actually pulled it out of Boxman's old college stuff -- there may or may not have been a LOT of alcohol consumed the night he procured that belt, and he'd long since forgotten it.

-And Darrell does know exactly what it means. The fact that everyone, especially his dad, expects Darrell to act an innocent baby boy forever due to his personality, and expresses shock whenever he displays knowledge or behavior more appropriate to the teenager/young adult he is, really annoys him sometimes. Not that he'll voice his complaints, especially not to his father, but he does rebel in small ways, like his graffiti habit, and brute-forcing his way past the parental block on the TV to watch the PG-13 movie channels. (He absolutely can say fuck, and in fact has done so in private, he just chooses not to.)

-After he and Boxman reconnected, Mr Logic did eventually start visiting his family at Boxmore again, though only on rare/special occasions. And after a LOT of time and consideration, he agreed to let Boxman perform a few upgrades, and bring his construction more in line with the newer robots.

-Logic refuses to have a hivemind set up, though, or any copies of himself made, not even just as a safety precaution in case he's ever damaged or destroyed.

-Boxman made a copy of Logic anyway, and a backup of his memory during one upgrade, and just never told him about it. It's set to activate if something ever does happen to the original Mr Logic, even long after Boxman retires.

-Shannon LOVES roller blading, but is banned from every skating rink in the Neutral Zone, since she keeps trying to use her saws instead of actual skates.

-There's a villain-oriented equivalent to Sidekick Scouts, for minions-in-training, that PV took Fink to a few times, before she decided her own style of minion-ing was superior.

-She first learned how to blackmail people from their annual cookie drives, and even got a badge for it!

-In addition to robots, Boxman is a HUGE car guy, and can give you engine specs on any make/model from memory, as well as ways to tweak them for maximum horsepower. He originally went to Evil Engineering College for automotive stuff, but switched to robotics instead.

-He's actually trying to pass on his mechanic skills to Darrell, who he trusts to do all his own car's upkeep as well as that of the Boxmore trucks, and Raymond, who...can barely change a tire. (He tries, he really does, but it's just not going well in his case)

-Raymond actually does have his motorcycle from that one mobile game, and enjoys riding around the Danger Zone! However, since he stinks at maintaining it, it's almost always breaking down, and he keeps having to go to either his dad or Darrell to fix it.

-He passes it down to Robbie later on, who thankfully DID get the Mechanic Skills. ;v;

-Ernesto once tried to teach PV how to make a spreadsheet in Excel. He somehow managed to crash the entire factory computer system, including poor Ernesto's hivemind server, while trying to add two cells together.

[apiratewhopines]

Thanks again to @teamhook for the artwork and being the muse for this one! You wanted a movie fic and I did my best 🙂

Midnight

Chapter 7 — The Slipper

Summary: In which our heroine resets the clock

Chapter 7 on AO3 (That’s all folks!!)

“You’ll never know

How many dreams I dreamed about you”

-It’s Been a Long, Long Time, Bing Crosby

It was receiving the invitation to Arthur and Guinevere’s second wedding that did it. Emma’s fairy godfather stayed in touch after their weekend in the country, offering investment advice for her windfall and acting for all the world like her adopted brother. She knew he felt guilty for finding his happy ending at her expense. Despite her reassurances she messed up her chances hours before he came on the scene, maybe months if she were really honest.

Three months ago, she left the estate a little more scarred, a little less hopeful, and much more wealthy. She paid back the money stolen from Granny but couldn’t bring herself to buy a place in the city like she originally planned. Instead, she took the remainder and invested it per Arthur’s overbearing instruction. She doubled it in a week and tripled that figure by the end of the month.

She still wasn’t satisfied, though. Dreams of a certain blue-eyed man haunted her, his last words whispering through her mind like a mantra and a curse. So she found Neal’s trail again and spent the next couple of weeks looking for him in the shadows and muck. She found him mooching off his mother of all people.

All the hate, anger, and embarrassment she buried deeply at the end of their relationship dissipated the moment she saw him. Why had she given him so much real estate in her mind, allowed the ghost of him to rob her of her sanity and potential happiness?

It was with satisfaction at a job well done rather than his impeding downfall that she turned him over to the local authorities and headed back to the east coast.

By the time she arrived, she was richer and even more lonely.

She was listless and finding no reason to stay, Emma accepted Arthur’s latest proposition that she needed to see the world. Using his numerous estates as a guide, she flitted across the globe, experiencing all the world had to offer and looking. Always looking.

It took her longer than it should have to realize she wouldn’t find what she was missing in the new people she met or the natural wonders she explored. The whole time her mind and soul were calling out for a more familiar setting and a dearer face.

Lancelot was right. She was running scared, and the only thing it was going to get her was absolutely nothing.

The handsome, almost homewrecker had not attempted to reach out since their quiet conversation on the beach, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know what he was up to. After calling it quits, he realized the US hadn’t been the best place for him. He returned with great fanfare to France, where he took on the daily running of the family business. He was said to have the Midas touch, working with the locals to improve the processes and products they offered. His vineyard was becoming the trendiest tourist destination in the country.

Not even a month after his departure, the press reported on the fairytale romance of the champagne millionaire and his widowed neighbor, Belle French. The pair’s engagement announcement ran in every major newspaper in the world.

It was quick work, even for Lancelot du Lac. She couldn’t begrudge him, though. He was never truly a bad man, just a regular one who made bad decisions. She could certainly relate.

Cutting her trip short, she returned to the city where it all started, to a tiny loft apartment she rented on a month-by-month basis above Granny’s diner. There didn’t seem to be much point in seeing the world when the only world she was interested in was centered about four hours away.

The news of Killian was more challenging to come by than the other people involved in her charade, but that only made it more precious. A charity fundraiser here, a life saved there, the ever-present and never changing picture on the hospital website she checked so often it was now saved as her homepage. She thought glimpses and scraps were all she was entitled to at first. However, the longer she tried to resist his pull, the more she started to think maybe she did deserve a chance.

Maybe she wasn’t too late.

Staring at the thick cream-colored invitation with scrolling words waxing romance, dates, and times, she came to a decision and packed her bags.

—

—

It wasn’t hard to find the exact location of their meeting. It was burned into Emma’s memory. Their initial encounter cemented as one of those moments that seem routine when they happen but take root in your fate and grow, threading through every aspect of your life until all traces of happiness are tied to one serendipitous second in time.

After departing from Arthur’s estate in a chauffeured car all those months ago, she had returned to this spot and found her Bug right where she left it. Someone, probably the Prince Charming she was determined to break, had filled the tank with gas. So, she bid adieu to Arthur’s employee and drove off into the sunset all alone. Like she did everything.

Nothing had changed about the place in the intervening months. It was thirty minutes to midnight. The dark sky was clear, stars twinkling from space and the moon a tiny thumbnail above the evergreens. She would wait all night if she had to, but sooner or later, she would catch her quarry.

Emma Swan always got her man.

Unfortunately, she didn’t always get him on her first try. She waited for a couple hours the first night, but no black BMW could be seen cresting the hill. Admitting defeat, she went back to her hotel and vowed to try again.

She knew she could have sprung an unannounced visit on him at his job. After all, it wasn’t difficult to pick out his dark sedan in the parking lot when she cruised by the hospital several times a day. Nor would it have been difficult to track down his address and ambush him one evening when he returned home. The idea had a lot of appeal since his place lived in a variety of fantasies involving oversized shirts and pancakes.

Deep down, she knew after she had robbed him of his choice so many times in their brief acquaintance, it would be wrong to show up and act like nothing happened. She needed to allow him to invite her back in or send her away.

God, she hoped he invited her in.

It took three nights, but eventually, she saw headlights. Smoothing down the hem of her black tank top over her skinny jeans, she took a cleansing breath and stepped out into the middle of the road.

She had no doubt it was him, the cautious pace slicing through the night at exactly the same time as before. She could even tell the precise moment he spotted her in the bright lights of his high beams, the luxury car swerving slightly into the other lane. It was less than a minute later he rolled to a stop about ten feet away.

Then, nothing. The silence of a door not opening was deafening.

Maybe this was her answer.

She wished she could see past the glare and through the windshield. Look into his eyes at least once more and tell him everything she figured out over the past couple of months. The same things he had tried to say to her before he left.

Finally, a lifetime later, she heard the door open. She felt every footfall in the far reaches of her heart, each measured step in time with the rapid beating in her chest. She was lightheaded with longing, her eyes frantically trying to adjust between light and dark and make out Killian’s beloved form in the nighttime.

“Fancy meeting you here, Captain.”

There was another long pause and then he stepped into the narrow, car-sized area of light. He was even more handsome than she remembered. The static, professionally staged photo on the website never did him justice in the first place. “Emma, when did you get back?”

She heard the question for what it really was, ‘Emma, why are you here?’

Smiling past her nerves, she took a step closer. He looked like the proverbial deer in the highlights, like any sudden movement would cause him to turn tail and run. She did this to him. It was her fault her cocky Prince Charming looked spooked. “A couple of days ago. I need a ride to Misthaven. I’m late for an appointment.”

“An appointment? It’s almost midnight. I’m getting the strangest sense of deja vu.”

“You see, there’s a man. He’s actually the best thing that ever happened to me. But I felt like I didn’t deserve him, like I didn’t deserve anyone, really, so I ran. Several times. And even though I pushed him away and ruined everything, I need to let him know that he was never nothing. His feelings were never nothing. As a matter of fact, he’s come to mean everything to me, and I wanted to tell him I was sorry it took me so long to say it.”

Taking a step forward, he stood nearly toe to toe with her. His hair was sticking out at odd angles, his face twisted in thought, hands hanging in fists at his side. “Is that so?”

Reaching out, she placed her hands on his shoulders and she looked up into his eyes, whispering, “I’ve loved you since you let me have all the bites with whipped cream. I was just too scared to admit it.”

She waited when all she wanted to do was pull him closer and bury her face in his neck, inhale his intoxicating scent again and taste his skin. She had said what she needed to say, but it didn’t give her the right to waltz back into his life if that wasn’t what he wanted. “Killian, I—“

Her words were cut off by his abrupt kiss. He grabbed her like he was drowning and she was the only thing that could save him. His chest heaving and lips brutal in their quest. He hitched her up slightly, settling her against the hood of his car. He half leaned over her as he continued to explore every neglected inch of her mouth, every lonely corner of her soul. When he finally broke off his passionate embrace, his breathing was ragged and his voice harsh with emotion. “I have big plans for you and whipped cream, love.”

Laughter filled the inches between them, his forehead resting against hers. Peppering his face with soft kisses, her fingertips tracing the line of his jaw, she teased, “Prove it.”

—

The trail of clothes leading to the bedroom remained untouched for days. They survived the early days of their relationship on pancakes, whipped cream, and borrowed shirts.

Over the years, people asked her when she knew Killian Jones was the one. Her answer was always the same.

At the stroke of midnight.

Every night for the rest of their lives.

Note:

Midnight — Info about the movie

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @motherkatereloyshipper @klynn-stormz

[leverage-commentary]

Leverage Season 2, Episode 11, The Bottle Job, Audio Commentary Transcript

Johnathan: Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Johnathan Frakes.

John: He’s the Director of this episode. My name is John Rogers, Executive Producer.

Christine: My name is Christine Boylan, I'm the writer on this episode.

John: Drinking left to right you have a screwdriver- a screwdriver, which is just a fistful of vodka with an orange in it.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: It qualifies as a screwdriver! Look where we are, we’re at a wake!

John: I've got a Guinness, and Boylan’s having a little baby Guinness. Boylan what is a bottle show?

Christine: A bottle show is a show that tries to save a lot of money by shooting on standing sets. And not adding too many bells and whistles that can get expensive.

John: Not very easy on a con show, but we managed to pull it off, and by far, this is one of my favorite episodes of the two years. Nicely done, both of you.

Johnathan: And the irony of this being a bottle show about a bottle is not lost-

John: Yeah it's- the puns were running thick and furious because we wrote it in 72 hours. Love this- now this is actually a room in the bar we have not seen before.

Christine: Yes, this is the back room.

John: The back room we built. And it was a great little idea. It's an Irish bar, it's an Irish wake, we built the con up from there.

Christine: Creepy storage area.

Johnathan: Oh Alan Smyth, the wonderful and talented-

John: Mr. Frakes, why don't you tell us about this villain? Cause this is a really interesting- it's an  interesting reveal, interesting villain. It's not our usual type of guy. How'd you approach this?

Johnathan: Delightful guy, this guy’s been sent to Boston by his father from Dublin to check on his family's money, and how things are going. Decides to take things into his own hand, doesn’t know he’s gonna run into the Leverage team. He thinks he can muscle this poor girl at her own wake- her father's wake and-

John: Yeah, boy that's an asshole. We hate that guy.

Christine: I hate this guy.

John: This guy totally passes the ‘we hate that guy’. Now I'm gonna ask where this scene can run a bunch of different ways. It can run really creepy, it can run kind of light. Like, how do you design this when you're gonna shoot this?

Johnathan: This was as simple and clean as it can be. Here’s a set up, here's the teaser: he wants the money, you see where they are, we have the like this chick, which I think we do. This is Odessa Rae.

John: Yeah, she was fantastic for a character.

Christine: Lovely girl.

Johnathan: And a real redhead, clearly. 

John: And it's really- we really kinda dig in on the Boson heritage in this one.

Christine: Yes, and it was important that she fight back, to me, that was a big one, just take that swing.

John: She didn't want to be a schlub. And Liam and Liam’s brother is my favorite bit. How did- Boylan, how did you wind up with the money borrowing aspect of this?

Christine: The money borrowing- I had watched a really fantastic documentary by...oh god, what's his name?

John: The Ascent of Money?

Christine: The Ascent of Money, Niall Ferguson, yes. The Ascent of Money talked about how loan sharks are alive and well all over the UK and in certain pockets of the US, allegedly. So I thought well let's do that, let’s take a little- let’s take the loan sharking and move it over. And also talk about the grand tradition of bookmaking as well, so we have all kinds of neighborhood cottage industries.

John: Yeah, and this is where we really dig into- this was important to do in the second half of the season, because we're really set-

Johnathan: We see every inch of this bar.

[Laughter]

Christine: Yes we do.

John: We see every inch of this bar. You shot the hell out of this, man.

Johnathan: Here's a standing set, and snow! Check out those windows. That's what makes you think you're outside.

John: And by the way, this was the hottest week in Portland on record.

Johnathan: Unbelievable.

Christine: 107 degrees.

John: 107 degrees.

Johnathan: Everybody in layers.

John: This is our Life on Mars flashback. 

Johnathan: There we go.

Christine: Jimmy Ford.

John: This is Jimmy Ford and young Nate. And this was interesting, this was- we really need to establish just how close Nate Ford was to a criminal life, for us to do the season finale. 

Christine: Yup.

John: And it was interesting for a show that really came out and just came out of the ether, you came back from shooting another episode with this idea, this actually wound up doing an awful lot of work for us for the season.

Christine: I really like to dig in on Nate, his backstory, his troubles, because he's a wonderful shade of gray for us, so I was-

Johnathan: This also the beginning of his fall off the wagon.

John: Absolutely.

Christine: Yes, oh yeah. A nice swan dive off the wagon, actually.

[Laughter] 

Christine: With a graceful landing. I was up doing episode eight, The Ice Man Job, and I thought, you know, in between takes you’re sitting there, you're thinking how do- the challenge was, how do you do a bottle show? And I really wanted to do The Wire and we haven't been able to do the wire yet, so- 

John: The wire is the classic con in the opening of this episode, where using a delay in sports knowledge, you're able to con somebody. It's the big con in The Sting.

Christine: Yes.

John: It is the big con that everyone uses when they are ripping off The Sting, and they're not telling you. And so we actually made a point of making it text that we’re doing the wire and we’re doing it in this amount of time.

Johnathan: And you can't do it in less than 4 weeks, or 2 weeks.

John: No, no it's a long con.

Christine: A lot of preparation.

Johnathan: It's a long con and we do it in-

John: Yeah. This was the fun of this episode was basically taking everything that was possible-

Johnathan: We do it in 17 minutes.

John: The fun of this episode was taking everything that is impossible in a con and heist show, and making it text that's impossible for the team to do.

Christine: It’s super meta because the Leverage team does what we did, which is do this really, really quickly.

John: Yeah. Really, really quickly. We broke and wrote this episode in 72 hours.

Christine: Yup, I flew up here right before my birthday. 107 degrees at the end of July, and we had a blast. We had a really great time.

Johnathan: Liam and Liam's brother.

John: It was also good to kind of nail down Nate’s- why Nate chose this bar, why Nate- and we kinda touched on it, but the idea that he's got some sort of family history. And it was a big deal too, when we were talking about this bar. Tim Hutton as they were building the set talked about the bar that his dad used to drink in, in Boston. And talked about, like, remembering the pictures of the Irish rebels up in the men's room, and a lot of that stuff we used when we were designing the bar.

Johnathan: Tim Hutton himself owns a bar.

John: Tim Hutton himself owns a bar in New York, that's right. 

Christine: He does indeed.

John: And this is our classic vic scene, just a little bit later.

Christine: Yeah, she gave an amazing performance here, every take. Do you remember that? Unbelievable.

Johnathan: Fascinating girl, too; very interesting girl and a wonderful actress.

Christine: Yeah, truly a riot.

John: And you shot the hell out of the apartment. The apartment looks nice in this light. Actually, this was the one that made me want to shoot the apartment in this light on a regular basis.

Johnathan: Well this was Connell saying, if this is night and we can- if we can play the snow, we’ll turn the shutters down a little bit so we can see the snow. It’s- it feels like there's a fire lighting in here.

John: Yeah, it actually affected the way we shot a couple of the following episodes, because in the day, this- the great light wood gives you a lot of space, but it can feel a little too airy. This really made sections of the apartment look intimate.

Christine: The warmth is great.

Johnathan: Yeah, but also I think all of us have learned by this time if we isolate a section - like if we play a scene in the kitchen, it works, but keep everybody up in the kitchen. If you're gonna go down to the television room, we've gotta play that. Once we spread everybody out, you can't make your day.

John: Well Marc Roskin did something interesting in 213 where he used Nate as the hinge to follow people as they entered. But what he did was basically broke it up into mini scenes of that, as Nates starts the TV he's talking to Hardison, comes up at Jeri on the table, and then Parker and Eliot arrive, like on the fly, to land the move.

Christine: That's great.

John: But that- it’s the only time we've really pulled it off really, really well.

Christine: I will say that we did use the staircase a lot in this episode as well.

[Laughter]

Christine: A lot of running up and down the stairs.

John: A lot of running up and down the stairs.

Johnathan: There happens to be an interior staircase in the building that is very convenient for us.

Christine: Yes.

John: Yeah. And that was a great design idea, actually. I remember when we originally stuck that in there, like, we don't know when we’re gonna use it or how, but it's always good to have some circular stairs. No, this is a lot of- this is a lot of fun.

Johnathan: Are you talking about the staircase we see? I was talking about the staircase we feel.

[Laughter]

Christine: Oh.

Johnathan: Between the bar and the bar is literally downstairs in the building.

John: Oh of course, upstairs. That was a big deal was trying to figure out the geography of, like, how this bar’s connected to upstairs. 

Christine: Oh here we go.

John: This is my favorite- damn.

Johnathan: And give it to- props to Jeri Ryan, unafraid to play it, fully committed.

John: And then-

Johnathan: Takes the shooter, goes to work.

John: ‘My name’s Trish and I'm lonely.’

Christine: ‘I’m Trish and I’m lonely.’

Johnathan: And I get the girls up and out and here we go.

John: Yeah. She-

Christine: We were all distracted by the way Jeri looked this entire episode.

John: I love Jeri for doing that. I love Jeri for doing that. 

Johnathan: She was comfortable with it, embraced it, knows what she was there to play.

John: And it was- also says something about the character which is - you have given her precisely this much information; she is in a bar, she knows exactly how to run this con.

Johnathan: ‘Let me run with it, I got it, I got this one.’

Christine: What a gift the chemistry between Jeri and Alan was here. Fantastic.

John: Yeah, it's hard work flirting with Jeri Ryan. It’s all uphill.

Christine: Oh his days were terrible. 

Johnathan: Poor thing.

Christine: He had the worst job ever.

John: I love also- again, we try to differentiate between the jobs everyone has. Parker always does the lift. You know, Chris can do a drop if he needs to - Eliot can do a drop, but you have to make sure when you've got a five-hander, everyone’s got their jobs.

Christine: I like the lifts in this one; we see some of them, and some of them are magic tricks. So it works out well.

John: And now we’re using the phone to scan which is something that you can do. They actually just created a food scanner for the iPhone.

Christine: Really?

Johnathan: A food scanner?

John: You take the iPhone, you run it over the UPC symbol on the outside of food, and all the nutritional information comes up - the calories, that sort of thing.

Christine: As if I'm not neurotic enough. I totally need that app. Yeah, that’s great.

John: There you go. Also I love the choice- and again, it was a virtue of us writing this really fast, and also wanting to do a bottle show which is so constrained, which is - he's just going to tell her he's a loan shark. We’re just gonna- we’re gonna try to take all the pipe, all the stuff you usually try to hide, and sell it. 

Christine: He owns it.

Johnathan: Lay it out there, put it into the scene in act one.

Christine: There's something great about putting it forward like that.

John: It just moves. It just flies. And also, whenever you can give Hardison a recurring series of impossible tasks, it is inherently amusing.

Christine: Aldis is adorable in this.

Johnathan: Especially in a limited amount of time.

John: Well that's really what we've talked about on a couple of the commentaries; when you have the super team, it gets really, really hard to constantly challenge them. So it got more and more - how do we constrain them in time and space? And this is the ultimate example. You know, this episode runs essentially in real time.

Johnathan: It is; it plays in real time.

[Silence]

John: That's me drinking, pardon.

[Laughter]

Christine: A lift.

John: A little lift.

Christine: Lift and replacement.

Johnathan: That was the replace. Yeah, the great chemistry between these two actors.

Christine: Alan’s worst day ever.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: All day. All day with Jeri.

Christine: All day.

John: Sitting at a bar. 

Johnathan: Sitting at a bar.

Christine: Could be worse.

John: It's interesting because we had episodes with bigger Tara Cole roles; this is actually my favorite one of the Tara- of Jeri doing Tara. Because you- this is one of the few times we cut her loose and let her do what she's supposed to do and really put her insolation.

Christine: And she’s really fearless, just fearless, which is great.

Johnathan: She’s a pro, pro from Dover and-

Christine: Seriously.

John: What does that mean?

Johnathan: She knows this character-

John: I'm disturbed. I like, by the way, the bar thing of like, ‘Yeah, we’ll miss our flight.’ They look over, it’s Jeri Ryan, ‘Yeah, ok. We’ll blow it off.’

Christine: Yeah, seriously.

Johnathan: ‘Ooh, ooh!’

Christine: Because this guy, not only is he gonna own it, he’s gonna brag about it.

John: What I love is we actually had a discussion in the room, for some people who didn't use to drink professionally, about the viability of some of the gambling and the money and everything in a bar. And I was like, I was a stand up comic-

Johnathan: That would never happen.

John: I was a stand up comic in a mob bar for a long time. Trust me - this was a Tuesday night. 

Johnathan: This happens.

John: Yeah. I saw 20-30 grand go away at the bar several times on sporting events; just poorly thought out ideas. And this was a challenge for you, by the way, you were establishing geography that didn't exist. 

Johnathan: Well that's what we just did by going out the back door. We all bought- we all drank the kool aid and said there will be a back staircase, otherwise this story’s gonna be dull as dirt. 

Christine: Yeah, there’s gotta be-

Johnathan: Trying to get in and out the front door.

John: It's kind of Noises Off. 

Christine: Yeah.

John: Yeah, we're kinda doing-

Christine: Everything I write is a little stagey.

John: Everything you write is a little stagey.

Christine: A little farce-y.

Johnathan: Here's more of our traditional 360, well used.

Christine: This is beautiful here, yeah.

Johnathan: Standing them up. Keep them standing. Always good advice.

John: The actors?

Johnathan: Yeah.

John: The actors’ energy is part of the energy, right, yeah.

Christine: Yeah this- I just got a thrill off of this, watching this being shot. 

John: It's also- it’s fun because it was one of the purest versions. Again, because we’re in so fast of Nate Ford like ‘I am a genius. I am playing chess. I am playing speed chess.’

Christine: Yeah, right.

Johnathan: This is a great bit coming up this is- we come off this and we go back to Christian with the dart. He kept saying to me, ‘No, no, Frakes, I can do this; I can actually throw it.’ I said, ‘No no, you don’t understand Christain, it has to look like magic.’ ‘No, give me half an hour and I’ll make some- I'll make some bullseyes for you.’ I said, ‘No, no, no, I can do it as a special effect. It’s gonna look great; you're gonna look cool.’ I fought with him and fought with him. He said, ‘No, let me just look.’ I said, ‘The point is you don't look! You dont look when the dart goes in the wall!’

[Laughter]

Christine: Christians tough, because he's good at everything. 

John: Well that's the trick. There’s- in a previous episode he jacks the slight on a gun and without looking catches the shell in midair as he’s doing dialogue. And it’s like- it’s hard to say no to him when he really wants to dig in in something, but yeah. This is also- I love- this is pure- this is pure threesome goodness. The kids are upstairs ripping apart dad’s apartment. 

Christine: Triangles.

Johnathan: It also tees up the ending which is great.

Christine: And this- I, you know, this is for the fans.

John: The idea that they have utterly co-opted-

Johnathan: Nate’s house? Yeah.

John: His house, yes.

Christine: Oh, the cereal boxes.

Johnathan: They’ve all got stashed money.

John: And this, by the way, is a callback, this is why Parker’s always eating cereal; she's planting money in there on a regular basis and hiding it. 

Christine: I think she likes the sugar as well.

John: She likes the sugar.

Johnathan: For anyone who’s watching closely.

John: And of course we finally solve the mystery of the picture.

[Laughter]

Christine: Her look right there is great.

Johnathan: ‘Are you kidding me?’

John: I love the idea that she- for once, cause we often play Hardison as the kind of emotional one, and for once we remind everyone, no he's a thief. Yeah. This is just his gig. He will even upset Parker, occasionally.

Johnathan: Woo he got down there fast, didn't he?

Christine: Oh yeah, that staircase is magical. Well he's very fit; he’s taking them three at a time.

John: Here's the thing: I don't think Eliot took the staircase; I'm thinking Eliot probably just went out the window.

Johnathan: He jumped.

Christine: He just jumped.

John: Went out the window, landed in the snow bank. I think that's probably the best way to play that particular transition.

[Laughter]

John: We don't- who cares about transitions? America is not sitting on their couch- 

Johnathan: Great extras, look at these-

Christine: Look at these extras, they’re killing me.

John: Look at these extras. They’re great. This was a really- you know, it's tricky because we usually shoot the-

Johnathan: Comedy. Sight gags.

John: Big comedy. I'm not afraid of the comedy. You know what? No one has ever stopped watching a TV show because it made them laugh.

Christine: Look at all these wires.

John: Yup, you have no idea what they're doing. 

Christine: Comedy wires.

John: By the way, that's roughly what the inside of my wall looks like; that's actually not bad.

[Laughter]

John: I like that you had him play the whole way through with the helmet, by the way.

Johnathan: Yeah keep the helmet- once you got the helmet-

John: But we actually- 

Johnathan: How about the amount of wires? Come on, I’ve seen The Three Stooges!

[Laughter]

John: It’s perfect, there's nothing like a pulling wire gag.

Christine: Look at all the ends, that's great.

John: It was interesting, breaking this up we eventually wound up in little strike teams like, ‘OK, you figure out how the wire works; you'll figure out how the Tivo- this part of the Tivo delivery system works; you'll figure out what the crime scene is.’ Yeah. 

Johnathan: Was this the writers room?

John: Yeah, this was basically, everyone got a piece of the script, come back in a day and tell me how it works.

Christine: We’re our own super team.

Johnathan: And you know what? It's one of the great things about this episode is the train leaves the station and there is no- there’s not much room for coming back and expositioning. 

Christine: It's the express train.

John: I love when he-

Johnathan: It is the express train.

John: And that's the idea is, again- and this could've been a nice passing episode, the ability to set up everything in this. This might be the most important episode before the finale, because you really see who this guy is.

Johnathan: It's also nice to see this guy go toe-to-toe with Tim.

Christian: Yeah.

John: Yeah, it’s was like with Riegert with 210; it's great when you get an actor who's not intimidated by Tim, because Tim, you know, he's a very gifted actor. He's very famous and-

Johnathan: Yeah, he's fabulous. And this guy could carry a show and he was so happy to be here.

John: Yeah.

Johnathan: And Tim liked him, and it worked out and it was a-

Christine: They had a great time.

Johnathan: It was a win, win, win.

Christine: They had a great time, we had a great time.

John: No, this was actually born from the fact that in an old apartment building I was in, people used to pirate off the main satellite feed.

Christine: Like you do.

Johnathan: Yeah.

John: So- as one does. The idea is you do it backwards.

Johnathan: As you do. We'd never do that in college.

John: No, no. Of course not.

Christine: Never.

John: Well satellite, I mean, back when we were in college were those giant sputnik things that we used to battle the Russians in space. 

[Laughter]

Johnathan: This is meant to be the Celtics, but what are- we found footage from the Canadian-

John: The Canadian basketball-

Christine: We went back and forth, we made up names.

John: You do not want to buy the rights from the NBA; it is very, very, expensive.

Christine: And that's not the point. The point is the betting.

John: The point is the betting.

Christine: The point is the characters. 

John: Exactly, is the idea. And the only thing I'm kinda sad is, we run at 42 minutes and 30 seconds. There's an awful lot of stuff you would love to do, you just don't have time for. We had a great bit that we researched about the neuroscience of gambling, and how you can create-

Christine: Oh yes.

John: Remember? You can create feedback cycles with addictive behavior that- it’s very specific intervals of winning that hooks an addict in, in a way that they can't escape. And we were going to use that at the bar and it just, it just- 

Johnathan: There was no room.

Christine: It's like the random praise you give the writers.

John: Yes, it's like the random- the writers- writers were distressed-

Johnathan: Boom.

Christine: Oh, look at that.

John: Yes, the writers were distressed to find out that I was using neuroscience on them. It turns out that you should never praise constantly or never, you should praise randomly.

Christine: Praise randomly.

Johnathan: There are not many physicists that are showrunners.

Christine: It’s true, it’s true.

John: I was explaining the random praise thing to them one day, and suddenly they realized ‘...wait that's what you do.’ ‘Well yeah, it's how you train a rat, so why wouldn't it be how you train a writer? 

[Laughter]

John: And it’s great- also the big challenge in the episode to keep the vic alive, to keep it emotionally anchored, and because we’re where she works, we can cut to her a lot and- 

Johnathan: We can cut to her a lot, and we put her in a lot of scenes that she wasn't originally in.

Christine: Yeah, just having her around.

John: It really just worked out. Cause you had her there, and you had the writer on set, makes a big difference.

Christine: So this is Brad Farwell and George Burich as Liam and Liam's brother, and George-

Johnathan: Not bad Irish accents for a couple of guys from the great northwest.

Christine: Pretty good. And I just had a drink with George in New York last week and he said, ‘Mention the toothpick! Don't forget to mention the toothpick.’

John: It's nice; it's a nice touch.

Christine: He's in love with that prop; adorable.

John: I remember how Liam's brother- Liam and Liam's brother was born, because we actually were trying to think of a name; it just hung in the room so long we were like, ‘Oh wait, that's the joke. This is Liam and Liam's brother.’

Christine: ‘That’s totally it.’

Johnathan: Worked on [unintelligible] for three years.

John: And beat, beat, beat. There you go.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: Eric Bates, our prop man, said, ‘Frakes, should I get out the good money for this show?’ I said yeah.

Christine: The good, good money.

John: There's gonna be a lot of close ups.

Johnathan: He's got two qualities of money. Yeah I said, ‘Tonight would be a night for the good money.’

John: We’re a heist show. We have an awful lot of briefcases of money, and sometimes you just need the tops and sometimes you need to count it, yeah. 

Christine: A lot of cash.

John: And this was a nice beat and Tim really didn’t over play this. He really did a great job.

Christine: It's very subtle this episode.

John: He was really great and subtle.

Johnathan: Well, he's comfortable in a bar. 

John: Yeah and-

Johnathan: And I think a lot of us are, and I think that's one of the reasons-

Christine: I don't know what you're talking about.

Johnathan: Well, I mean, you can tell people who spend time in there. Even the shooters behind the camera, everybody was comfortable in there, everybody knew the way it should look, everybody knew the dynamic, everybody knew what the stuff would be like. I mean, there's something about being in a familiar place with a crew that makes you move faster and move with it as a team.

John: And also we've lived in this set a bit more. We set decked a little bit more, and again, it was like usually we meet the clients during the day, and looking at this was like, we should be there at night all the time.

Christine: Yeah, it's gorgeous.

Johnathan: There's a lot to be said for night.

John: Night is cheap rain. Or rain is cheap night. I can never keep that straight.

[Laughter]

John: More great work by Derek, our visual effects guy. There's- it's really hard we do a life of computer gackery and it's really hard to make sure people understand.

Johnathan: Are we gonna go over the split screen again on the TV?

John: I don't know. No, no we're not gonna split-screen.

Johnathan: The big screen is- I've been watching a lot of these NCIS things-

John: The big screen, I think we're gonna go the big screen next year. 

Johnathan: That, I think, is the difference.

John: You know what? We just didn't have the tech. 

Johnathan: Yeah I know, that's what I'm saying. That’s what I’m saying, we do now. 

John: Yeah this was really- although it worked well for this, because it's one of the few times we pop up a bunch of different windows.

Christine: They're multitasking almost.

John: I think next year we’re gonna- and again there's an awful lot of stuff we’re kind of inventing on the fly. Yeah.

Christine: The hell you say?

[Laughter]

Johnathan: It’s a TV show.

John: Yeah, it's like shooting a movie in 7 days, or 6 ½ occasionally.

Christine: 6 ½ in 107 degrees.

Johnathan: Don’t bring it up; don’t rub it in.

John: Now when you get two actors like this, you know, what's your job as a director? You go in, do you have a specific ‘I want to end this scene here’? Do you give them guidelines? Do you shoot-? What's your approach?

Johnathan: Well these guys both decided with our permission, your permission, that, you know, they would adlib. Here’s what needs to happen in the scene. If you have two good actors and you have the intention of the scene clear and you're at a bar and they're having a drink, and they're gambling, and they're watching, it’s safe.

Christine: It's nice to have actors who care about the rhythm of the dialogue. How it's said is as important as what's being said, and they will work with me every- the regular cast and the guest stars were happy to like grab me at any time. ‘Rewrite this. Can I say this? Can we do it that way?’ I love that.

John: Yeah, I know.

Christine: Woo, there's a lot of grabbing going on; very grabby.

John: Yeah we’re setting up Boylan; she's pretty open to it without all those lawyers getting involved.

[Laughter]

John: But here's the thing, there's a lot of showrunners, and a lot of writers, and everything it's like ‘say the words, say the words, say the words.’ And you know what? At the end of the day it's a television show with actors and it's gotta-

Johnathan: It's really- in the defense of both sides, you really have to use it judiciously.

John: Yes.

Johnathan: I think that you have to know- Timothy Hutton can adlib. Alan Smith, I'd done four shows with, I knew he could. But you don't want to turn everybody loose, because everybody thinks they're funny, and only some people are.

Christine: Exactly.

John: You have to be open to it.

Johnathan: You have to be open to it enough to judiciously use whats good and what's-

John: And just not- and I'm just saying, I'm not one of those writers where it's like, you know what? If you wind up with the better rhythm, the better line, that's what matters. Because TV is radio with pictures. 

Christine: Absolutely.

John: You know, people listen to voices, people listen- they got their heads down, they're reading while they're listening to TV, you know, that's what drives television. It's nice when television is well shot, but well-spoken television works just as well.

Christine: Oh for me it works better.

Johnathan: They remember what happened.

John: Yes. It'd be nice if every now and then you thought about the fact that actors have to deliver your lines.

Christine: They love it.

John: Yes, they adore you.

Christine: I do think a good section of the writing process occurs on set, honestly. And it's something that I was lucky to learn in rehearsals doing theater: it’s gonna change every day and that's ok. Everybody’s gonna roll with it, it's gonna get better, and it has to be easy to say; it has to be easy for the audience to process and remember.

Johnathan: And also each character speaks differently. That's what happened in the second season in this show, is the characters have found their voices, the writers have found the characters’ voices-

John: Honestly we got lucky. They found their voices early, early, first season. They all had found their rhythms. Because we tend to pair them, and you tend to- and that's what happens is they find the rhythms of each other. That moment of celebration from Hardison is not just him, it's us for having pulled off the wire. Doing a con that most shows take an entire episode to do- 

Johnathan: We do it in less than half.

John: And labor the freaking point about it. That's right, in Leverage you get 3 or 4 episodes of television per episode. 

[Laughter]

John: And we've won, at this point- and again, this is a hook on Nate’s illness this year. At this point he should walk away.

Christine: Absolutely.

John: There is no reason for him to do this.

Johnathan: But now it's a bigger deal.

John: And it's not just justice, it’s obsession, you know, and it’s vengeance, and it’s control and it's- you know, he's starting to see himself as his father.

Johnathan: And it’s alcohol.

John: It’s alcohol.

Christine: Is it hubris or moxie?

John: Well what the alcohol has done is kind of- hubris or moxie. As we say in the writers room all the time.

Christine: That’s it; it’s very important.

John: Is it hubris or moxie? And with him it’s hubris. 

Christine: Totally.

John: But we’re really- what the alcohol has done here is loosened up the reins he's had on what is a really- and what I love is Tim’s not afraid to play this is - Nate Ford is an unpleasant human being. He's condescending, he's sarcastic, he’s vengeful, he's judgmental. You know, I love the- and again Jeri- 

Johnathan: And he's not afraid of that.

Christine: No he's not.

John: Yeah, and the fact that when he sort of loosens up, a lot of other shows have ‘Oh he's loosened up, I like him more.’ When Nate Ford loosens up you actually see him see an uglier side of him. The professional thieves are much more likeable on this show than the protagonist, which is one of the reasons I think it kinda works. I love that, that is a great beat. ‘I’m claustrophobic.’

[Laughter]

Christine: Liam's brother is claustrophobic.

Johnathan: What an absurd beat.

John: Well you know what? I'd just come back from Boston, I'd driven the Ted Williams tunnel to go to Logan.

Christine: It’s awful.

John: It's awful; you're underground forever.

Christine: It’s awful.

John: It's like, alright- that's one of the advantages of knowing the city you're actually writing about. Like, you know what, there's no other way to get to the airport.

Johnathan: But it's a wonderful thing to say about a character that has virtually nothing else.

John: Nothing to say. And that actor landed that look.

Johnathan: Exactly.

Christine: That's lovely.

John: Yes, and now we're giving Hardison yet another insanely impossible thing to do.

Johnathan: And we’re taking the leap that the audience knows what a green screen can do.

Christine: Yes.

John: You know what? I think everyone does now. 

Johnathan: I think they do. 

John: It really is- it’s always interesting to try to figure out, what do people know and not know and not know? And now a little something for the ladies.

Christine: Ahem, you're welcome.

[Laughter]

Christine: This was a fun day on set.

John: Yeah I can imagine. ‘Why are all the PA’s here?’

Johnathan: He's been waiting.

John: He's been waiting for a while. Dude should not have to work out that much and not be-

Johnathan: Exactly. I said, ‘Will you take your shirt off?’ He said, ‘On camera?’ I said, ‘Yeah’. ‘Watch me.’

[Laughter]

John: As opposed to usually where you're with actors ‘Will you take your shirt off?’ ‘Alright Mr. Frakes, if you want.’

Johnathan: ‘Can you really ride that motorcycle?’ ‘I said I could!’

[Laughter]

John: Oh god! Oh this is unspeakable, oh man, this is why we drink during these! I love Parker’s little beat there of, ‘Yeah, like there’s a safe I can't pick, c’mon’. 

Christine: Seriously.

John: This is one of my favorites- and again, the second half of the season, we started pairing Eliot and Parker together.

Christine: It's a great pairing.

Johnathan: Yeah, and it changes the rhythm, but they are great together.

John: They're great together. And Chris and Beth are also getting to work together a lot and they- really whole cast really likes each other, so it was fun to watch.

Johnathan: Here's some comedy.

John: You know what, big comedy, half-dressed comedy.

Christine: Sexy comedy.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: Weatherman comedy. 

Christine: Weatherman comedy.

Johnathan: Clothes are a little small because they're Nate’s clothes. Did we get that part?

John: Yeah, I noticed that. And also the whole idea that he could be pantless, you don't know.

Christine: He could be, they don't know.

John: No, this was an enormous amount of fun. This is just really one where we kicked back and put every con trope we can into this thing. 

[Laughter]

Christine: And we got a lot of pleasure in the writers room of doing the ‘other side’ bit before it ended up in the script.

John: Other side.

Christine: ‘Seattle’. ‘Other side’

John: No this is- and again, it was a matter of controlling information. In theory, the bar- and it's tricky, cause, you know, much like earbuds have changed the way you write these shows in communication. When mobile phones start doing news better, we're gonna have to learn to write different stuff. 

Johnathan: Yeah.

John: The ubiquity of information is something that all con and heist shows- controlling information is what that depends on, and you can control information less and less and less. But again, because we were in one location, that was the benefit; it forced us to do something that makes our lives easier.

Christine: I'm a fan of putting constraints on them as much as possible.

John: Yeah. It’s- otherwise they need obstacles.

Christine: Now forget the weather, he’s gonna do whatever she tells him. Look at her, please.

John: Pretty much I think he would probably kill Liam and Liam's brother at this point.

Christine: In full view of everyone.

Johnathan: ‘I don't care if they are claustrophobic!’

John: ‘Put them in a goddamn tunnel!’ No. No it's what - we're watching this with the sound off by the way - and it’s one of my favorite bits about watching these scenes, is you can actually-

Johnathan: You remember what happened.

John: You remembered what happened, but also I like watching- without the dialogue it's easier to see the emotional moments, the choices the actors are making. You can see the swing moments in the scene. 

Christine: Oh yeah.

John: The acting- I actually enjoy it more with the sound off. Because you know what's going on here. With the sound off, you know how she’s reining him in, she's shutting him down, and then he’s pulling her in; she’s feeding his ego.

Johnathan: Look at how unafraid of her he is, which was nice.

John: That's also a big thing this year, is coming up with bad guys who were a little more physically confident, you know. It was a little too easy to have, like, old white dudes who were threatened by stuff.

Christine: See no tie. He's not wearing a tie.

John: No tie, he's not wearing a tie. We’ll have to remember that.

Christine: Leather jacket, no tie.

John: And then the stall almost works. And what I love is- Johnathan, you created an entire back to this bar between that drink room and the back room.

Johnathan: The drink room and the poker room.

John: And the magic area. There's no-

Johnathan: It’s huge back there!

John: It did not exist.

Christine: It’s so huge.

Johnathan: There's the whole first floor of that building.

John: Those sets aren't there!

[Laughter]

John: It was nicely done. And especially since you bombed in on short notice too right? Was I supposed to do this one? I was supposed to do this one.

Christine: This all came together very quickly.

Johnathan: Yeah, I think this was yours.

John: This was mine, and I wound up writing another episode, so I couldn’t direct.

Christine: What you missed the 107 degrees in Portland?

John: Yeah, I don’t know if I could’ve- there's no way in hell I could have pulled this off.

Christine: I don't think you would have made it.

John: No..

Christine: I'm just kidding.

John: No, no, no Johnathan has a lot of experience, he's really confident and really great with actors.

Johnathan: Oh please, John.

John: No this- a bottle show is the hardest show you can do on television. Period. The end. And it's the simplest looking one, they are- go find the bottle shows to your favorite television shows and watch how much they suck.

Christine: They're often audience favorites, because you get to play character-

Johnathan: They've often been sidled with flashbacks.

Christine: Oh, that’s true.

Johnathan: And pieces of other shows because they are short as well as bottled.

Christine: No clip show here.

John: No clip show here.

Christine: Just that special Life on Mars flashback to Nate's dad.

John: Nate’s brutally corrupt father.

Christine: Look at these guys.

Johnathan: Joe Ivy, Hank Cartwright, Ted Rooney. 

Christine: Fantastic. Fantastic gentleman. Lovely, hilarious.

John: And this one keeps picking up on the entrances too. This really does run in real time, doesn't it? You think- there's a time dash in act four where we do the poker game, but that's it. Now I love- these guys were great. Oh my god, these guys were great.

Johnathan: Local again.

Christine: Local?

Johnathan: God bless the Portland hires.

John: Again Portland, we thought we'd be flying up 3 or 4 actors a week, we flew up one on average.

Christine: Yup, it's that Portland, and then access to Seattle; it's two cities just full of terrific actors.

John: Now they're scheming, now they are working together. These two guys were great, they were really telling their own story back there.

Johnathan: Well it’s again, once they were cast and they started to hang together, and you hang together for a week, and you're on location together, and you're in a show. I've done this, I've been that actor; there's nothing better, there's nothing better than being number 7, 8, 9 in the call sheet.

John: You've got their moments.

Johnathan: On hold. You get your per diem. You've got your moments, you're in the family for a week, it's a great thrill.

Christine: And everybody got really close. You know, it was a heat wave, we’re all in it together, everybody’s going out for drinks, everybody hanging out afterwards. It was nice.

Johnathan: I went home and worked.

[Laughter]

John: You did. You go home every night.

Christine: I think I saw you out once or twice, Mr. Frakes.

John: You went home to prep your shot list for the next day. Of course, you're brutally devoted sir, you are brutally devoted. I like the mislead here, this actually wound up- again, we jumped through so many hoops. ‘How do we put his poker game together? Where do we find it?’ ‘Oh wait, we’ll just establish it early and use all the available resources.’

Christine: And this is where the improv-ing really came into play during the poker game, it was kind of terrific.

John: Well also because this was based on bars where I used to hang out in Montreal where the cops- cause the place-

Johnathan: The cops were in the back.

John: Well, you know, where I hung out at- Montreal, that part was controlled by the Irish mob. So, it was a lot of Irish bars, a lot of cops, a lot of Irish mob guys hanging out in the same place. 

Christine: Sort of neutral ground.

John: Yeah, exactly.

Christine: Or a neutral zone.

Johnathan: Newspaper recycling plant right here, ladies and gentlemen.

John: Don't do that.

Christine: Don't say neutral zone?

Johnathan: Right there that's all newspaper. 

John: That's all newspaper? That's cool, where'd you find this? 

Johnathan: In Portland.

John: No, I meant the-

Christine: Portland warehouse.

Johnathan: Portland warehouse. And that is a sugar, what they cut- What's it called? 

Christine: Sugar cane?

Johnathan: They used to cut cocaine with it, it’s-

Christine: Oh.

Johnathan: Baby laxative.

John: Oh wow.

Johnathan: It’s put into-

John: Now I know. How do you know- wow it's almost like you were an actor in the 80s. How do you know so much about cocaine, Johnathan?

Johnathan: I'm just telling you what I learned on the location scout, they told me all these things.

John: All these things you pick up along the way in your long career.

[Laughter]

John: Things happen. And the fact that he is- and again, interestingly, if you go back and rewatch the back six episodes, just Jeri’s role, you can actually track her coherent decision points.

Johnathan: This is a good shot. Aaand boom. 

John: And through the door.

Johnathan: We wanted to see the shots cause we know, it’s not really about the shots, it's about the story.

Christine: The shots support the story. 

John: No, no, the episodes where Dean does commentary it’s all about the shots. With you, we hammer you with a story.

Johnathan: If you see the shots there’s a problem really, isn't there?

John: If you notice a shot, that means you're not paying attention to the story. But I love that. By doing that push in, you connected that door to a room that is actually on the other soundstage.

Christine: Far away.

John: You have to walk another 150 yards.

Johnathan: Another part of the world! It’s another day!

John: This room actually sold us.

Johnathan: Look at this stage, it’s setting you up for something this season. Look at that stage.

Christine: We got- seriously I got a couple pictures from that stage.

John: I’m sure you do.

Christine: Oh baby, do I.

Johnathan: Does it involve comedy? Cause John Rogers has not made it-

John: Oh no.

Christine: It involves musical comedy.

John: Musical comedy.

Johnathan: What about stand up?

John: Yeah, well I’ve worked that room.

Johnathan: That’s what I’m saying!

[Laughter]

John: Fairly sure I’ve worked in that room.

Christine: There's a flashback episode coming up.

John: Yeah- yeah, we do the writer's flashback, the audience would love that.

Johnathan: Nothing indulgent in here.

Christine: No one wants to see that.

John: No, I don’t think I'm going to go the Steve Cannell playing poker at the table route just quite yet.

Johnathan: Castle.

John: And I say that and the man is a walking god of writing, but no I'm not gonna go there.

Johnathan: And James Patterson as well.

John: James Patterson was there, too. We actually like those show- it's interesting it’s- you know, a lot of commentaries go out of their way to not talk about other shows.

Christine: We like other shows.

John: You have to be a fan of the genre to write the genre.

Christine: Absolutely.

John: You know you have to be. Otherwise you won't know when you're crossing the streams, won't necessarily have the toolbox.

Johnathan: Here's an example of what we were talking about earlier. We gave the three local cops, Alan, Tim, the poker game. Here's what has to happen, we have to have two cons that are positive, and a con that's negative. And we played- we played 6, 7, 8, 9, minute takes.

Christine: Oh yeah, we sat back and laughed our asses off afterwards, they were great.

Johnathan: Sat back and laughed, and cut it together and you go where we see it in the scene.

Christine: Some brilliant cutting here, actually.

John: It’s a really nicely shot poker game, actually. I'm watching it now, this is really really nice.

Johnathan: It’s because we had all the time in the world because we had- we finished the scene and what I needed was the poker game, and what we needed was the story points in the poker game. Instead of trying to find them I said, ‘Why don't we just play hands out?’ And so the camera men, to their credit, Connell and Camp- 

John: And again, I love Beth bringing a creepy sexual vibe.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: A creepy sexual vibe to a safe.

Christine: It’s great.

John: Yeah, that's really nice. And she does the same thing- it's interesting. It’s kind of another beat that she played with Eliot in the Lost Heir Job where she knows violence is about to happen, and she gets a little buzzed by it.

Christine: A little excited about it. I don't know anybody like that.

John: Yeah that's not, not at all.

Christine: Not at all.

Johnathan: Isn’t that what you write? That's your strongest suit?

John: Creepy sexual violence, that's what Boylan-

Christine: I don't know what you're talking about.

Johnathan: That's the Boylan way.

John: No the-

Johnathan: By this time Nate is fully into the [unintelligible].

Christine: I mean he's just- 

John: Boom boom boom.

Johnathan: He made the decision early, which actually we glanced over. That was a wonderful beat, which he did not overplay. 

John: When he goes and gets the booze and brings it over? Yeah.

Johnathan: No no, in the bar when he decides to have the first drink.

Christine: The first drink.

John: Yeah. Well you know, I don’t think it’s in the script to look to Odessa? Just having Tim glimpse over.

Christine: That was all Tim.

John: That was- looking over he was like ‘Oh man, I have watched this little girl since she was 5 years old. I'm not gonna let her down now.’

Christine: Beautiful note.

John: Good fight here, too.

Johnathan: Good fight.

Christine: Great fight. Look at this guy. Oh my god

John: Yeah this is a nice- this is like a toe to toe. We don't do a lot of these.

Christine: This was the first day shooting I think?

Johnathan: Not only first day of shooting, this is-

Christine: Morning right?

Johnathan: This is doubled up with- weren’t we doubled up?

John: Yeah, another show was shooting.

Christine: Oh god we were. I blocked that out.

John: You guys overlapped.

Johnathan: We overlapped, and the crew was on its way to do another thing. 

John: Oh wow, I didn't know that.

Johnathan: Remember that?

Christine: That's right we lost some of the crew.

John: Oh wow, nice snap. I don't remember seeing this version of the cut; this is great. Oh both good spins.

Johnathan: This is, what’s his name? This is Paul Bernard’s stunt buddy from New York; he did a great job.

Christine: He’s fantastic.

John: Yeah and Kevin, our stunt coordinator, did a fantastic job. 

Christine: Great job, look at that.

John: That is a great fight. That might be one of- that's my favorite stick fight, and the fact that they're both very good-

Christine: Look at this guy, this guy’s the best.

Johnathan: Look at this guy. ‘Oh, oh no. Ahhh!’

Johnathan: Moe, Larry, Curly

Christine: Fantastic. Comedy, Frakes, comedy.

Johnathan: Second Three Stooges reference. 

John: Yeah.

Christine: Oh boy.

John: Yeah. 

[Laughter]

John: Yeah, and just Parker’s building frustration here. 

Johnathan: Like, ‘Can you guys shut up?’

Christine: She does a great job. Beth is terrific.

John: As Chris just takes him apart.

Johnathan: This is exactly the tone of this show.

Christine: Oh.

Johnathan: Right here.

[Laughter]

John: Did she kick him?

Christine: The flick of the ponytail.

Johnathan: Yeah, she worked the heel.

John: Yeah, just fantastic. And- I'm- wow, this is a great sequence. This is the first time I've seen that fight cut. That was wonderful.

Christine: It's good cutting in there, too.

Johnathan: The good money.

Christine: The good money, the good, good money.

John: Brian Gonosey right? Brian cut the hell out of this.

Christine: Brian, yes. My friend Brian.

Johnathan: Repeat on the snow.

John: Yeah. You only have so much- so much snow.

Johnathan: I know we need to get some more Boston shots for next year.

John: Totally legally, of course.

[Laughter]

Christine: I don't know what you're talking about.

Johnathan: It takes place in Boston, right? Shot in Portland.

John: Yes it does. Shot in Portland.

Christine: Look at the look on her face.

Johnathan: How convenient is this? ‘She'll be here in a minute.’ Door opens, she comes in, she’s got a bag of money.

Christine: Only got so much time.

Johnathan: Exactly.

John: Hey 42 minutes. 42 minutes, kids.

Johnathan: 42 minutes.

[Laughter]

John: We’re moving. 

Johnathan: It would've been cut anyway.

John: I know! It would've been cut.

Christine: I love how Alan just let the panic kind of- when we cut back to him, he just lets the panic kind of rise from his chest up to his face, essentially.

John: This was a big thing, too, figuring out exactly what the mark was, how-

Christine: Every mark I pitched was the most elaborate, most flirtily designed-

Johnathan: I know, in real life it should be the subtlest mark of all.

Christine: I was all over that.

Johnathan: It should be the most subtle mark of all.

John: Look at that, look at that.

Johnathan: This is a wonderful beat. This, and what Tim does after this, is fabulous.

John: And- but I love- just the way he just wipes his mouth as he gets up, he's like, ‘Alright, we're gonna have to do some violence.’

Christine: ‘We’re doing this. We're doing this.’

John: ‘Don't want to do this, but we have to do this’. And then the-

Johnathan: ‘Ok fine, let me talk my way out of it, if not-’

John: This is a man with a back up plan. Yeah, and Alan really dug in here, sort of just the rage of having his beautiful little plan taken away.

Johnathan: He's a stage boy. This is Eugene O'Neill stuff coming up.

John: Yeah exactly, park your cameras and let the people talk. And these guys were great.

Christine: These guys-

John: Also, great physical casting on these guys.

Christine: Second time he admits he's a loan shark right there, it's great.

John: They look like cops. I mean, it was really brilliant casting- they look like both cops and thugs, it was really nicely done.

Christine: They look like guys from the neighborhood. It worked out really well.

John: And again, one of the themes of the show is the bad guy is always hung by his own sin. You know, it's whatever sin you see him commit early has gotta be what shows up. Yeah, and this guy is fearless, I love this guy. I love them all. 

[Laughter]

Christine: He's hilarious, look at that.

John: We have to bring these guys back.

Christine: We should.

Johnathan: They live there, they could easily-

Christine: I really think we should.

John: Actually, that was a problem, Odessa was from LA, and we want to recur the character and getting her up was impossible.

Johnathan: She wasn't from LA.

John: She was from LA.

Christine: Um, I don't know.

John: Pretty sure, yeah.

Johnathan: No no, she came in-

John: And I love he kind of drops the- he’s got that -

Johnathan: He’s like Muldoon.

John: He's got that long Dublin face. He's got the long, yeah.

Christine: He does, he's like a Joyce character, he's terrific.

John: He is.

Johnathan: No, she's a local who had moved to LA after.

John: That's right, that's right.

Christine: Oh that's what that was.

John: Yeah, he's got the Flanner O'Connell thing going on.

Johnathan: All three of these guys could easily come back. 

John: Yeah.

Christine: Oh yeah.

Johnathan: It’s like Fred Guinn on the right, look at that.

John: Wow, you found the Portland Fred Guinn, amazing. This is one of the longer explanations-  this is actually one of the longer flashbacks we do.

Christine: I love doing these flashes, and they- we always have to cut a whole bunch every time I write.

John: I know, I know.

Johnathan: This is a bleached bypass.

Christine: The first draft of this outline had so many flashes in it.

John: There was-

Christine: The handwritten one that I did-

[Laughter]

John: To be fair, Boylan, sometimes you will write an episode which is mostly flashes, with only two or three things happening in modern times.

Christine: I don't know what you're talking about. I'm trying to screw with your perception of time.

John: The theater thing sometimes gets a little out of control.

Johnathan: Well you milked that Guinness, didn't you?

Christine: What? It was a tiny Guinness.

John: It was a tiny Guinness. She is a tiny girl, it was a tiny Guinness.

Christine: It was a baby Guinness. 

John: And this is- this is great. I love the fact that Nate becomes physically violent here. 

Christine: Oh man.

Johnathan: Yeah.

John: This is- and I'm trying to remember where that came up in the room.

Christine: I forgot who pitched the finger breaking thing.

John: Cause it was originally the cops.

Johnathan: Tim got really involved in this. Tim was very excited about this part of the character, and this moment that's about- that we're all about to see.

John: I think I was the finger breaking, just because of the various times I'd seen it done.

Johnathan: Well no, it's a call back to the finger breaking, a callback-

John: No right, that's why we put it in the old days. But I was trying to remember exactly how we- we had multiple ways to get him out of this room. And then it was like, you know, we really- you really can't just chase him out.

Christine: Yeah.

John: You need somebody to lay the hurt on him. 

Christine: He’s gotta have some damage.

John: And the person who has to do it has to be Nate. And that's great. Again, it backed into the whole- there's a seething angry vicious criminal under Nate Ford at all times.

Johnathan: Here it is- bam and bam!

Christine: Look at that.

John: He so digs in on the- 

Christine: Look at Alan.

John: And Alan is so- cause I’ll tell you, and that was the advice I got back when I was in Montreal. A guy was in the mob, he was a bouncer, told me ‘You know what, all you gotta do is break a man's finger to get his attention for 5 minutes.’ I was like, wow.

Christine: That's good advice.

John: Really good advice. There's no pain like-

Johnathan: And ooh lights out.

Christine: He let loose with so many unholy screams during-

John: And there's something- actually important here, he breaks his finger at the end of the conversation. 

Christine: Yeah.

John: That's an unpleasant thing to do. And the great bit, ‘You're exactly like your father.’ Ahh, that's so great.

Christine: Great breath there.

Johnathan: ‘None of us- I was at the ball game. Were you guys at the ball game?’

John: Huh? No.

Johnathan: That's what they're saying.

John: Oh!

Christine: Yeah ‘I was at the movies. Oh I was at the ball game’

John: ‘I was at the ball game.’ Oh, that's right

Christine: So the families can get the money back.

Johnathan: And then we tried desperately to get the snow to blow into the door on the exit. I’m not sure that we got it.

John: I don't think we got it. Why? ‘Cause it was 107 degrees in a warehouse!

Johnathan: It's 107, where are you guys going?

Christine: The backdoor to the alley, we covered it.

John: And the book, the ledger. And that was again, it's one of those things where you do research, how do loan sharks keep their records? They keep them in stupid coded legers!

Christine: Coded leger. It’s written in stupid pen and ink.

Johnathan: And here's the one of our regulars.

John: Yeah. 

Johnathan: She's so reluctant to give up the money, it's brilliant.

Christine: It’s great.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: Here's a callback to the people in the beginning who have been ripped off.

John: He’s one of our regulars- if you watch, every episode he's at the bar. He's great; he's a local extra who kinda became the- mascot’s not the right word, but he really became, kind of, the extra heart, you know. And booze. Booze for everyone.

Johnathan: Shooters for everybody.

Christine: Hey, you know, end with booze we do get to [] here.

John: Somebody actually asked who drinks, who doesn't drink. Eliot drinks, Hardison doesn't drink well, Parker drinks but it doesn't affect her, Tara drinks a lot, and Nate of course is an alcoholic, just if you're keeping score.

Johnathan: What about Odessa?

Christine: Sophie?

John: Oh Sophie drinks but she only drinks girly- socially.

Christine: Socially. That's my girl.

Johnathan: You think?

John: Well when she's- yeah. She can put it away, but she prefers-

Christine: But she doesn't need to.

Johnathan: But she drinks neat booze.

John: She drinks neat booze. But you know, she's a woman who's trying to escape her past. You know, whatever she used to drink she doesn't drink anymore. I just- ‘No, no, I'm not gonna sleep with your niece at all.’ That was actually- in the original version was, she wandered off, you know, what you need to close up this beat. Yeah.

Johnathan: Ok let's sit down, we've-

Christine: Here we go.

John: She's great, she really is great. And the whole fathers thing here.

Johnathan: We even milked it with the look to the empty father’s seat.

Christine: Oh yeah, look to the chair.

Johnathan: Hopefully it stayed in the cut, let’s see.

John: I don’t know.

Christine: I believe it did.

John: They don't listen to you Frakes. 

Christine: I don't know, we were both adamant about that.

Johnathan: Still doesn't matter.

Christine: Doesn’t matter.

John: We’re just puking up raw material for the brilliance of the editors. 

Christine: The director was here and that chirpy girl, I don't know what they were saying. I think she was drunk, I'm not sure.

John: There's a lot about fathers in this season. Sort of looking at it there's a lot of- there’s Lost Heir, there's the season opener...

Christine: Every good show has daddy issues.

John: Wow that was a really weird voice you said that in; that’s a little disturbing.

Johnathan: My fathers the reason I'm here.

Christine: Aww.

John: Yeah, there you go.

Johnathan: Chair.

John: Chair, there you go you got the chair.

Christine: Cut to the stool. Dad’s office.

John: And he's gonna drink to it, yup.

Johnathan: Cause he hasn't had enough to drink today.

John: No he has not. Well once you start, really-

Christine: Really, what's the point of stopping?

John: Oh that's nice, they've cleaned up behind them, while they're talking.

Johnathan: High and wide.

John: High and wide.

Christine: Times out really nicely.

John: Nicely done.

Christine: Real time.

John: Anything you wanna say to the nice folks?

Johnathan: See you next season.

Christine: See you next season.

John: Thank you Mr. Frakes, that was wonderful. Thank you Boylan, that was wonderful.

Christine: Thanks guys.

John: And again an almost impossible show to do. Usually an impossible job on any show and- on any series and you guys made it one of the best of the 2 years, congratulations.

Johnathan: You're a gentleman and a scholar and a physicist.

[Laughter]

Christine: And a bit of a comedian as well.

John: Every now and then.

Johnathan: I can see you on that stage in the back room.

John: I'm not doing it.

Johnathan: What do you mean?

Christine: You are doing it.

Johnathan: John. 

John: You know what? This screams for a Gilligan cut, ‘I’m not doing it!’

[thirstybtsthoughts]

Decadence

Written by Coconut

Synopsis – You (Namjoon as the reader), thought this would be a regular fansign, like all the previous ones.  Until, a very sweet smelling Army appeared, who knew just the right way to get under your skin

Warnings – absolute filth; dirty language; some degradation; dom!Joon; spanking; biting; mentions of blood; choking; oral sex; vaginal sex; creampie; unprotected sex (use protection guys… even with Joonie!!)

Disclaimer – this is a work of FICTION! I’m in no way claiming that Namjoon would act/think that way irl. This is just MY personal fantasy.

Enjoy!

_______________________________________________________

You tried to resist.  You’re Kim Namjoon, the leader of BTS and she’s an Army. Teasing and flirting was okay but that’s where you should draw the line, right? You need to be an example and a responsible leader. Or… or you could just be a regular boy for once – just a 26 year old boy from Korea, consumed with desire for a girl who feels just the same for you.

You knew she’s trouble the moment your eyes landed on her in the crowd. She was exactly your type, and judging by the way she was looking at you – you were her type too. You payed attention to her as discretely as you could and she definitely did not look at the other members the same way.  When she stood in front of you, you swore the sparks between you could start a fire big enough to burn the entire venue down. The sweet smile on her lips did nothing to hide the mischievousness in her eyes. She looked at you like she wanted to eat you up. This was not new to you. Not to brag but plenty of Armys have looked at you that way since debut, but only a handful of times did you feel the same way about them.

So you didn’t expect to feel that way today. But there you were, the smell of her sugary sweet plum perfume still lingering in your nose even after she moved down the line. Of course she’d wear that perfume.. she’s an Army, she knows your weakness for sweet things. It made your head spin. But there’s an hour left of the fansign and you have to pull yourself together.

Easier said than done. You’re embarrassed to admit but you barely remember anyone that stood in front of you after her.  

It was the 7th anniversary of your debut and after the event there was a party. At random, several fans attending the fansign were selected to attend the after party as well. For over an hour you stood there hoping that she was one of the Armys to come to the party. You thought of sending a signal to a staff member to make sure, but so many eyes were following your every move, you didn’t want to risk making a scene or attracting the other fans’ attention onto her.  You have to thank Seokjin, who, sitting to your right, saw everything and as the perfect wingman found a way to tell the staff to invite her to the party.

And there she was. You chatted for a bit, flirted some more. But you had to mingle with the other guests too, make a toast etc. Yet your eyes were searching for her the whole time. Your heart was beating as if you’re about to commit a crime. You approached her and slipped the spare key card to your room in her hand.

“15 minutes” you whispered in her ear

You swear those 15 minutes felt like years but you finally managed to sneak out of the party and made a beeline for your room. Opening the door, you saw her there, waiting, sitting on the edge the king-sized bed, head turning towards you as soon as she heard you.

As you approached her, she quietly stood up. The look in her eyes told you everything you needed to know. Not wanting to waste another second so you kissed her and she kissed you back. It started a bit slow but pretty quickly you were kissing passionately, hungry for each other’s taste. She tasted sweet, as sweet as she smelled; sweetness that perfectly mixed with the spiciness of the expensive whiskey on your tongue. The way she leaned on you and softly moaned into the kiss showed you that she was enjoying it too.

Responsibilities be damned. You wanted her.  And she wanted you. You slid your hand down her back and gave her ass a hard squeeze, causing her to half moan half yelp in surprise which in turn made you giggle. You had to ask if she’s okay with what you were doing and if she’s sure she wanted you to continue.

“Yes.. Please do” she breathed gently, soft blush appearing on her cheeks

And you did. You let your hands explore every inch of her body, her scent, more intoxicating than any alcohol you’ve ever tasted, and her skin - the softest you’ve ever touched. It woke up some animalistic side in you that wanted to leave marks all over her. You wanted to make her yours.

Unzipping her dress, it easily fell on the floor, followed by your own shirt and pants.

A soft moan escaped your lips when she moved her mouth to your neck, hand tracing over your chest and stomach down to your dick, palming it through your briefs. Her lips followed the path of her hand, slowly making her way down. If you didn’t have any self-control just the sight of her on her knees in front of you, in her matching white lace underwear could have made you cum.

“What do you want baby?” you knew the answer but you wanted to hear it

“I wanna taste you. I want your dick in my mouth” she said, as she teasingly ran her fingernails up and down your thighs.

“It’s all yours baby” you nodded and she slowly tugged your brief down to the floor exposing your already hard dick. You head fell back as she traced the underside of your dick with her tongue before wrapping her mouth around the tip and slowly bobbing her head up and down taking in more and more with each bob. You just about lost it when you felt the vibration of her moan around you. She loved it just as much as you did. You buried your hands in her hair guiding her further down.

“Fuck” you breathed. This girl was so willing to please you, so ready to take every inch of you down her throat, so determined to push past her gag reflex it was actually impressive and extremely sexy.

“There you go baby, that’s it” you said, as you wiped the tear that rolled down her face when she finally took you all in.     

 You pulled out, letting her take a sharp breath which made her cough a bit but she recovered quickly

“Stick your tongue out for me.” Her tongue was out before you even finished the sentence. Her eagerness made you chuckle as you slapped your dick on her tongue a few times before pushing into her mouth again. She teasingly rolled her tongue over the tip, getting ready to take you down her throat again. She looked so fucking good with your dick in her mouth you couldn’t help but thrust forward, the pleading expression on her face letting you know she wants it too

“Do you like it when I fuck your face like this baby?”

She hummed in agreement, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

 “Such a filthy little mouth… I swear I would cum in there baby. But not yet. Stand up” you order as you pull out.

Wiping the tears off her rosy cheeks and the saliva from her chin, you pull her in for a deep kiss.  You gently led her back to the bed and climbed on top of her without breaking the kiss. You nibbled on her lower lip, then her chin, then moved to her neck making sure to suck and bite extra hard and mark your new territory.   Once that was done you did the same to her collarbones and kept moving down. You ripped the delicate bra off of her and squeezed one of her boobs making her gasp and moan beneath you as your kept working on leaving marks all over your Army, that won’t disappear for at least a week.  Your hand travelled down, gently spreading her legs apart, finding her panties completely soaked and stuck to her pretty pussy.

“Is that all for me? I’ve barely touched you yet“ you ask as you trace the wet patch with a finger.   

“Yes, yes, it’s all for you. Because of you. Ever since the fansign” she whines softly

“Cute” you teased “I hope you’ve brought a spare pair of panties”

It made you wonder though, how many Armys stood in front of you that day with their panties soaked just because you were so close to them?

It was your turn to get a taste as you kneeled between her legs. You didn’t have much patience left for teasing but you couldn’t help but leave a few bite marks up and down her thighs before planting a few kisses over the soaked panties making her buck forward craving more friction.

“Mhmm.. Joonie….More” her moans were hot but hearing her moan your name was, oh, so much hotter. You slid her panties off of her, throwing them somewhere behind you determined to make her moan your name again and again until she screams it. You spread her folds with your fingers coating them in her wetness before lifting them up to your lips and sucking on them.

“You’re so sweet baby” you groan from between her legs as you tease her entrance with two fingers, slowly pushing them in

“Joonie.. mmph..Please..” she bucked forward again desperate for your touch.

“ I’m here baby” pulling back, teasing her entrance with your fingers you traced a line with your tongue from her opening to her clit, wrapping your lips around it, tongue flicking up and down lapping up all the sweet nectar your Army had to offer. Her pussy was drenched; your fingers entering with ease making her moan and tug on your hair. She was panting and squirming beneath you as you kept working with your mouth and fingers, sending her quickly over the edge.

 “Joonie.. ah I’m co- oh .. I’m CoMiiing.. JOoON!” She screamed as she tugged your head harder into her pussy, cumming on your tongue.

 Once she calmed down, you stood up over her enjoying the view.

“Beautiful. Look at yourself. So wet and ready for me. I can’t wait to stretch this pretty little pussy with my dick. Isn’t that what you want?”

 “Yes, Joon, Please stretch my pussy, please” she pleaded with a pout you could not resist

 “Army’s wishes are my command, baby”

You leaned over her, adjusting the tip of your dick on her entrance and without hesitation you thrust harshly into her making her take you all in.

 “Oh fuck, Joon.. You’re so big” she gasped

“Ah, shit” your grunt following her gasp “Your pussy’s so fucking tight baby. Damn, you feel so good” 

You pin her hands above her head by the wrists and start to move in and out of her in slow but hard thrusts, bottoming out every time.

The little whines that come out of her red lips were driving you mad. Without changing the pace of your thrusts, you lean down for a kiss and nearly forgot to breathe when she swiped her tongue along your lower lip quickly following up with a teasing bite.  The little devilish smile on her face told you she knew she was driving you just as crazy as you drove her. You pulled away and grabbed the underside of her legs, behind her knees and pushed them towards her body as far down as you could, effectively folding her in half, her needy pussy on full display for you. Without a second thought you wrapped a hand around her throat lightly squeezing it as you start to roughly pump in and out of her

“You just can’t stop teasing huh? You can’t help yourself. I saw all the lewd winks you send my way at the fansign, in front of everyone. How shamelessly you leaned over the table to get closer. Is this what you wanted? Am I close enough now?”

“Ah, fuck,” gripping on to the sheets she whined between small gasps “yes, Joon, this.. is ..exactly what I wanted. Please, keep giving it to me, please, please keep fucking me just like that”

“You’re so cute when you beg, baby”

“Oh my God, your dick feels so good, Joon” She was close, you could feel her clenching around you; you could see the hazed look on her face as her legs were starting to shake, so you kept up your relentless pace sending her over the edge yet again.  

You didn’t do this often. Hooking up with fans was risky. But the handful of times you did do it, you made sure you fucked your Army completely stupid. And tonight would not be an exception. Only the best for your fans.

As she was coming gown from her high you pulled out and gently helped her sit on the edge of the bed. She looked up at you, drowsily, eyes hazy with lust.

“Get on your knees, on the bed. I’m not done with you yet”

She followed your instructions immediately. Her willingness to submit to you excited you to no end.

There she was, your Army, bending down on the bed, her back arched, ass up, gently swaying it left and right, ready to take whatever you were willing to give her.

You positioned yourself between her legs and landed a harsh slap on her perfect ass.

“Joonie.. I like it. Hit me harder” she cried out in pleasure, earning another much harder slap from you. Her sweet little cries were like music to your ears. Her hips bucked backwards desperate for you. You dug your hands into the soft flesh, holding it in place.

“What a greedy Army you turned out to be.” You growled “You can’t even last a minute without my dick in your desperate little cunt, can you”

You grabbed one of the pillows and put it beneath her hips, knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to stay on her knees for long once you begin. You aligned your dick with her dripping core and immediately started slamming into her at a brutal pace.

“Such a little slut for me aren’t’ you?” *slap*  “ Your cunt is taking me so well baby” *slap* *slap* “ Just like that.. My good Army” *slap*

Her ass was red with your palm prints.  Desperate mewls, low grunts and an array of filthy noises filled the room.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please Joonie…“

And you didn’t. You kept pounding into her at a steady ruthless pace; following her even after you felt her tremble and collapse forward on the bed.  She was now lying on her stomach, ass, slightly raised by the pillow beneath her, with you on top of her, fucking her senseless into the mattress. You felt the familiar spasms in her pussy as she screamed, cuming for the third time.

But you did not stop. You kept pounding into her over and over again, trying to reach your own peak

“How is your cunt still so fucking tight baby?” you grunted into her neck right before you bit into it, making her moan and lean her head back into you.

“You, like that huh? You want me to do it again? I’ll bite till I see blood” you warned, but all she did was hum and nod, giving you permission.

As if she’d ever deny you anything.

At that moment you realized you didn’t have to make her yours – she already was.

And you bite, till a small drop with a sweet metallic taste rolls on your tongue, spreading a fire inside of you, you could barely contain.    

“Cum in me, Joonie… Cum for me” she pleaded

“Yeah? You want me to stuff that pretty little cunt of yours with my cum?” You were so close.

“Yeah, Joonie. I want you to full me up, I wanna be your cumslut” she whines beneath you.

“Whose cumslut, baby?”

“Yours.. “

“Whose?” you sternly ask again, thrusts not ceasing even for a second

“Nam- joon’s.. I wanna be KIM NAMJOON’S CUMSLUT..” she screamed. Utterly wrecked, she clenched her walls around you once more

And that’s all it took.

“Shit, shit.. uugh.. Just like that baby, milk every last drop of me into your needy cunt” Your body tensed up, releasing all the build-up tension into her.

You let out a low, rough grunt as you slipped out and collapsed on the bed next to her, relief washing over you; both of your bodies covered in drops of sweat, strands of hair sticking to your foreheads.

“That was.. amazing..” she hummed, a satisfied smile on her lips, eyes barely focusing

“Yeah, it was” You agreed, as you gently touched the red skin surrounding the bite mark you just left on her neck “Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m okay, just exhausted” she smiled at you “Wait, Joon? Shit, you said you wanted to cum in my mouth didn’t you?” She suddenly remembered your promise from earlier

“We’ll have to leave that for breakfast, baby” you said sleepily as you wrapped your arms around her, burying your face into her hair, letting the sweet plum scent in her locks lull you to sleep.

FIN

___________________________________________

ASBDHJDBAJBFHJAEBHF

GIRL THIS WAS SO HOT OMG

I loved it 🥵🥵🥵🥵

For most of the way through all I could think was damnnn, she’s one lucky af army 😂😂

The part where she was moaning his name and he says “I’m here baby” ajnjfblqjefb I WAS A PUDDLE ISTG, I can hear it coming from his mouth so clearly and mann that did it for me 💦💦💦💦

Your writing is wonderful! Thank you so much for sharing!

- 🐰 

[lettheladylead]

Title: A Night Out Ship: Baloo/Rebecca Summary:  Rebecca decides to have a night out and goes with Baloo to hang at Louie's Place. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30942905

It wasn’t often that she humored Baloo by coming along with him to Louie’s (or that he humored her by not complaining too much when she asked). But Kit had been begging to babysit more to earn money for some new toy he wanted and Rebecca had to admit...she could use a night off. Molly was an angel, but she’d been very needy the past few days.

And it wasn’t like she had any other friends to spend time with.

So off to Louie’s they went, though Baloo was side eyeing her the entire flight there, clearly suspicious of her motivations. They’d been out before and it wasn’t a problem! She’d been to Louie’s before, no issues about it. He had no reason to think that she was being sneaky.

“So, Becks…”

“What?”

Baloo tapped his fingers against the wheel. “...you’re not gonna try to get Louie in trouble again, are ya? He’s real sorry ‘bout what happened last time!”

Rebecca scrunched her brow at her partner’s words before the memory of her last visit to Louie’s hit her: one of his regulars had groped her and Louie didn’t kick him out until she threatened to call the police. She’d completely forgotten about it thanks to how busy she’d been with work and Molly starting school soon.

“It’s fine, Baloo,” she finally replied, rolling her eyes at his loud sigh of relief. “Just so long as it doesn’t happen again.”

“Oh, no worries there!” Baloo smiled at her as the Sea Duck started down towards the water. “I personally told Ralphie to never darken Louie’s door again!”

Rebecca huffed and turned to look at the pilot next to her, thinking he was making fun of her. She stared at his face to see a surprisingly serious expression - and not his standard Gotta Land This Plane Safely look. She took another moment of staring at his profile before turning away with a slight blush on her cheeks. She’d had a long week, maybe a night of drinking too much would be exactly the break she needed.

-

And they were making fun of her.

They were always making fun of her, but this time she tried to play along and then it just made it worse and now she was stuck with these two boys who bounced off one another like a comedy routine while she nursed a drink that she didn’t really know what it was but it tasted good and it was her third one and she was feeling quite a lot more relaxed than she normally would have when being mocked by two absolute morons.

“Ahhh, Becky, Becky, Becky,” Louie cooed at her. “You really should drink some water. Baloo tells me you’re quite the lightweight!”

“No, no, you got it all wrong!” Baloo said with a smirk, taking a big gulp from his beer. “I didn’t say she’s a lightweight, I said she fights me about my weight!”

They laughed together - a lot harder than Rebecca thought was necessary for such a bad joke - and she responded by taking a bigger swig of her drink than she probably should’ve. She hadn’t stood up since arriving and she knew once she did, all the alcohol would hit her at once. It was nice to know she could trust Baloo to get her home safe, at least. If nothing else, he was a good guy.

“Don’t you two have any material that isn’t at my expense?” she said, leaning on one arm. “Like if there was a different girl here, how would you entertain her?”

Louie and Baloo locked eyes for a quick moment before turning back to her. “If there was a different girl here, then we’d be having a very different -”

Baloo cut off his friend with a hand over his mouth and glared. Louie shrugged and laughed as the bear pulled his hand away. “What he’s trying to say, Becks, is that you’re a classy lady. Louie’s Place doesn’t get a lot of classy ladies, so most of our jokes aren’t exactly your style.”

“Oh? Since when do you care about my style?” Rebecca laughed, snorting once and immediately trying to hide it by taking another sip of her drink. “Considering the kinds of things you say to me on a daily basis, I can’t imagine you’re holding back.”

“Izzat true, Baloo?” Louie elbowed him and faked a shocked look on his face. “Are you not treating your lady here with respect?”

Baloo glared. “Not my lady,” he started as a quiet mumble. “...and yes, Becky, I do hold back a lot out of respect for you!”

She took another sip, raising a suspicious eyebrow at him. “Is that why you told me my new pants make my ass look fat?”

Louie’s burst out into laughter as Baloo blushed, glaring at his friend and then glaring down at Rebecca. “N-no, I mean...you asked for my honest opinion! I’m a spontaneous guy! I say things without thinking sometimes!”

“Sometimes, sure, alright.” Rebecca smirked, feeling proud that she’d produced the biggest laugh of the night so far. “I don’t think spontaneity is an excuse for pissing me off every other day.”

Baloo frowned at that, looking over to Louie for some help, but the monkey just shrugged and grabbed his own drink to focus on that for a minute. Baloo huffed before taking another long gulp of his beer and decided to go on the offensive. “That’s just ‘cause you don’t know anything about being spontaneous! Sometimes you piss people off, that's just how it goes!”

She sent him both a pout and a glare before opening her mouth again. “Says you! I’m not just some stuffy, boring office woman! I can surprise people!”

Baloo let out a harsh laugh, though this time Louie didn’t join in, opting to stare awkwardly between the two bears instead. “Come on, Becks, no point in pretending to be something you’re not!”

Rebecca dramatically slammed down her glass and glared at him again. Then she glared down at the bar and huffed before gripping the edge of the table and standing up. She climbed up onto the bar and tossed her hands in the air. “See? You didn’t expect this, did you?”

A moment later and the rush of drunkenness flooded to her head and Rebecca quickly sat down, her legs swinging off the edge of the bar. Baloo and Louie locked eyes again and Louie moved towards the sink to grab her some water.

Baloo slid closer to her - his elbow lightly grazing the edge of her thigh. “Yeah, so, standing on a bar isn’t as crazy as you seem to think it is. If you ever do something really unexpected, I’ll let ya know.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Like what?”

“I dunno!” Baloo shrugged, looking over at Louie to see the monkey struggling to find a clean glass. “You gotta take people by surprise! Make ‘em speechless. I’ve had too many beers to come up with somethin’ now, but trust me, you'll have to try much harder to catch me off-guard.”

Rebecca let out a hmph! as she thought about his words. They wandered through her muddled mind and her eyes widened as the perfect way to prove her spontaneity came to her. Plus - it was guaranteed to make Baloo speechless.

She looked over at him and before he could even ask what she was doing, Rebecca grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him to her while she leaned forward. Her lips crashed against his and she squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of him pushing her away and calling her crazy.

For a brief moment, her fear wasn’t wrong. Initially, his eyes grew as big as dinner plates and the red on his cheeks was not just because of the alcohol. He was certainly tempted to push her off, but mostly because she was drunk and they’d never done anything like that before. Well, either she was hiding some intense feelings for him or she really wanted to prove him wrong...or both. Whichever her reasons, he felt his heart do backflips as the realization of what was happening set it.

At least ten seconds passed with neither of them moving, and then all at once, they came together. Baloo set his beer down and moved one hand to her waist while the other crawled around her back, cradling her closer to him as he leaned in to deepen the kiss.

Rebecca kept her hands wrapped up in his shirt collar, but tightened her grip as she tilted her head and slightly opened her mouth against his in a clear attempt to bring their kiss to the next level. She wanted to be shocked by his reciprocity, but she was really just focusing on the feeling of his hands wrapped around her. She’d kissed him before, as a joke, but only light pecks and he’d never kissed back. This was something very new.

Baloo followed her lead and pulled her even closer to him - her knee bumped against his chest - as the hand that was on her back moved up to the back of her head. He tilted his head, too, and pushed a little more towards her - relishing the tiny little, satisfied-sounding noise that came from her throat. He wouldn’t dare call it a moan, but it was definitely something. Never in a million years had he imagined this actually, really happening. He’d barely imagined it in his head! But…

“Whoa!”

The two bears broke apart at the sudden sound of Louie’s voice. Never thinking of manners or social graces, he gave them a big confused smile. “Should I give you two the room?”

Baloo and Rebecca were breathing a little heavily and staring into each other’s eyes as he spoke. Baloo’s hands slowly moved down to cradle her hips while her grip on his shirt loosened to the point where he could easily pull away. Instead they stared for another few seconds before Rebecca finally spoke.

“I…” she said quietly. “I...need to use the ladies’ room!”

The pilot didn’t react as she quickly jumped away from him and hobbled towards the bathroom, occasionally losing her balance and grabbing bar stools or tables to get upright again. Baloo stayed exactly as he was before, only turning his head slightly to watch her walk away.

Louie placed the glass of water in front of him. “My man...what was that?”

Baloo didn’t bother trying to hide the dark blush on his face. “I, uh...I’m...I’m not sure.”

“Well,” Louie leaned onto the counter. “It definitely wasn’t nothing!”

“Gee, thanks, Captain Obvious,” Baloo grumbled at his friend. “She was just tryin’ to prove that she can be spontaneous. I guess.”

“Uh huh. That looked like a lot more than her tryin' to prove somethin’, buddy.”

Baloo copied Louie and leaned onto the counter, partially covering his mouth with his hand. He could still feel her lips on his and it made him feel a lot of funny feelings. “...yeah, I know.”

Louie raised an eyebrow. “Wanna tell me what’s goin’ through that thick head of yours?”

Baloo huffed and opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by a voice that made him blush once again.

“I’d like to go home now.”

She was already turned around and walking towards the door before Baloo and Louie could see the look on her face. But the way she was cradling her purse seemed like she wasn’t in the best mood anymore. No doubt she was embarrassed, but Baloo was stuck wondering exactly what kind of embarrassed and how awkward this would be in the morning and if there was anything he could do to fix it.

And, well. If he wanted to fix it...or if he wanted to see where it could go. He wasn’t really sure about anything at that particular moment. He also wasn’t sure he should fly the Sea Duck after the amount of beer he’d had, but it wouldn’t be his first time flying with a buzz. Probably not the last, either.

He looked back at Louie and shrugged. “Maybe next time.”

Louie responded with a short laugh. “Baloo, if anything happens between you two, you’d better give me more than a maybe!”

Baloo rolled his eyes and chuckled in embarrassment before stomping off after his partner. He didn’t know what to expect for the ride home, but he was certain it was going to be the most awkward ride of his life.

Fortunately, when he climbed up into his plane, he found Rebecca curled up in the passenger seat, snoring loudly. He wondered for a moment if she was faking, but decided it didn’t really matter. Neither of them were ready to have a conversation about what happened and that wasn’t changing anytime soon.

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 5 || Soft Tones in Which to Whisper

Warnings: Mentions of abuse.

Words: 3200+

Previous || Next

~5~

Barry made sure that Iris was wrapped tightly in his jacket when they left the café, her second cup of tea cradled between her hands to keep her palms warm. Her arms were through the sleeves this time, making her look absolutely tiny with how much she had to bunch it at the wrists to free her hands. Barry had also been able to slip her arm through his before she could stick it in her pocket, so she was pressed close to his side as they made their way in the direction of her apartment building.

 Barry and the others had walked this street many times, but they’d never realized that their soulmate was so close. She lived between where he lived and where Dr. Fletcher’s office was located, a comfortable walking distance between both. It made him wonder if that was the fate of the soulmark at work. Was she drawn to where he lived and instinctively moved close?

A particularly strong gust of wind nearly blew Iris’s hood back but Barry was sure to catch it before it could expose her now-dry hair. He’d already finished his tea at the previous intersection, throwing in into the overflowing garbage can that was near the street-lamp.

 “Thanks,” she stuttered, shivering against the cold that went down her neck. His coat definitely helped, however, so she wasn’t nearly as cold as she could have been. “I didn’t really think before I left my apartment. Fletcher had called me and when I found out you were there, and you were struggling as bad as me…”

 “I don’t hold it against you,” Barry assured. The smile that he offered made her heart flutter softly, clutching her cup a bit tighter between her hands.  “You were worried about me?”

 “Yea,” she admitted, nodding against the urge to duck her head down in a mixture of shame and embarrassment. “I hated that I knew you weren’t sleeping and it was because of me.” A strong shiver wracked through her body, causing her to tremble against him. “So I kinda ran out without a coat…”

 His smile remained endearing as he gently tugged her arm to draw her in closer, feeling when she rested her head on his bicep. “Well I’m touched,” he teased while she tipped her head enough that it was still resting on his arm but she could look up at him. “Are we close?” he asked calmly, turning to look around them. It was late enough that there was no one else out—even the road was empty of cars.

 “Yea, right through the intersection,” she answered while motioning ahead of them. “See the three story white brick building? I’m on the top floor, far right.”

 Barry looked over the building that she was pointing at. It wasn’t anything fancy or expensive looking. The building had probably been there for as long as the city was around—he was pretty sure the walls were more paint than brick at this point. However, he also knew from the short hours that he and Iris had been talking, she was simple and easily pleased. She didn’t want anything fancy or expensive, and comfort was found as long as it was her own space.

 “How long have you lived there?”

 Iris’s lips pursed as she quickly backtracked the time she had spent in that apartment. “Just over three years this summer. The previous place I was in was great, but the landlord kept raising my rent more and more and eventually I couldn’t afford it. So I left.”

 “How much are you paying for this place? If you don’t mind me asking.” Barry tapped the walk signal when they reached the intersection, able to see the building more clearly from the new vantage.

 “Eight-hundred, all inclusive,” she answered honestly, sounding slightly proud of herself. “I was almost at eleven-hundred at the previous place and it was almost the same size, so I’m rather happy with this one.” Barry was relieved to know that she wasn’t being too overcharged for her place, but he knew that small studio apartments were always more than they were really worth.

 He was definitely relieved to be where he was, especially since there was enough space for each of the alters to have a room of their own. That thought made him wonder about bringing Iris over to the Zoo sometime soon, but he knew that he should wait for her to meet some of the others first. She knew they existed and she seemed okay with the idea, but it was very different to know something in theory than be faced with it in reality.

 Once they had crossed the intersection to get to Iris’s building, Barry found himself growing more and more reluctant to let her go. “I live just down that way,” Barry started abruptly, motioning in the direction they had been heading all evening, passed Iris’s apartment. “It’s…a bit of a peculiar place to live, but we need a certain set-up for all of us, ya know?”

 “Peculiar?” Iris repeated as her face scrunched up faintly in thought. What exactly did peculiar entail?

 “Yea…” Barry sudden quieted, not wanting to bring it up. What kind of place to live was the old basement of a zoo? If not for Dennis that place probably wouldn’t even be considered sanitary or liveable. “I mean, it’s not any regular apartment, and we don’t really have enough money for a house that would fit everyone, so-”

 Iris interrupted his rambling softly with a call of his name, “Barry.” Her hand came to rest on his cheek, still warm from her tea even though the cool wind had been battling against her bare skin. “I’ve lived my whole life with a ‘peculiar’ set-up. Believe me, I’ve come to live with a very…open mind.”

 “I…really?” Barry breathed in relief, letting his shoulders relax as he leaned into her touch ever so gently. Iris smiled up at him at the action, her whiskey eyes looking like amber beneath the streetlight. Her thumb stroked against his cheek gently to further calm him, while she openly stared up at him with surprising adoration.

 Looking down at her now, he truly did want to do nothing more than protect her; to shield her from the world that they had been brought into—a world that was too much for Kevin. Wrapped in his large coat, her hand barely visible as it cradled her cup to her chest, the other continuing to caress his cheekbone, she looked so tiny and frail.

 “Do you-” Iris began but stopped suddenly, almost as though she was second-guessing herself. Shaking her head, an action that told him she was trying to dispel bad thoughts, she continued, “Would you like to come up? I think it’s time I was completely honest as well.”

 As though to stop her, Barry’s hand came up to clasp the one resting on his cheek and held her in place. “What do you mean, completely honest?”

 “I haven’t lied to you,” she assured, knowing how her words must have come across. “But…I assume Dr. Fletcher brought some things up that she knew about me and I feel I should be as open with you as you have with me. You told me the truth about the other identities—the other marks—and about Kevin and how you all came to be in order to keep him safe. I only want to return the favour, and be open with you in return.”

 Using the hand that Barry was holding, Iris turned and gently tugged him after her. Of course he could have stopped her if he was opposed to the idea, but in complete honesty he was just glad that they didn’t have to part ways just yet. So, instead, he let her lead him into the building. It was relieving to see that the front door was locked, Iris only releasing his hand to briefly turn the lock before she had reclaimed it and was guiding him to the stairs. Once they were in the stairwell, away from the doors of the other tenants, she explained quietly that the building didn’t have an elevator.

 In turn, he had commented that it was no wonder she was so skinny.

 She didn’t release his hand until they had arrived to her floor, pulling out her keys once more as she quietly opened the door to her own apartment. Slipping in as though trying to hide something, she looked mildly hesitant when she glanced back at him before she offered a shy smile and stepped aside.

 Having Barry enter her apartment only made the small studio look even tinier. He wasn’t overly tall, maybe bordering on six feet, but he was still much taller than her and he was more than twice as broad. Her apartment wasn’t too cold, but Iris almost immediately moved to turn on her little heater just to be extra certain. Once the faint hum of the heater filled the space, Iris turned to look over to Barry to gauge his reaction.

 His attention was away from her for the moment, looking around the small space. Upon entering, her bed was only a few feet away and the kitchen sat a few feet across from the foot of the bed, one step up to elevate it from the ‘bedroom’. The closet-alcove was to the right of the entrance—the kitchen to the left—and the door to the bathroom was on the opposite side of the bed on the wall the headboard was pressed against. Two small windows allowed her to look out onto the street they had just been on, sealed tight and always locked.

 “I know it’s not much—it’s absolutely tiny, really—but it’s home,” she mumbled while setting her cup onto the nearest counter and began to pull off Barry’s jacket.

 “It suits you,” he answered in complete honestly, looking away from her simple kitchen to offer her a smile instead. “Where I live may be bigger, but I do share it with twenty-two others, so…”

 Iris smiled in relief at his acceptance as her heart calmed. “Well, uhm…I don’t suppose you want another tea?” When Barry laughed and shook his head, Iris flushed slightly and nodded in agreement. She’d been prepared to make him anything if he asked for it—she wasn’t accustomed to having company over. “Well, you can get comfortable? Look around?” she offered, motioning to her sparse belongings. “I’ll just be a minute.”

 Turning into the bathroom and quickly shutting the door, Iris took a moment to calm herself.

 She’d met her soulmate.

 She’d gone back for him.

 And now he was standing in her apartment.

 Knowing that if she stopped she was going to overthink everything, Iris just turned away from the door and barely glanced at her reflection on her way into the room. She hadn’t properly wiped off her makeup from work so the black of her mascara and eyeliner had run down to make the shadows worse beneath her eyes, and her hair was an absolute mess from not having been brushed.

 Instead of bothering to make herself presentable after having been with him as she was for so many hours, Iris just wiped her fingers beneath her eyes to remove excess makeup, and pulled her long hair into a tail over her shoulder.

 Washing her hands and taking one brief moment to collect herself, Iris unlocked the door and stepped out. Barry was now standing in her kitchen as he looked at the wall of teas that she had been accumulating—majority of which were new from the past week of no sleep. He turned to look at her when he heard the door open and pointed to the display in front of him.

 “That’s a lot of tea,” he commented in awe, getting a laugh from Iris that she tried desperately to smother and only ended up snorting through her nose. That only made Barry laugh as he looked at her sheepish face endearingly.

 “I was hoping an herbal tea would help me sleep, so I went a bit overboard,” she admitted with a timid shrug, tugging on the hem of her large sweater. “You sure you don’t want one?” she asked again, however, he declined again. Instead, he politely excused himself to the washroom as Iris moved to the kitchen to take the kettle out of the sink from where she had dropped in when Fletcher called earlier.

 It had only been a few hours but somehow it felt like days since the setback she had in the shower, and since Fletcher had spooked her into dropping the kettle. It also brought to her attention that she hadn’t eaten dinner. However, the distraction of everything had her forgetting all about her hunger. The tea had at least filled her enough that her stomach wasn’t a bother.

 She had just placed her keys and cellphone on the counter when Barry stepped out of the washroom. Iris only gave a brief glance in her peripheral as he was stepping out, but she had to turn for a full look when she realized he had removed his gloves and beanie while he was in there. The sight of his closely buzzed hair, so close to being shaved that she figured it was probably just growing out. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to be under the beanie, but somehow she couldn’t picture him with any other style than that.

 Barry noticed the stare she had on his head and reached up to self-consciously rub at it. The prickly texture was something he was still getting used to, having shaved it for so long. “Not the smartest hair-style for winter, huh?”

 His comment made Iris realize that she had been staring and guilt tugged at her gut. “Maybe not, but it suits you,” she assured with a smile. “And it’s a good thing you look good with a beanie.”

 The unsure posture that Barry was standing with disappeared with her comment, the easy-going smile coming back. “So, you wanted to be completely honest?” he prodded gently, returning their earlier conversation to the forefront. Iris was relieved that he had, otherwise she probably would have lost the nerve and tried to dance around the subject.

 Motioning for him to sit on the bed, which was the only place to sit since she had no table or chairs, Iris joined him once she had kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs under her. “I said earlier that I hadn’t finished school,” she began, getting an encouraging nod from Barry when he remembered that particular comment. She’d been scared when she’d said it, he realized, but he would never judge her for that. “It’s because I ran away from home when I was fifteen. I had to get away from my parents, so I just left.”

 Barry’s hands clenched against the gloves he was holding, causing the tendons to pop out against the backs of his palms.

 “I lived on the streets for a bit, saving all the money I could and working odd jobs. Most of the time I stayed in shelters. When I was eighteen, I worked really hard to get a permanent job so I could find a place to live. At first I worked as a hostess in a restaurant, but the people were so rude that I left. That’s when I applied for Pages of the World, and I’ve been there ever since.”

 Barry’s throat felt raw when he spoke up, “You didn’t have a home?” he forced out, hating how the words made his chest ache.

 Iris reached out to take his hands in hers gently while coaxing the death grip he had on his gloves to relax. “For two years, no, I had no home. But I learned a lot in that time. My parents taught me to love my marks, because nothing they could do would ever take them from me; and being out on the streets taught me to love and cherish the few things I had. That’s why a tiny apartment with one good coat and some overpriced tea leaves is all I really need.”

 He released his gloves to turn his hands over and take her hands within his, letting his large hands cradle the small, delicate fingers that had tenderly brushed along his skin.

 “You said you lived somewhere peculiar, so all of you could have space. I’ve shared bunks with girls younger than me, who ran from homes far worse than mine. I’ve slept in alleys before—and that did not always end well. But, again, I learned from it.”

 Thinking back to the time she had spent on the street, as brief as it may have been, made Iris’s eyes burn with tears as memories flooded her mind. She had good memories of people she had met and things she had accomplished, but just like with her parents there were always things to tarnish the good memories—but only if she let them. Some things stuck around—she was still afraid of entering a room with a door too wide open because of the fear that someone will force themselves in behind her, or that her marks would be seen and she’d be chased across town by the unmarked.

 Barry immediately caught on to the glistening of her eyes, instantly knowing that they were unshed tears. Releasing her hands to instead take her into his arms like he had in Fletcher’s building, Barry softly shushed her as he shuffled in close to her body. “It’s alright, Sweetheart, ain’t nothing gunna get you now. You’ve got us on your side, and we protect our own.”

 Iris released a laughing sob as she nodded against his shoulder, but remained leaned in close. Barry didn’t seem to mind what-so-ever and continued to hold her close as he rocked her from side to side, continuing to whisper assurances against her hair and into her ear. She shook faintly against his body as she leaned into him, her breath hot against the side of his neck as she tried to regulate her breathing to calm herself down.

 Breathing in Barry’s smell as she leaned against him to take in his warmth, Iris came to realize why so many people seemed to change entirely after they had met their soulmate. There was a shift in everything. The world faded back and they came to find the relaxation of having their destined other half there.

 Iris had never felt calmer or more welcome than when she was being held by Barry, and she was sure that when she met the other identities it would be the same. Although she assumed they would all offer her different types of comfort; they would each offer her what they were meant to give.

 Barry could feel when she began to relax again, her steady breaths offering her a reprieve as she leaned heavily against him. She felt as though she weighed nothing, so it was easy when Barry manoeuvred the two of them down to lay on the mattress with their heads hitting the soft pillows. Iris didn’t react immediately, but she soon curled into him until her head was tucked beneath his chin once more.

 “Will you stay?” she asked sleepily a few minutes later, lying nearly limp against him.

 Barry, who was feeling the same lure of sleep, gave a sleepy smile against her hair as he nodded. “Couldn’t chase me away, Sweetheart.”

 “Good,” she mumbled, sounding as though she was just barely on the cusp of awareness. “Because I already messed up once.”

Previous || Next

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 1

A/N: To celebrate William “Thirst Trap” Nylander’s birthday last Friday, I’m going to do a double post this week!  (Also maybe because he’s technically not in this chapter).  Make sure you set your clocks for Thursday at 7:30pm cause that’s when I’ll post Chapter 2.  Chapter 3 will then proceed next Monday on our regular once-a-week schedule.

September 3rd, 2019

Aberdeen Bloom was still looking for a job.

She was still sending out her resume to companies.  She was still making follow-up phone calls.  She was still creating alert notifications for jobs she’d be interested in.  She was still going for interviews.  She was still shaking hands and thanking people for their time.  She was still writing follow-up thank you emails.  She was still getting rejection calls.  She was still submitting work to writing contests and magazines.  She was still getting “It’s not what we’re looking for right now” emails.  

She sighed.

So maybe getting the dream gig was harder than she thought.

It wasn’t like the bank had let her go.  She was still earning something to keep her afloat, but it was the bank.  It wasn’t writing, it wasn’t anything else.  It was the same stuff every single day and Aberdeen was starting to resent it.  She didn’t move downtown to stay a bank teller.  She moved downtown to start her career, and this was not starting her career.

But then a phone call came on Sunday – peculiar, she thought, since it was a long weekend and had expected everybody and their mothers to be at a cottage – asking if she wanted to come in for an interview.  To MLSE.  For the personal assistant job.  Aberdeen didn’t even remember applying to MLSE.  But she was desperate, so she said yes, and now she found herself looking in the mirror with her best “interview outfit” on ready to ace it.

She took a deep breath.  She could do this.  She packed her bag, made sure she had her wallet at keys, and left the condo, deciding to walk the short way to 50 Bay Street so she could pick up breakfast on the way.  Even while eating the ham and swiss sandwich, she could feel the butterflies in her stomach – it didn’t calm her nerves at all.  For some reason, she felt like this was her last chance to build something towards her career.  If she didn’t, she’d be stuck bank-telling forever.  When she stood outside the doors of 50 Bay Street, she took a deep breath before walking in.

“When you arrive, tell the receptionist you are looking for Frances Munro” the woman on the other line had told her when she called for the interview.  As she approached the receptionist, she tried to look as confident as possible.  “Hi, my name is Aberdeen Bloom.  I’m here for an interview with, um, Frances Munro?”

“Aberdeen Bloom?” another voice called out.  

Aberdeen looked up to see another woman lurking in the back, a clipboard in hand, dressed impeccably well.  “Yes.  Hi.”

The woman looked at her.  Aberdeen could see her give a quick up-down.  “Great.  Human resources certainly has an odd sense of humour,” she quipped, chuckling for nobody but herself.  “Follow me.”

Aberdeen did as she was told, giving a polite nod to the receptionist who was already ignoring her.  She circled around the desk and followed Frances, who walked through the door but didn’t hold it open.  “Okay, so I was Brendan’s personal assistant but I recently got promoted so now I’m looking for someone else,” Frances explained.

“Oh, so you’re replacing yourself.”

“Well, I’m trying to.  We tried to be proactive and hire early but the last two Brendan sacked after only a few weeks.  We need to find someone who can survive here – who can survive Brendan’s schedule and survive the pressure of the Leafs.  Do you understand?”

“Yes.  Absolutely.”  Aberdeen looked around awkwardly.  “Who is Brendan?”

“What?” Frances stopped dead in her tracks to look back at Aberdeen.  “Oh my God, I will pretend did not just ask me that – Brendan Shanahan, he’s the president of the Toronto Maple Leafs,” she practically hissed at her, continuing her walk.  “Not to mention a hockey legend.  If you work a year for him you can get a job in any adjacent field you want – sports, media, journalism, writing, whatever.  A million people would kill for this job.”

Writing.  Writing.  WRITING!!!!!  Alarm bells were going off in Aberdeen’s ears.  “It sounds like a great opportunity.  I’d love to be considered.”

Frances giggled, pushing her clipboard up to cover the smile on her face.  They had stopped in front of a series of doors and Aberdeen felt like she was going to have to pick the one without the tiger in it.  “Aberdeen…the Toronto Maple Leafs are a hockey club.  An interest in hockey…even just a little bit, is crucial,” she explained condescendingly.  Aberdeen wondered how someone like this could even get promoted.  “Do you play hockey?

“No.”

“Do you watch hockey?”

“No.”

Frances looked shocked.  “Do you know who the Toronto Maple Leafs are?”

“Of course I know who the Toronto Maple Leafs are,” Aberdeen huffed.  “I just don’t…I mean, I don’t…”

“If I put a picture of Mats Sundin in front of you right now could you pick him apart from Wendel Clark or Doug Gilmour?”

There was an awkward pause.  “Are those Mr. Shanahan’s right-hand men?”

“Oh my God,” Frances muttered under her breath.  “Have you ever been to a game?”

“Yes.”

“Are you lying?”

“No – no, I’m not lying,” Aberdeen said quickly.  “One of my friends – her dad gets tickets through clients or whatever.  I’ll go to maybe one a year with her family.  But it’s not – I’m not like…the experience is fun.”

Before Frances could respond with something that was ruder than the last thing she said, her phone let out a really loud notification.  She balanced the clipboard on one hand as she took out her phone.  But as she looked at the message on the screen, her face dropped.  “Oh my God, oh my God, no!”

Aberdeen’s face dropped too.  “What’s wrong?”

Frances dropped her clipboard onto the desk and ran around it, grabbing the phone receiver and dialling a number.  Almost automatically, she began talking.  “He’s on his way.  Tell everyone the story needs to be retracted now,” she barked before hanging up.  A man walked through another door and suddenly, it was complete mayhem.  People were running through everywhere.  

“He wasn’t supposed to arrive until 9:30.  What happened?” the man asked Frances.

“Those idiots at the Sun had the audacity to actually post the story about his daughter online.  God, these people!” Frances huffed.  

Aberdeen stood awkwardly as everyone seemed to go into mayhem mode.  Frances was running around like a chicken with her head cut off, that one guy had mysteriously disappeared, and men in suits were in and out of everywhere with panicked looks on their faces.  She watched as Frances whipped into the office and began putting stuff out on the desk – a glass of San Pellegrino water, a venti Starbucks, and the sports sections of all the local newspapers.  When she was done, Frances grabbed the clipboard from her desk, a pen, and ran back down the corridor they just came from, leaving Aberdeen there, standing alone.  Awkwardly.  

Eventually, she could hear Frances’s voice again – much more polite this time – and footsteps of very expensive shoes clacking down the hallway.  “Yes Mr. Shanahan, of course.”

“And tell David at The Sun that I’m this close to revoking media access to the locker room if he publishes another article to do with my children ever again,” a voice Aberdeen could only assume was Brendan Shanahan’s was echoing down the hallway.

“I’ll get right on it.”

“Then tell Ben up in the legal department to draw up the paperwork necessary for that to scare them,” she heard, and finally, they rounded the corner.  Frances and Mr. Brendan Shanahan, President of the Toronto Maple Leafs.  He was angry.  Aberdeen could tell, even if she didn’t hear any of his last sentences – his body language showed it all.  She stepped back a few steps so he could get into his office unimpeded, where he would very obviously yell at the top of his lungs once he shut the door.  

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Frances stood in front of Aberdeen, shielding her from Brendan’s view as he looked back at Aberdeen from inside his office.  “Nobody – well – human resources sent her about the personal assistant job and I was going to interview her…but, but she’s hopeless,” she chuckled out, “and totally wrong for the job—”

“Well clearly I’m going to have to do that myself, since the last two you sent me were completely inadequate,” he deadpanned.  Frances’s back stiffened at the words.  “So send her in,” he finished as he sat down at his desk.  

Frances walked out of Mr. Shanahan’s office.  “Mr. Shanahan would like to see you,” she said politely, loud enough for him to hear.  It was when she leaned in closer that she began to whisper so he couldn’t.  “Brendan Shanahan is the absolute nicest person you will ever meet,” she began, “but he is also the busiest, most intense, most dedicated hockey professional in the entire National Hockey League.  Do you understand?”

Aberdeen gulped.  “Yes.”

“And I hope you know that this is a very difficult job for which you re totally wrong, and if you mess up my head is on the chopping block.”

‘That might not be so bad’, Aberdeen thought.  She would have appreciated some words of encouragement, like what Kasha had given her this morning, rather than the shpeal she was getting now.  But Aberdeen digressed, and nodded her head.  She took out a copy of her resume from her purse before walking in.

When she did, she couldn’t help but notice all the fine detailing of his office.  A lot of oak, bookcases, a lot of framed pictures of his family, and a giant Toronto Maple Leaf logo plastered – literally plastered – onto the wall.  He even had a giant oak desk – so regal – in the middle of the room.  

“Who are you?” Brendan asked in a tone much softer, but still angry.

Aberdeen took a deep breath.  This was her time to shine.  “Hi Mr. Shanahan.  My name is Aberdeen Bloom,” she said, stepping forward awkwardly to place her resume on his desk.  “I recently graduated from the University of Toronto—”

“And what are you doing here?” he asked.

Aberdeen blanked.  What was she doing here?  “Um, well, I think I could do a good job as your assistant, and um…” she started, noticing that Brendan was putting on his glasses.  Her gave her a look as those words left her mouth.  He grabbed the newspapers off his desk and placed them in front of him, over her resume.  

‘Alright Aberdeen.  Cut the bullshit’ she told herself.  “Yeah, so, I graduated U of T and want to become a writer.  I sent my resume out everywhere, and my work to try to get published, and finally I got a call from the MLSE human resources department, and…well, basically it’s this or bank-telling.”

Brendan didn’t look up from his newspaper.  “So you’re not a fan of the Toronto Maple Leafs.”

Aberdeen’s body stiffened.  “Uh…no?”

“And before today you had never heard of me.”

“…No.”

There was an awkward pause.  Brendan didn’t seem like he had any more questions in him – if he even cared.  It was so clear that he didn’t and that she was bombing this interview.  But Aberdeen felt more words coming.  “I was recently published in Acta Victoriana, the oldest continuous university magazine in Canada – twice, actually – and was also published in the Hart House Review—”

“I think we’re done here,” Brendan said, not looking up from the newspaper.  That was it.  Cut throat.  Didn’t care.

Aberdeen swallowed her pride.  So this interview was a dumpster fire from the get-go.  But it was him that came in angry and him that came into this without an open mind.  She couldn’t help but scoff at how he dismissed her; he didn’t even have the courtesy to look up.  She turned to walk out.

‘Don’t let it end like this’ her mind told her.  ‘You have so much within you that he doesn’t want to see’.

So she turned around.  “You know what?  You’re right.  I know nothing about hockey,” she began, her voice as strong and powerful as she could make it.  “The woman who brought me in asked if I knew the difference between Matt…Gilmour and something…something Sundin, and I didn’t.  I don’t fit in here,” she continued, noticing that he finally looked up.  “I’m a girl who grew up in an old bungalow in Etobicoke with immigrant parents.  I’m an English major with a double minor in classics and film.  But I’m smart.  I’m really f…really smart, and I learn fast, and I will work hard if you give me the chance to do so here—”

“Good news – they’ve agreed to take down the story,” somebody burst into the room interrupting her speech.  Brendan looked at her until the person laid their iPad down in front of him.  “The tweet linking the article is gone and it’s completely gone off their website.  Adrienne Batra wants to call you to personally apologize.”

“There’s no way I’m speaking to that woman,” Brendan mumbled.  “Tell her I want it in writing.  And one to my daughter as well.”

“Thank you for your…time,” Aberdeen said, as if he gave her any.  She walked out of his office and out of his life forever.  

Aberdeen decided to take the stairs, slowly walking down the flights of stairs, hearing her shoes clack against the bare concrete.  There, she could at least wallow in her self-pity after that train wreck of an interview.  She could deliberate about her next choices and steps.  Keep bank-telling?  Go back and get her Master’s?  Take a new course?  Tell her parents how she was failing?  Move back home?  Never do anything with her life?  Live in her parents’ basement for the rest of her life?  Maybe she should just stay in this stairwell.  Maybe she should start living here, since there was nothing else for her out there in the big wide world.  Maybe she’d become a hermit.

As she finally reached the ground floor, she thanked the receptionist again, who ignored her again.  Typical.  As she was about to walk out of 50 Bay Street, she heard her name being called.  “Aberdeen!”

She turned around.  Frances was waving her back, rolling her eyes at the same time.  Aberdeen furrowed her brows.  Did she forget something?  What was going on?  She scurried over to Frances.  “What’s wrong?”

“Brendan wants to speak to you.”

Aberdeen gulped.  She was going to get yelled at by the President of the Toronto Maple Leafs.  He was going to completely obliterate her entire life and not-yet-burgeoning career for that little stunt she pulled inside his office with that speech, and she’d never be able to find a job anywhere in Toronto again.  She may as well just move into her parents’ basement now.  

As they both rode the elevator back up, Aberdeen’s heart kept beating faster and faster.  “Do you know what he wants to speak about?” Aberdeen asked.

“I have no clue,” Frances said absent-mindedly, typing something into her phone.

When they arrived back upstairs, Frances led her straight back into Brendan’s office.  He was working on his laptop now, instead of reading his newspaper over Aberdeen’s resume.  “Brendan, I have Aberdeen back for you,” Frances announced.

“Excellent,” he said, his voice much more upbeat than what is was five or ten minutes ago.  “Franny, I’d like you to take Aberdeen to get her picture taken for her new MLSE identification badge,” he said.

Frances’s eyes bulged out of her head.  So did Aberdeen’s.  “W-What?” Frances stuttered out.

“And after that, I’d like you to take the town car and take Aberdeen to the Eaton’s Centre to get her an iPad Pro with a keyboard so we can start the process of downloading all the necessary apps and internal mail server she’ll need to do the job.”

Aberdeen’s stomach dropped.  “I…I got the job?” she asked, completely flabbergasted.  Was he nuts?  Completely, certifiably insane?

“You start next Monday.  Is that fine with you?”

Aberdeen found herself nodding.

***

“I’m so glad Steven could get that done for you today,” Brendan said as he rounded the corner of his desk so he could sit in his fancy big chair.  Aberdeen nodded, looking at the screen of her new iPad Pro.  Steven, one of the guys from tech support, had helped her download everything she needed to have on it.  

“Yeah.  It was all really fast.”

“After you finish up here today you may need to go back to the Eaton’s Centre,” Brendan informed her.  “You’re going to need to purchase a work wardrobe.  Keep every receipt because MLSE will reimburse you.  I prefer black, but really…get whatever you think is appropriate for an office.”

“Okay.”

“No heels necessary.  When we travel, I obviously don’t mind something more laid back – especially trips to the west coast.  Do you have a valid and working passport?”

“Yes sir.”

“Make sure you have it when traveling.  Our charter plane will still need to see it.  We’ll make copies.”

“Yes sir.”

“You’ll need to be available every game day.  We usually have Sundays off, but it’s a very untraditional schedule.  You’re okay with that?”

“Yes sir.”

“And I have your contract for you,” he said, grabbing some paperwork on the desk.  “We’ll have someone from the legal department come and explain it shortly,” he handed it to her, “but you’ll see the salary at the bottom of the first page.”  Aberdeen looked down.  Her eyes bulged at the number.  “If everything is to your liking, then we can sign.”

“Okay,” she nodded her head.  She gulped.  

Brendan looked at Aberdeen and could tell she was nervous – it was obvious in her short “Yes sir” responses anyway, but she looked like she wanted to curl into her shell.  “Before Ben from legal gets here, I would like to apologize about this morning,” he said.  “A local newspaper ran an article about one of my daughters, and my children…well, my children are completely off-limits.  Everybody knows that.  But sometimes some journalists like to see how far they can take things, even though they know family is off limits.”

Aberdeen understood where he was coming from.  If anyone ever said anything bad about Siena or Camden, she’d have their head on a spike.  She couldn’t even imagine what it was like for a father, or any parent for that matter, to have an article published about their child without their permission.  “I understand, Mr. Shanahan.”

“We are like a family here, you know – MLSE, but the Leafs especially.  You will feel part of that family soon enough.”

Aberdeen nodded nervously.  “I’m sure I will, Mr. Shanahan.”

“Well…” he shrugged his shoulders, leaning back in his chair and smiling at her.  “Congratulations, Miss Bloom.  You are now an employee of MLSE.”

***

“With the Leafs?!” Kasha was shocked when Aberdeen told her.  She’d started pouring glasses of wine when Aberdeen told her she got a job, but once she revealed the specifics, Kasha was shocked.  “Gosh Aberdeen, remember when my dad would bring me, you, and Siena to games with the company season tickets?”

“I know.”

“And now you’re working for them?!”

“For the President.  I’m his personal assistant.”

“Oh my God!” Kasha exclaimed.  “Seriously though, I bet a million jocks would kill for that job,” she commented as she finished pouring the wine.  

“Yeah.  Great,” Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders.  “Thing is, I’m not one of them.”

“Well, you gotta start somewhere, right?” Kasha offered.  She picked up both wine glasses, handing one to Aberdeen.  Kasha held her glass up.  “To jobs that pay the rent.”

Aberdeen giggled.  “To jobs that pay the rent.”