#killer is not actually a goalie

[mekachu04]

I hope it's okay I got really excited about you liking OP (especially the goat, our Captain) AND hockey so I had to follow back.

I'm so excited to go through your Kid pirates prompts. 😊

I'm always happy to make new friends, especially of the Kidd and Hockey kind =^.^=

I hope you enjoy what you find

[exyrpf]

can you pls explain what aftg is? 😭 everything i've heard makes it seem like a fever dream wattpad fic (affectionate)

i mean. yeah fever dream wattpad fic (affectionate) is a good way to describe it.

you got these books. you got a made up sport that doesn't really make sense. the first 3 books are from the pov of an 18 year old runaway orphan boy who lies as easy as he breathes. also his father is a literal serial killer (he is who this 18 year old orphan boy is running from)

runaway orphan boy signs with a college team that is pretty much a home for fucked up college kids. the foxes. they're bad but they just got this new kid who was the best exy (aforementioned made up sport) player in the world before he broke his hand. how did he break his hand? well, glad you asked.

you got this cult (sports team) that is run by the literal yakuza. new kid, who i will call prodigal son bc his mom invented the sport and he is referred to as the son of exy, was part of this cult run by the literal yakuza. they broke his hand so he couldn't play. UNTIL HE DID! :o

BUT WAIT! prodigal son and orphan boy have MET! they met when runaway orphan boy's dad cut a man to pieces in front of them (they were tweens at this time). apparently runaway's serial killer father WORKED for the yakuza the whole time!!!!!

(you'll read prodigal son and runaway's interactions the whole sreies and go 'huh this is very homoerotic do they fall in love?')

then u got this psychotic 5 foot nothing goalie (who has a twin also on the team)(they've both killed someone)(btw)(also he's blond)(and gay) who literally could stop the yakuza if need be and WAIT! does runaway orphan boy only know how to have homoerotic interactions with other men? the answer is probably yes.* blond goalie and runaway actually gay tho and make out a lot

also runaway gets tortured (twice) but he's fine or whatever. more murder. violence violence. some great side characters.

i'd say 'did that make sense' but i *know* it didn't bc even with my knowledge of the books it doesn't make sense.

so just like. an underdog sports story but the yakuza is there is how i'd jokingly describe it but it is in fact,,,,so much more than that.

if u are not enticed by my description and are not able to suspend all belief and accept there will be loose ends bc runaway is a TERRIBLY unreliable narrator with trauma up the wazoo, you will never understand. but if u ARE enticed, welcome to brain rot central. here are the trigger warnings.

there's also a fourth book that just came out but that's from a completely different pov that i am holding so deeply to my heart right now, cannot make fun of it

(*runaway, blond goalie, and prodigal son were originally a throuple and the author took it out but did nothing to erase how gay they all are)

[gaffney]

Wait SAY MORE about junior year Ducks. Who is on Varsity vs. JV in your mind?

OK SO i got this ask but i also got another asking which issues i could see the ducks having in junior/senior year so i’m just gonna combine them!!

for me, the people making varsity would be adam, julie, guy, ken, fulton & charlie because (imo) they've always had the most potential

i like to think imagine adam would struggle with the fact that this may be a repeat of freshman year, however i do think because he has more ducks with him it’d be an easier transition this time around. i’d also love a storyline where has to deal with old varsity members who he knew in freshman year (who were in their sophomore year/now their senior year) who still feel like he betrayed them and don’t want to trust him. maybe a player who’s on the same level as banks and gives him an actual challenge for ~star player. would also love the return of the hawks (larson and/or mcgill) in his personal life because i’ve always felt like that was an unfinished storyline

one thing i’ve always appreciated about the ducks is that it’s a mixed team of boys and girls, with everyone on equal footing. connie, julie, and tammy have always been just as good as the rest (or even better). and it worked really well at the peewee level! but if we’re being realistic… as they get older, i feel like physical differences might start to have a bigger impact. especially in contact sports like hockey. in d3, we already saw connie getting knocked around pretty easily because she’s fucking tiny in comparison to some of the dudes. hell, they even alluded to it in d2, when dwayne had to rescue her by lassoing the opponent. so yeah, i think it would make sense to have separate teams to ensure everyone’s safety and fairness… and eden hall definitely has the resources for it. it’d be awesome to see a storyline for connie where she came to terms with this (and this mostly being the reason she didn’t make varsity) and then decide to team up with linda to petition for a women’s team at eden hall. this would most likely cause friction with julie, however, who is playing on a mixed team’s varsity and doesn’t want to give that up–but, as a goalie, is also in a slightly different situation because she isn’t getting the brunt of all the physical plays. this would actually be a really cool fic to read… if written with respect ofc. i don’t wanna see any misogynistic or transphobic bs

for guy, i think he’s a great technical player. he’s above the average, but he’s also just kinda… there. he doesn’t have adam’s single-minded focus & talent, or charlie’s tenacity & leadership insight, or jesse’s killer instinct, or even something that sets him apart like fulton’s slapshot or kenny’s fluidity on the ice. something that always catches my attention is guy basically going “we all played like shit” and connie retaliates with “no YOU did that, i played hard” which was 100% a line they threw in to make us aware of the fact they’re (still) fighting. but i like the headcanon that guy joined the ducks (district 5 at the time) because he wanted to have fun with his friends, and it turns out he’s actually pretty good, but he doesn’t actually have that a lot interest in the sport itself. he could struggle with the fact that he doesn’t have the passion that other people may expect from someone with his skill

with kenny, i think he’s a great player and deserves a varsity spot no doubt, but i would honestly just love more insight as to why he quit figure skating to play hockey in the first place 💀 like is it a cultural impact vs financial stability kind of thing? tibbles says “i convinced him hockey had more of a future” which might be true. does kenny ever end up regretting choosing hockey? we will never know… because even the creator of tmd did not care to give him a narrative and i think that’s bs. i would also love a kenny & tammy intro, where tammy was the opposite and decided to choose figure skating over hockey

fulton would continue the storyline they scrapped in d3: who is he without his fellow bash brother? i love bash bros but i’d love to see him realize that he is his own person and that whatever future he sees for himself–whether that’s in hockey or something else entirely–he doesn’t NEED portman there to be a great player and defenseman. in turn portman would feel Some Type Of Way that fulton got picked for varsity and he didn’t, but this also makes him determinated to improve on his own too. give them some friction but in the end they realize that they don’t need each other on the ice to grow but want to be in each other’s lives anyway

and then there’s charlie… let’s take away that c!! i’d imagine varsity already has a captain and charlie has to settle for not leading the charge for once (tho he’ll get it back in senior year imo). i just want him to build a better relationship with hockey and have fun without the pressure of trying to fill a certain role or weird attachment issues. but i also think i’d like most of his drama to just not be hockey/team related (other than trying to placate everyone now that there’s a clear divide) but let him deal with his daddy issues

i think russ would essentially be fine still playing for jv bc by this time he’s realized he doesn’t wanna go pro and has found something else to occupy his time. dwayne is just sad the team doesn’t get together a lot. the rest… idk. luis is too busy with mindy/being a perv and averman & goldberg are too busy being annoying and/or sabotaging the team i guess 💀

[sergeifyodorov]

fundamentally i THINK the Jets Situation is just a "hell is other people" type clusterfuck of about a million different players being wrong-place-wrong-timed -> laine was a wildly talented kid who wanted to do dumb kid shit like play video games and sleep all day -> wheeler and schiefele were both more adult guys who were a lot more serious about their work -> big buff was more chill generally but also had a short string re disputes he was willing to put up with -> ekane actually was a dick tbh -> pld is. ??? actually i don't even know what his motivations are -> and it all coagulated into "pretty much none of these people individually are actually vibe killers but put them all together and you get That" so with the combination of Enough Turnover + the sexiest goalies on the planet (you can't deny helle's weird ass dracula swag is hot) + your "who the hell is that?" 3C becoming captain everyone learned to just chill the fuck out for a bit . and now they're good again

[taeswolfie]

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

☽︎𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒆 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒅☾︎

Ch.13 - Ch.15

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.1k

"You really don't remember anything?" Y/n asked Lydia as she and Allison walked with her to the school doors.

"They called it a fugue state, which is basically a way of saying 'we have no idea why you can't remember running through the woods naked for two days'. But personally, I don't care. I lost nine pounds." Lydia paused in front of the doors and did a little pose making all three chuckle.

"Are you ready for this?" Allison asked.

"Please. It's not like my aunt's a serial killer." Lydia turned on her heel and walked through the doors. Allison gave her back a blank look. Y/n smiled at her, giving her arm a pat before following Lydia, Allison followed a moment later. Lydia paused and the girls stood next to her to find everyone in the hall had stopped in their tracks to stare at them. Usually Allison would be stared at for being the new girl, Lydia for being pretty and popular, and Y/n for being kind of intimidating and a bit of an outsider. The way they were staring this time was different.

"Maybe it's the nine pounds." Allison spoke quietly to Lydia.

"What the hell are you all looking at?" Y/n yelled to the crowd and her forceful tone spurred everyone into moving on. She gave a smile to her friends. Lydia gave her a tiny nod before flicking some of her hair back and striding down the hall in her usual confident bravado. Y/n and Allison shared a smile and followed the strawberry blonde.

...

Later Y/n sat with Scott and Stiles at the field as they got ready for practice. Scott tells her what happened in the locker room. "It was kind of like a scent, but I couldn't tell who it was."

"Makes sense. A room full of sweaty boys and only one other werewolf? Even with heightened smell, it would be hard to pinpoint the owner of one scent in that cacophony of stimuli."

"What if you can get him one-on-one? Would that help?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah." Scott nodded.

"Okay. I think I got an idea." Stiles ran off down the field leaving Scott and Y/n.

"Is that how you could tell I was turning?" Scott asked her suddenly. "Because you could smell it?"

"Kind of. But mostly I knew the signs and I could kind of... Sense it, I guess. But the scent does help. Almost every creature has a scent."

"Like how you smell like flowers?"

She nodded. "That is a witch's natural scent."

Stiles ran back to them then carrying the goalie stick. "I told Coach you're switching with Danny for the day." He gave Scott the stick.

"But I hate playing goal."

"Remember when I said I had an idea? This is the idea."

"Ohh." Scott nodded.

"There we go."

"It's a great idea, babe." Stiles looked at Y/n with eyebrows raised in pleased surprise and she gave him a wink.

"What's the idea?" Scott asked and the two gave him strange looks.

"I seriously don't understand how you survive without me and Y/n sometimes." Stiles grabs Scott and hauls him up just as Coach blows the whistle.

"Let's go! Line it up! Faster!" The players line up in their positions, Scott going to guard the goal. Coach blows the whistle and tosses a ball to the first boy. When the player goes forward Scott runs out of goal and tackles the player to the ground. He helps the guy up and then 'subtly' sniffs him. "McCall!"

"Yeah."

"Usually the goalie stays... Somewhere within the vicinity of the actual goal."

"Yes, Coach." Scott goes back into position. Coach blows the whistle. This time it's Matt's turn. He goes forward and Scott comes out of goal again, flipping Matt on to his back. Scott sniffs him with even less subtlety.

"What the hell man?"

"My bad, dude."

"McCall!" Coach calls again as Scott goes back. "The position's Goal Keeper. Not Goal Abandoner."

"Sorry, Coach." Another whistle, another ball. Scott and the other player go at each other again, the player defending goal just stood by this time. Scott sniffs the player. Y/n sighs and closes her eyes at the scene.

"Stilinski," Coach grabs the face guard on Stiles' helmet, pulling him a bit closer to himself, "what the hell is wrong with your friend?"

"Uh, he's failing two classes, he's a little socially awkward, and if you look close enough, his jaw line's kind of uneven."

Coach lets the mask go. "That's interesting." Another whistle and another ball, this one for Danny. "Let's fire it up." Scott ends up body slamming Danny onto his back.

When Scott sniffed him, he noticed. "It's Armani."

"Huh?"

"My aftershave. Armani."

"Oh. It's nice." Scott smiles at him.

"McCall!" Coach calls again. "You come out of that goal one more time and you'll be doing suicide runs till you die. It'll be the first ever suicide run that actually ends in a suicide." Y/n can't help but laugh at Coach's threat as Scott gets into position again. "Got it?"

"Yes, Coach."

Next in line is Jackson, but when he notices what Scott's doing he decides to opt out. "Uh, Coach, my shoulder's hurting. I'm gonna... I'm gonna sit this one out."

Y/n narrows her eyes at Jackson's behavior, until the next boy in line catches her attention. Isaac Lahey. He's in a few of her classes and he seems like the nice quiet type, but the heavy rise and fall of his shoulders is what really draws her eyes and shows how agitated he seems. Coach blows the whistle and tosses the ball. Isaac catches it and dashes forward, Scott quick to match his pace. The two meet and end up throwing each other to where they land on hands and knees. They both look up at each other with glowing yellow eyes, but they dim when Coach yet again blows the whistle.

Everyone's attention is drawn to three people walking onto field. Sheriff Stilinski and two deputies. "Don't tell them." Isaac asks of Scott. "Please don't tell them."

Scott, Stiles and Y/n stand by and watch Noah talk to Isaac. "His father's dead." Scott informs.

"They think it was murder." Y/n adds.

Noah gently takes Isaac by the shoulder and leads him away. "Are they saying he's a suspect?" Stiles asks.

"I'm not sure, why?" Scott looks at him.

"Because they can lock him in a holding cell for 24 hours."

"Like, overnight?"

"During the full moon." Y/n frowns.

"How good are these holding cells at holding people?"

"People, good. Werewolves, probably not that good." Stiles answers.

"Stiles, remember when I said I don't have the urge to maim and kill?"

"Yeah."

"He does." Y/n said before Scott could. She could already feel it.

…

In Mr. Harris' class Y/n sits at the table in front of the boys. Scott and Stiles talk while she listens in. "Why would Derek choose Isaac?" Scott asked.

"Peter told me that if the Bite doesn't turn you it could kill you. And maybe teenagers have a better chance of surviving."

"Does being a teenager mean your dad can't hold him?"

"Well, not unless they have solid evidence. Or a witness. Wait." Stiles twisted around to look at Danny's table, noticing Jackson's absence. "Danny." He whispers to the teen who looks up at him. "Where's Jackson?"

"In the Principal's office talking to your dad."

"What? Why?"

"Maybe because he lives across the street from Isaac." Danny turns away while Stiles looks at Scott.

"Witness." Scott says.

"We gotta get to the Principal's office."

"How?"

Y/n smirks. "I got this, boys." She whispers to them.

"Everyone please turn to page 73." Mr. Harris says as he faces the chalkboard. Two seconds later a wadded up piece of paper hits him on the back of the head and he flinches. A few students laugh and he whips around to find the culprit. "Who in the hell did that?" His eyes go to the trio who immediately point fingers at each other.

They're obviously sent exactly where they wanted to go and they sit outside the office, Scott between the other two, as he and Y/n listen to Noah talk to Jackson. "Wait, so are you telling me that you knew Isaac's father was hitting him?"

"Hitting him? He was kicking the crap out of him."

"Did you ever say anything to anyone? A teacher, parents, anyone?"

"Nope. It's not my problem." Y/n throws a disgusted look towards the window. Just another tick mark in the 'Jackson's an asshole' column.

"No, no, of course not. You know, it's funny that the kids getting beaten up are always the ones who least deserve it."

"Yeah... Wait, what?"

Y/n quietly snickered and looked at Stiles past Scott. "I love your dad." She smiled.

"I think we're done here." Noah said and a moment later he walked out with his deputy. Stiles quickly scrambled to grab a magazine to cover his face and hide from Noah, but the adult had already seen him. Still he decided to go along with it in a slightly disappointed fashion. "Hi, Scott and Y/n."

"Heh." Scott gave the man a little wave.

"Hiya, Sheriff." Y/n smiled at him. Noah took one more look at Stiles and sighed a bit while walking off.

"Kids." A voice called all of a sudden and the three looked to find the new Principal, Gerard Argent. He smiles at them and Y/n's muscles tense a bit. "Come on in." The three teens sit in chairs in front of Gerard as he sits at his desk. Y/n didn't like being in the middle, directly facing the Hunter, but she really had no choice. She sits a bit slouched in the chair with her arms folded over her chest, a look of mild disinterest on her face. A façade she often wears when she wants to bar someone out and keep her secrets hidden. "Y/n L/n." Gerard starts while holding a folder with her information. "Very good grades and not in trouble often except for one teacher in particular. I see you have quite a few artistic extracurriculars. Are you an artist?" He looks up at her.

She shrugs a shoulder. "Kind of."

"Well, from what I see here I would say you're very good." He smiles before looking through another folder. "Scott McCall. Academically not the most accomplished, but I see you have become quite the star athlete." He looks at the last folder. "Mr. Stilinski. Oh, perfect grades, but little to no extracurriculars. Maybe you should try lacrosse."

"Oh, actually I'm already-" Stiles is cut off by the man.

"Hold on." He looks at Scott. "McCall. You're the Scott that was dating my granddaughter."

"We were dating but not anymore. Not dating, not seeing any of each other or doing anything with each other... At all." Y/n closes her eyes for a moment and lets out a quiet sigh at his over-explaining. She would normally laugh at him, but she's focused on keeping her guard up for the Hunter to do much more than that.

"Relax, Scott, you look like you're about to crack a cyanide pill with your teeth."

"Just a hard breakup."

"Oh, that's too bad. You seem like a pretty nice kid to me. Now listen, guys. Yes, I am the Principal, but I really don't want you to think of me as the enemy."

"Heh, is that so?" Stiles laughs a bit. Y/n clenches her teeth. She doesn't think he's the enemy, she knows he's the enemy. A man like him can be nothing but.

"However, this being my first day, I do need to support my teachers. So unfortunately someone is going to have to take the fall and stay behind for detention." He looks pointedly at Stiles, Scott and Y/n also turning to look at him. When Stiles looks up to see everyone looking at him he sighs.

Scott and Y/n run down the halls and towards one of the school doors, bursting through them and catching sight of Isaac as he's driven away in the back of a cruiser. They turn to go back inside once he's out of sight when tires squealing catches their attention. They look to find Derek in his sleek black car. "Get in." He says.

"Are you serious?" Scott asks.

Y/n gestures towards where Isaac was a moment ago. "You did that. All of that? That's your fault."

"I know that." Derek admits. "Now get in the car and help me."

"No, I've got a better idea." Scott says. "I'm gonna call a lawyer. Because a lawyer might actually have a chance at getting him out before the moon goes up."

"Not when they do a real search of the house."

"What do you mean?"

"Whatever Jackson said to the cops, what's inside is worse. A lot worse." He opens the passenger door.

"Go." Y/n nodded towards Derek. "I'll wait for Stiles." Scott sighed and got into the car. Y/n watched them drive off before going back into the school to wait for Stiles' detention to be over. She had sat outside of the classroom like she had before, reading a book while she waited. A sudden whispering caught her attention. She lifted her head from her book and looked down the hall both ways, but there was no one around. The school was empty save her, Stiles and a few teachers. She furrowed her brow when the whispering persisted. She put the book in her bag and stood up, leaving her stuff there as she took a few steps into the middle of the hall.

She turned this way and that yet there was nothing. Until suddenly there was. A glimpse of brown hair and a leather jacket at the end of the darkened hallway. She frowned more at this and followed after the mysterious person. Who would be wandering the halls at this time? When she got to the end she caught the person just as they turned another corner. She kept following until she got to the gymnasium, but when she went in it was empty. She looked around in confusion. Where did he go?

She huffed in annoyance. What was she even doing? She turned to leave when something caught her eye. A basketball sitting in the middle of the court. She walked over to it and picked it up. She twirled it in her fingers, the black lines blurring with the orange as it spun in her hands. She narrowed her eyes as she stared at the ball. The shapes it made seemed to form a face. She slowly brought it closer to her own face to try and make it out. Suddenly a hand snatched the ball from her hands. She gasped and jumped back at the boy now standing in front of her, smiling at her. Brown hair and blue eyes that seemed familiar to her.

"Y/n?" She jumped at Stiles' voice behind her and turned to find him at the doors of the gymnasium, her bag in his hands. "Are you okay?" He asked her with concern in his voice.

She glanced behind her, the boy and even the ball where nowhere to be seen, before giving him a small smile. "Yeah. I- I'm fine. I was just bored and decided to wander around. Did Harris let you out early?" She tried to switch subjects.

"Early?" He laughed a bit. "It's dark out."

"What?" Her eyes darted to the window to find that it was indeed dark out. How long had she been standing there?

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm sure. We need to go." Whatever just happened will have to be put on the back burner for the moment, helping Isaac is the priority right now. She quickly rushed out of the gymnasium, grabbing her bag from Stiles, and pulling him along with her out to the car.

He pulled his phone from his bag and dialed Allison. "Hey, sorry, Harris literally just let me out of detention. Literally. And he had my phone the whole frickin' time."

"Well, we need to do something right now. They were asking me all these questions about Lydia and how she was bitten by Peter, and then they sent this guy out."

"Wait, what guy?"

"He was dressed as a Sheriff's deputy."

"They're sending him to the station for Isaac."

"He was also carrying this box with something on it, like, um, like a carving or something."

"What was it?"

"Hold on, hold on. It's in one of these books." There's a pause and the sound of rustling pages. "I'm taking a picture." A moment later Stiles gets the photo and looks at it, showing it to Y/n after a second. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah." Y/n takes the phone from Stiles. "Wolfsbane."

"What does that mean?"

"It means they're gonna kill him." Y/n hangs up and she and Stiles get into the car, driving to the station as fast as they could.

The 'deputy' the Argents sent drove down the road in a black SUV until there was a 'pop' sound. He frowned at the noise and wondered what it was, jumping slightly when the sound came again. He pulled over and got out, his eyes immediately going to the tire. An arrow stuck out of the front and back tire letting air escape from them. He went to examine it more when a third arrow embedded itself into his thigh, it's owner being none other than Allison Argent herself. She smirked and went back around the corner to call her friends.

"Hey, did you slow him down?" Y/n asked as she held the phone on speaker.

"You could say that."

Y/n smiled. "That's why we're friends." Allison chuckled a bit.

"We're headed to the station right now." Stiles said.

"Where's Scott?"

"Isaac's."

"Does he have a plan?"

"Yeah, but not a very good one."

"And unfortunately we don't have any time to come up with a better one." Y/n hung up then. Both teens took nervous glances at the full moon that was steadily rising in the sky.

They pull up to the station with Derek, having picked him up on the way. "Okay, now the keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father's office." Stiles informed. "The problem is getting past the front desk."

"I'll distract her." Derek said as he went to get out only for Stiles to stop him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa- you? You're not going in there." Derek looked pointedly at the teen's hand. "I'm taking my hand off."

"I was exonerated."

"You're still a person of interest."

"An innocent person."

"An- you? Yeah, right!" Stiles laughed. "Okay, fine. What's your plan?"

"To distract her."

"Uh-huh. How? By punching her in the face?"

Derek huffed a short, dry laugh. "By talking to her."

"Okay, all right. Give me a sample. What are you gonna open with?" Derek looks around for a moment before looking at Stiles again. "Dead silence. That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?"

He seemed to think for a second. "I'm thinking about punching you in the face."

"Oh, my God." Y/n groaned from the backseat. "Move. Move!" She ordered and made Derek move so she could get out.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna work my magic." She smirked and strided off into the station. Derek looked at Stiles who was watching Y/n walk with a slightly dazed expression. He sighed and smacked Stiles' over the head who whined in protest before they followed the witch.

Y/n walked up to the desk, the officer behind the desk looking at the folder in her hands. "Good evening, how can I help..." She trails off when she looks into Y/n's eyes which are glowing. "You?" Her eyes seemed to grow distant as Y/n's magic works on her.

"Hi." Y/n smiled.

"Hi."

"It's so late, isn't it? You must be tired from working so much." The officer nodded a bit. "Sit down, relax, take a deep breath." The woman obeyed what Y/n told her to do, sitting down, relaxing, and taking a deep breath. "When you wake up in a little while you won't remember my face or my voice, you won't remember what I said or that you fell asleep. You will be well rested and continue your night as normal. Now... Sleep." Y/n's eyes flashed, the color reflecting in the woman's before her head laid back on the chair, coaxed into a gentle nap. Derek and Stiles had watched this exchange from behind the door. Stiles was in a bit of awe while Derek had a look of mild respect. She turned to them with a smile and gestured for them to come out. "She should be out until we're done."

"You. Are. Amazing!" Stiles beamed and kissed her cheek before running off to his dad's office. He went over to the little lockbox on the wall and punched in the code, but when he gets it open it's empty. He hears keys jingling in the hall and realizes he was a little too slow. "Oh, no."

The fake deputy limps through the Sheriff's station, blood trailing behind him as his leg continues to bleed, keys in his hand. He pulls out a box from his pocket and takes out the syringe of wolfsbane, holding it in his mouth for a second to tuck the box away again. Stiles rounds the corner looking behind him and nearly runs into the Hunter. "Whoa. Uh, just looking, um.." Stiles looks down and notices the piece of Allison's arrow still sticking out of the man and he realizes this is the Hunter. "Oh, sh-" He goes to run but the Hunter catches him by the back of his shirt, pulling him back and holding a hand over his mouth as he pulls him along.

As Stiles struggles with the man he spots a fire alarm and he pulls the switch as he's tugged past it. The Hunter pulls Stiles into the room with the holding cells and lets him go. Stiles scrambles into a sitting position and they both look over to the cells, only to find the door loosely on its hinges and the cell empty. Isaac rushes at the man from the side wolfed out. He grabs the man, banging him onto a desk and then throwing him against the opposite wall. Stiles rushes to sit against the other side of the room, away from the angry werewolf. The Hunter goes to stab Isaac with the needle. Isaac catches his wrist and growls, teeth bared. He squeezes and twists the man's arm until he drops the needle and then pushes his head into the wall. He lets him crumple to the ground, knocked out.

"Stiles!" Y/n rushes to the boy as Derek crushes the needle under his shoe. Isaac looks at him and then down, his eyes quickly darting to the teens. Derek glances between them and his Beta, knowing what he's wanting to do and taking action before he can. His eyes glow their Alpha red and his canines come out as he roars at Isaac. The Beta's eyes widen and he falls back, cowering into the wall in fear. After a moment Isaac peeks his head up from behind his arms, now shifted back to normal as he looks up at his Alpha.

"How did you do that?" Stiles asks.

Derek looks at him. "I'm the Alpha."

"Are you okay?" Y/n asks Stiles as she puts her hands on either side of his face, her eyes showing her worry.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

She sighs. "Good." And then she kisses him, reassurance for herself that he is okay. When she pulls away he's slightly dazed and she looks up at Derek. "Get Isaac out of here before the Sheriff comes." He gives her a small nod and does as she says, taking Isaac and high-tailing it out of there. She helps Stiles to his feet and they look around. Pretty soon the Sheriff walks down the halls to the holding cells, turning off the fire alarm as he passes. Once he gets to the door he looks between the unconscious man on the floor, his son, and his son's girlfriend, raising his brows in expectation of an explanation. Y/n stays quiet as Stiles looks around and then points at the Hunter.

"Uh, he did it."

Ch.15

[sophsicle]

okay so im reading up on price and i have a question:

why is everyone so mean to the guy??? Like i dont know shit abt hockey but all that hate seems a little…unwarranted…?

wait wait wait

which price

MY price???

Are people in the year of our lord 2023 being mean to carey price?

whatever you are reading stop reading it

carey price is one of the greatest goalies to ever play hockey and i will stand by that

he's won gold in the world juniors, in the olympics, and the world cup, he's been given the Hart Trophy (for most valuable player in the league), Vezina Trophy (best goaltender in the league) and Ted Lindsay Award (for "most astounding player in the league" as voted by the other members of the players association), and i believe was actually the first goalie to win all three, and he's also broken a bunch of other hockey records

he grew up in rural BC where there weren't even any rinks so his dad cleared up part of a creek so he could have ice to practice on

he's also indigenous, and considering ice hockey was almost certainly inspired by indigenous sports there really are not very many indigenous players, and he's sort of spoken about that before, and i know been important for the community that he comes from,

also he's a funny goofy guy and so incredible to watch play i swear to god, like there is no goalie who plays like he plays, like numbers aside he was just such a joy and i adore him look he got injured and he never was quite able to come back fully from that, and last season or the season before he was struggling with substance abuse issues (almost certainly because they were pumping him full of pain killers so he could play through his injuries) and he went to get treatment for it, and this year at the draft he forgot some kids last name BUT like, there is no reason to be mean to him in my books and if people are then maybe they are leafs fans who are salty that he like literally destroyed them in 2021

[silver-state-knights]

I’d love to hear more about Carey Price and the CCM goalie gear!

hey there! thanks a bunch for the ask! i know its been sitting a while but now i just remembered to get around to this!

Carey Price (and many other Habs goaltenders over the years, tbh) has been very influential on the world of goaltender equipment in general, but especially CCM's catalogue as he was one of their longtime "faces" of their goalie equipment and arguably one of their most notable (besides Marc-Andre Fleury for awhile there, too). he originally started with Vaughn in the early days of his career, as we can see here:

Vaughn at this time was much bigger in goalie in the NHL than they are these days, the only real notable goalie they have now as far as I know is Jonathan Quick. But, if you're CCM and you're seeing a lights out, absolutely killer goaltender like Carey Price starting to emerge in the mid 2000s, you're likely going to want him to wear your stuff, with your logo, right? If this goalie is wearing your stuff, everyone who plays and wants to be like him will likely try to emulate him, right?

Hockey brands will often send pros equipment tuned to their specs in an attempt to get them to switch all the time for this exact reason- but I can't really think of any other instance of a brand going as far as CCM did in the case of Carey Price.

To understand what I'm specifically talking about, I have to first introduce the concept of break angle- this is a term in goalie equipment that refers to the way and at what angle a goalie glove/trapper closes. The three you'll often hear of are the 580 break (90° closure), the 590 break (60° closure), and the 600 break (50° closure). No two gloves are the same, so a 600 break from Vaughn will be different than a 600 break from Bauer, and so on and so forth.

Here's a chart that should give a better visual on what each of the three look like and how they differ:

At this time, Carey Price's glove with Vaughn was most similar to what we would call CCM's 600 break today. They actually created the 600 break in order to help Price transition out of the Vaughn glove he was using at that time. As you can see with what appears to be one of his first CCM sets, the Extreme Flex III that he had circa 2012-2013, the glove is very similar looking to the one he had with Vaughn:

Now, some bonus info because I think it's funny: Carey Price no longer uses a 600 break, and has since switched to the 590 as of a couple years ago (something that caused a bit of controversy at that time). He also is no longer with CCM, as CCM Goalie cut ties with the Lefevre family a couple years ago now. The Lefevre family, who are well renowned for their excellence and innovation in goaltender equipment. Where they go, most NHL goalies will follow. Lefevre is now working with True Temper, and that explains the severe uptick in NHL goaltenders using their pads, gloves, and blockers.

Here's some of his True setups because I think they're neat:

So yeah! Basically, TLDR: CCM invented the 600 break angle, a break angle that is still popular at the retail level to this day, specifically for Carey Price to switch to their equipment from Vaughn.

[jedusaur]

good things this week:

a story from one of my books made the Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy longlist! "Folded Into Tendril and Leaf" by Bogi Takács, from Xenocultivars, was chosen as a "notable work" i.e. John Joseph Adams selected it as one of the top 40 fantasy stories published last year (40 might sound like a lot if you aren't tapped into the world of short SFF, but trust me it is not)

this week's Ted Lasso ep made me believe there's a genuine chance they might actually resolve the love triangle with a triad in the finale next week. I have never particularly needed canon to validate my ships but also I have never particularly thought there was a significant chance they would, especially for a poly ship, and right now I want it to happen so goddamn bad come on guys come on come ooooon

I was extremely on my cooking bullshit this week, the highlights being almond croissants and some KILLER potatoes au gratin—I used the rest of the dill havarti from last week's cheese board and it was SO good. also did soy chicken fritters with spinach and lemon-garlic aioli that was really good too

I just found out that in soccer the equivalent of pulling the goalie for a sixth skater is just... the goalie running forward and joining the play?? here is a DELIGHTFUL compilation video of goalies scoring (the one at 3:40 is especially excellent). imagine this in hockey, you guys. imagine Mike Smith waltzing into the attacking zone with the puck. we could have had it aaaaalllllll

I'm working on an OT3-themed cocktail trio (I REALLY WANT IT OKAY) and having fun with it, been a few years since I last got really into creating a themed cocktail menu

a couple days ago I woke up super early and couldn't get back to sleep so I decided to drive to the beach and catch the sunrise over Lake Washington, it was lovely :)

I mapped out sun and shade coverage in my yard hourly over the course of a full day, which should help me plan my planting better in the future

buzzed the back and sides of my hair, I always feel better when I'm not all shaggy

did a very stressful thing (which could turn out to be good, don't know yet) and Steph was incredibly patient and supportive and helpful while I was a mess <3

one of my siblings made me a playlist based on a conversation we had about music preferences like four months ago, which was a surprise and very thoughtful

more plants! the tomatoes are starting to blossom, and my pumpkin emerged and is very squat and sturdy and I love her

[laresearchette]

Saturday, April 01, 2023 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: LOVE IN THE MALDIVES (W Network) 8:00pm WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT? EVERY BREATH SHE TAKES (TBD - Lifetime Canada)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

CBC GEM ESCAPE TO THE COUNTRY (Season 28b)

CRAVE TV JURASSIC WORLD: DOMINION MASTER LIAR (Episodes 1-3) RISKY BUSINESS

NETFLIX CANADA 10,000 B.C. CATWOMAN CLICK CRASH DR. SEUSS’ THE LORAX GIRLS TRIP HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 JURASSIC PARK LAURENCE ANYWAYS LEGO NINJAGO: SEASON 4 CRYSTALLIZED – PART 2 LOUIS CYR, L’HOMME LE PLUS FORT DU MONDE THE MANY SAINTS OF NEWARK MIRACLES FROM HEAVEN MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – FALLOUT MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – GHOST PROTOCOL MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – ROGUE NATION NEW YORK MINUTE SHARK TALE SOMETHING’S GOTTA GIVE SUPERBAD WILD WILD WEST YOU GOT SERVED ZATHURA: A SPACE ADVENTURE WEATHER

MLB BASEBALL (SN) 2:00pm: Jays vs. Cardinals (TSN2) 4:00pm: Orioles vs. Red Sox (SN Now) 8:30pm: Rockies vs. Padres

BKT TIRES & OK TIRE WORLD MEN’S CURLING CHAMPIONSHIP (TSN) 2:00pm: Canada vs. Switzerland (TSN) 7:00pm: Canada vs. Italy

NHL HOCKEY (TSN4) 4:00pm: Jets vs. Kings (SN1) 3:00pm: Bruins vs. Flyers (CBC/SN/APTN) 7:00pm: Leafs vs. Sens (City/SNEast) 7:00pm: Hurricanes vs. Habs (CBC/SN) 10:00pm: Ducks vs. Oilers

NCAA MEN’S BASKETBALL (TSN3) 6:00pm: Final Four (TSN/TSN4) 10:00pm: March Madness: Final Four

CANADIAN FILM FEST (Super Channel Fuse) 7:00pm: POLARIZED: An encounter between two young women exposes deep prejudices.But as the pair enjoy a growing friendship, they will have to break barriers that keep them apart, or risk settling for the lives their families have laid out for them.

9:00pm: WINTERTIDE: An isolated northern city battles a plague of depression that transforms its victims into zombie-like automatons; a woman discovers that the key to immunity lies within her dreams.

NLL LACROSSE (TSN5) 7:00pm: Bandits vs. Rock

W5 (CTV) 7:00pm (SEASON FINALE): The Cash Cows; Sounds Farm:  International students are the new cash cow for Canadian universities, but students say they're getting ripped off; an Ontario farmhouse creates the sounds you hear in hundreds of blockbuster Hollywood movies.

MONSTER FAMILY (Crave) 7:20pm: Dracula's spell turns a woman and her loved ones into a vampire, a mummy, a werewolf and Frankenstein's monster.

W666 (CTV ) 7:30pm (SERIES PREMIERE): A new spin-off for the long-running Canadian newsmagazine, but entirely from the Satanist perspective. Tonight, meet the creators the Toronto Transit Commission who toil in the bowls of Hell and a profile of Anne Murray.

MLS SOCCER (TSN4) 7:30pm: Toronto FC vs. Charlottte

THE PLOT TO KILL MY MOTHER (Lifetime Canada) 8:00pm:  A woman who unknowingly grew up under federal witness protection starts to question everything after her mother's murder. She decides to leave the program and find her mom's killer before he strikes again.

THE GOALIES (Slicely) 8:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Heather is looking for love, but in the Bachelor-esque dating series, she must determine who among 20 masked-men is an actual professional hockey goalie and who is just a guy named Gord from Moose Jaw.

KEY TO LOVE (Super Channel House & Home) 8:00pm: When bookstore owner Samantha Hill starts an antagonistic relationship with a book cover model Josh, they unknowingly find an antique key in a false book that starts to unlock their true romance.

IS THIS POUTINE? (Foodie Network North) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Skilled chefs from around Canada fashion poutine to look like non-poutine items to try to fool contestants. It sounded better in the pitch meeting.

THE SPARKS BROTHERS (Movietime) 9:00pm:  Edgar Wright explores how one rock band can be successful, underrated, influential and criminally overlooked. A musical odyssey exploring five weird and wonderful decades with brothers Ron and Russell Mael, celebrating the inspiring legacy of Sparks.

JURASSIC WORLD DOMINION (Crave) 9:00pm: Four years after the destruction of Isla Nublar, dinosaurs now live and hunt alongside humans all over the world. This fragile balance will reshape the future and determine, once and for all, whether human beings are to remain the apex predators.

THE PRICE WE PAY (Starz Canada) 9:00pm:  After a pawn shop robbery goes wrong, two criminals take refuge at a remote farmhouse to let the heat die down and find something much more menacing.

MOTHERFUNKER (Super Channel Squish) 10:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): In the continuing tradition of television series with names that sound like curse words, like “Schitt’s Creek” and “Son of a Critch” here comes “Motherfunker,” the story of a 1970's Edmonton funk band consisting of five brothers and their tour manager mom: the Motherfunker.

[anthonybialy]

Buffalo Sabres Need Help Replacing Assistants

The Buffalo Sabres returned to reality, which in their case is very bad.  Retaining what they already have ruined a throwback.  Moving to the future with a prominent name from the past is tough while accompanied by names from an unfortunate present.  The team is curiously proud of detailing how coaching duties will be split for coaches who should split.  Nostalgia sustained us for about a week.  

Lindy Ruff will be saddled with Matt Ellis.  The only thing worse than keeping anyone connected to the drought is keeping a crop-killer.  His record is established.  Like noting anything associated with the Sabres during Terry Pegula’s exhausting tenure, that’s not praise.

Ellis shows that working hard may not pay off.  The greatest superstars have easier circumstances whether or not they realize it.  Peyton Manning can claim that most of his challenge as a player was mental, which is easy when you’re Archie’s son.  By contrast, there are many coaches who applied getting the most out of limited abilities to overseeing players such as, say, Sean McDermott and Lindy Ruff.

But satisfying the condition of failing to be an all-star is insufficient on its own.  A hardworking marginal pro is not necessarily going to be an amazing coach.  Toiling in fourth-line obscurity cannot be the only qualification.  We call that the Matt Ellis rule.

Ellis maintains his important role of telling Rob Ray during the first admission that the roster must keep working to overcome the thing not working.  His work as a public relations flack has been invaluable to those who don’t pay attention.  As for actual coaching, you’re just going to have to let the trainee have more practice time.

Successful businesses know it’s important to maintain all the wonderful aspects everyone has enjoyed.  Ellis is renowned for the unbeatable extra-man tactic of players staying in place.  Hold still and defenders might not see you.  Save molecule movement for possible later use.  Inertness is a perfect metaphor for a team that needs and won’t get a complete staff overhaul.

Fans are lucky if the team should maintain their recent strategies, which they should not.  The power play has been a crime against hockey that has represented ineptitude through an unprecedented woeful stretch.  Baffling inertia hasn’t just figuratively summarized misery: the infuriating lack of productivity despite the advantage of having one more player than the foe has helped keep a low-scoring entity banished.

Now-former Rochester coach Seth Appert is the one franchise employee who had a chance at success.  Naturally, he didn’t taken it, and naturally, he gets ahead.  The Sabres shrewdly losing regularly has allowed them to stockpile youthful talent, although the average age is rising rapidly.  The cunning plan would presumably allow a farm team to rack up titles.  But let me introduce you to this organization.  Defensive lapses are a great way to test a young goalie.

The Sabres became predictable during exile.  For example, they presumably just promoted their next coach.  Appert’s real new task is waiting for Lindy to take a front office position.  Fans who’ve noticed how things have gone during the HDTV era are not as thrilled by apparent continuity.

Promoting internally is great as long as the business doesn’t suck.  Is there a way for a pro team to track that?  Changing culture should be paramount to a group that is enduring an ignominious postseason absence.  I can think of one franchise that should look everywhere else for employees.  The Sabres prove the Peter principle past the first level of incompetence.

Firing everyone would be insufficient yet the closest this club gets to creating fulfillment.  It won’t happen, of course.  Every overreacting social media fan is correct if they follow the Sabres.  Make one fuming tweeter general manager if it’d lead to Ellis helping Kevyn Adams run a hockey school.

People never change.  Always remember rule number one.  Meanwhile, the Sabres don’t know the rules of hockey.  Franchises owned by sadly consistent humans don’t, either.  It sure looks like the Pegulas are pleased with how all the stuff’s going.  No edition of Buffalo’s alleged NHL member has moved to the knockout stage in what seems like awhile, but I don’t want to be negative by checking how many years in a row it’s been.

A moment of clarity is traditionally associated undertaking fundamental alterations.  The Sabres realized everything they’re doing is super.  Employed hockey experts are way smarter than rash critics who want to change everything just because the performance has been worse than anything in league history.

As a coach, Ellis is respectable as a player.  I really liked how he toiled to his utmost before he got his current post overseeing guys who don’t do the same.  It’d be mean to expect him to look for a different job just because he can’t do his current one.  How would he ever find another?  You should be against his family starving just because he’s unskilled.

It’s almost a relief to not feel optimistic.  How do followers of good teams maintain that all offseason?  The Sabres prefer not resurfacing the ice to enable settling into ruts.  Retaining Ellis is like curing shortness of breath by smoking more.  They don’t have the excuse of cigarettes.  Like having zero clue of how to win games, some habits are hard to break.

[fruitcoops]

Testimony

Okay nobody should allow me to listen to Two Birds by Regina Spektor when I have Actual Important Things to Do. Also, the first three-fic day in several months! Holy moly! Pop the champagne! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for fighting/ threats, mild injury, the Snakes' past treatment of Reg (vague)

“And we are off to a killer start!” Frank announced. “After one hell of a first period, which resulted in two goals against the Snakes from our own Gryffindor Lions, the score is currently 2-0 and I for one am quite excited for this second period.”

“I have to agree, Frank,” Lee said. “We all knew this game was going to be charged, but I can’t say I remember the last time we saw the Lions sink their teeth in with this kind of ruthlessness. The closest might the game against Vegas after Fenrir Greyback’s rib-breaking hit on the captain last year.”

Frank hummed his agreement. “For those who don’t know, the decision over Regulus Black’s contract with the Snakes has finally reached the defendant’s side. Allegations have officially been made against the Snakes organization concerning what can only be called abuse against their players in order to end Black’s contract early. Unfortunately, there have also been several arising rumors about player-on-player conflicts on the team.”

“We can’t confirm or deny any of the breaking stories yet, but I think it’s safe to say neither of us are surprised at the Lions’ temper tonight,” Lee continued. “It’s a tricky situation. Accusations of this kind have never been made against an organization before, and certainly not so publicly. And here we go for the second period, everyone! The referee approaches with the puck while Pascal Dumais and Lucius Malfoy prepare for the drop—Dumais wins it! A quick pass to winger James Potter, and this looks like it’s going to start fast and stay fast—”

“—Pots passes to Lupin, who carries it up the ice and redirects a hit from Snape before snapping it back. Potter goes up, takes a brutal check from Malfoy—”

And the ice exploded into a melee. “My God,” Lee managed, baffled. “For anyone watching at home, that check on James Potter has resulted in what can only be called a knock-down, drag-out fight between these rival teams. I have to admit I was waiting for that pressure to blow, Frank, but I didn’t think it would be like this. Even the goalies have dropped their gloves.”

“I can’t even make out everyone’s numbers from here,” Frank confirmed. “Oh, on the outside—alright, it looks like Sirius Black, who many of you will recall is Regulus Black’s older brother, has dragged Lucius Malfoy from the mess and has him by the front of his jersey. I’m not sure if we can zoom in for viewers at home, but it looks to me like Malfoy’s skates are just barely on the ice.”

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

“Did you do it?” Sirius asked lowly as his blood pounded in his ears and his fists crumpled Malfoy’s number. The whole rink sounded like it was underwater; he could hear the fans roaring and the noise of a messy fight behind him, but he kept his gaze firmly on the weaselly face in front of him. Malfoy remained silent. Sirius shook him hard, hoisting him half an inch higher until they were eye-level. “Did you do it?”

“I d—I don’t—”

Regulus had been so pale as he gave his testimony, holding his chin high and his hands still as he recounted story after story after story of the hell his supposed teammates put him through to ‘prove his loyalty’. Sirius would make sure Lucius Malfoy and his habit of teaching Reg he was unlovable proved their goddamn loyalty to whatever god he believed in, because it was high time Sirius taught him what happened when you fucked with one of his brothers.

Lucius grabbed at his forearms, but Sirius kept a steady hold on him. “Riddle made me—”

“You breathe on him again,” Sirius interrupted, hardly above a harsh whisper as he kept unblinking eye contact. “You touch him. You contact him. You even look at my little brother again, and I will knock your teeth so far down your throat you’ll never find them all. And tell your goalie that if a single one of those stories about him turns out to be true, I won’t be so nice to him.”

Sirius dropped him without warning; Lucius’ skates hit the ice with a dull thud and skidded out from under him for a moment before he scuttled back to his side like the roach he was. Whistles blew in harmony and he turned just in time to see the refs finally pulling the teams apart. His Lions were roughed up, but the Snakes looked worse. Good.

They were the reason he had to drive Regulus to give his statement and watch him shake in his seat the whole way there. They were the reason his little brother dry-heaved the whole morning before that. They were the reason a grimace flickered over Regulus’ face whenever he put his old gear on, and why his hands were scarred from the dozens of blisters he had acquired during their barbaric drills.

Sirius was not an angry man. He made an exception for the one person he couldn’t protect.

His pulse had just started to calm when Riddle glanced over at him across the ice and a sneer curled his lip—Sirius’ blood kicked up in an instant and he lunged for him. You were the one he feared the most, he wanted to snarl. He was supposed to trust you to lead, and you failed him just like everyone else.

Referees caught them both around the chest just before they met in the middle, but Sirius leaned close enough that their visors touched at the forehead. “You’re goddamn lucky you’re in that net,” he hissed. Riddle’s eerie eyes showed no fear, but they showed no triumph, either. Good.

Everyone on the ice was sent to the boxes—the second lines skated out, looking much less volatile but still glaring daggers at one another. Remus sat next to him with an ice pack against the black eye forming over one side of his face and murder on his lips. “Which one got you?” Sirius asked, refocusing on the game.

“Dolohov.”

“And?”

“He’s down a tooth, I think.”

Sirius could feel himself shaking inside his pads. “I want to make them pay.”

A rare fury flashed in Dumo’s eyes as he took the space on Sirius’ other side, bumping his shoulder. “Then we win this game, mon fils. We don’t give them an inch to stand on. And then we go home and we stay with Regulus until this is over.”

Sirius took a deep breath through his nose, watching their timer count down. Picking another fight wouldn’t do them any favors—grinding the Snakes into the dust would certainly make him feel good, and crushing Reg in a hug when they got home would be even better. He had a lot of time to make up for.

[youcouldmakealife]

Scratch/Money, Scouts; Ambassador Willy (Pt 2)

For the prompt:  The Scouts find out Joey and Scratch are together?

Swapped the tumblr and Patreon weeks for the SOTW, which is almost 2k, fuck me, because the Scouts are chaos demons.

Training camp mercifully ends. The Scouts tear up the preseason, see what they have with the old guard, the call-ups, the newbies. Joey’s got some killer chemistry with the thus far unnicknamed Wilcox — he imagines whatever nickname he does eventually get is gonna suck for him, with that very dick-heavy name to riff off of — and Scratch looks good out there, doing his crash bang thing, and the future looks bright for them.

Except for the telling the Scouts thing, now that the last cuts have been made. They were maybe supposed to do it when the training camp cuts were done, and Joey maybe freaked out because he thought he’d have more time and there was perhaps locking himself in the bathroom until Scratch lured him out with his soft ‘Money’s panicking’ voice and nobody told anyone.

Joey has now learned firsthand that these dudes are exactly as oblivious as Willy and Scratch said they were, because Joey and Scratch haven’t really hidden their relationship, just done their thing, and absolutely no one has noticed they’re together. So they’ve gotta be told. Not for Joey, who could happily just wander under the radar, letting everyone put the b into (b)romance, but he knows it bugs Scratch, and not in the funny bugging Scratch way. Legitimately bothers him, the team thinking they’re just unusually close bros. So they’re telling.

Well. Willy’s telling. And Joey and Scratch take Trigger aside before the team meeting, checking if he’s willing to be muscle.

“I can stand behind Willy and stare,” Trigger says instantly. “You want me to stare? I can totally stare.”

“You do the best staring,” Scratch tells him. “Terrifying, my man.”

“Thanks, Scratchy,” Trigger says, and kind of — beams, which is actually more disturbing than the stare, Joey thinks.

Joey leans into Scratch a little. He still has best friend dibs. Boyfriend dibs doesn’t negate his best friend dibs, they just make them stronger.

Trigger stares at Joey.

Joey wraps an arm around Scratch’s waist and stares back. He won’t blink first. He refuses to.

Trigger’s eyes narrow.

Joey narrows his back.

“Guys,” Scratch sighs.

“Don’t interrupt,” Joey tells him.

“Fucking ridiculous,” Scratch mutters, and slips out of Joey’s hold to go talk to Willy, presumably about them being fucking ridiculous. Which is rich coming from the dude who had a slap fight with Joey this very morning over who got to drive.

Joey blinks first, because of course he does. He’s not a fucking goalie, you can’t beat a goalie at a staring contest, it’s part of their whole goalie thing.

“I win,” Trigger says. The monotone he says it with is frankly insulting. There should be more triumph.

Joey glances over to make sure Scratch isn’t looking, then sticks his tongue out.

*

Everyone, by silent agreement, is fifteen minutes early for practice. And by silent agreement Joey suspects it’s ‘Willy told them to and they’re scared to say no’. Once Willy’s established everyone’s there, he goes to lock the door, presumably to keep out any of the coaching staff if they show up early. “Trigger,” Willy says.

Trigger stands at his full height, crossing his arms across his chest guard. Joey is pretty sure nobody told him to wear his equipment, but he’s doing it anyway. Maybe it’s for the extra height from his skates, not that he needs it. Maybe it’s because the padding adds to his size — again, absolutely doesn’t need it. Maybe Joey should just shrug and chalk it up to Trigger being inexplicable, instead of something scary like ‘Can use skates as knives this way. Knife kicks.’

“Before any of you leave this room we’re going to establish something,” Willy says, taking a slow loop of the room, making steely eye contact with players by turns. “And I’m going to need verbal agreement from every single one of you, or there’s going to be a problem, got it?”

“You said he doesn’t get crazy intense until playoffs,” Wilcox mumbles to Tank.

“He doesn’t,” Tank mumbles back. “Maybe he’s getting like, less chill with age.”

“I am young and beautiful and I will make you suffer if you say one more thing about me aging,” Willy says loudly.

Tank and Wilcox shrink back.

Someone didn’t take his twenty-seventh birthday well, apparently. Joey makes a mental note to mention it as much as humanly possible.

“This isn’t about hockey,” Willy says. “Though I will have you know I am completely reasonable about hockey, even during the playoffs. You could all show a little more intensity.”

Everyone has found somewhere to look that is not into Willy’s eyes, Joey included. Unfortunately he finds Trigger’s instead, and apparently Trigger’s already doing the stare. Joey looks at Scratch. Scratch makes a face at him, and Joey makes one back.

“Really, guys?” Willy says. “I’m doing a speech for you and you’re making faces the whole time?”

“You haven’t made the speech yet,” Joey says. “You’re just lying to everyone about how fucking terrifying you are during playoffs.”

The Scouts murmur agreement, all still avoiding Willy’s eyes.

“What the hell is this even about?” Wilcox asks Tank, low but plaintive.

“That is an excellent question,” Willy says, meeting Wilcox’s eyes, and Wilcox shrinks back again, looking like he wants very much to go back to Chicago, where  presumably they were more normal, and where he was, apparently, the Willy. “Thank you, Dik-dik.”

Oh no, poor Plural Dick. He’s never escaping that one, especially since it’s couched in the plausible deniability of it being the name of an animal, not that they need it. Exhibit A: Shithead. Joey regrets mentioning the willies and cox to Willy, this is honestly his fault. “I’m sorry,” he mouths at Dik-dik, who just looks confused. He doesn’t know yet. He doesn’t know he’s going to be Dik-dik forever. Poor innocent Dik-dik.

“Okay shitheads and Shithead,” Willy says, clapping his hands together. “I called you here for reasons other than you slandering my age and beauty and totally normal level of investment in winning games, you absolute fuckheads.”

Eyes: everywhere but Willy.

“You guys were amazing when Money got outed,” Willy says. “True teammates. I have never been prouder to be on this team, except, you know — playoffs. No offense Money.”

Joey shrugs. It’d be weirder otherwise, honestly.

“So obviously you’re a great group who accepts and supports your teammates,” Willy says. “And I expect that to continue. Or Trigger will rip your head off.”

“And eat it,” Trigger says.

“Don’t make it weird, Trigger,” Willy says.

“And eat it,” Trigger mouths behind Willy’s back. Joey doesn’t know why he has to be making eye contact with Joey while he’s doing it. Joey’s obviously not going to be uncool about his own relationship.

“Are you coming out?” Tank asks.

“No,” Willy says. “Well I mean, who cares, may as well, I hook up with men sometimes, but — stop murmuring.”

The murmurs continue. Joey suspects Willy has lost control of the room. He hears a confused ‘but he picks up women like, constantly’, so at least Joey isn’t the only one who reacted like that, though it’s still embarrassing.

“Money and I are together!” Scratch yells. He’s standing in his little corner, fists clenched, and Joey kind of wants to go and hug him but he’s too busy scanning every single face for a single sign of disapproval or disgust or anything right now so he can report it to Trigger and Trigger can rip their fucking heads off for looking at Scratch that way.

There’s a murmur lull.

“Thank you, Scratch,” Willy says, looking unusually flustered. “Nick and Joey are in a romantic relationship, and I know you’re all going to be supportive of that relationship, or so help me Trigger will eat your heads. Any questions?”

The question is obviously rhetorical, but Shithead puts his hand up, because of course he does.

Willy sighs. “Yes, Brandon?”

“Is Scratch or Money the one who—“

“Anyone but Brandon!” Willy says over him. “Anybody. Anybody at all. Put your fucking hand down, Shithead.”

“I just wanna know,” Shithead mumbles.

A tiny rookie who hasn’t said a single word above a mumble since he got to Kansas City puts his hand up.

“Roscoe?” Willy says.

“How do you all prefer to identify?” Roscoe asks. “Like, gay or bi or — if you don’t want to say, that’s totally fine, I just don’t want to assume.”

“Roscoe, you beautiful soul,” Willy says, and Roscoe goes very pink. “You tiny little angel.”

“I’m 5’10”,” Roscoe mumbles. Which is a lie. From a tiny little angel.

“You adorable little liar,” Willy coos, then barks, “Put your goddamn hand down, Shithead.”

Shithead slowly lowers his hand.

*

“I think that went well,” Joey says after practice. Him and Scratch got a lot of supportive shoulder claps and ‘happy for you guys’ and, more irritatingly, ‘finally, dudes’, and Roscoe — now officially Rosie after he blushed through Willy’s compliments, poor guy — gave them this solemn little nod like his tiny nineteen year old ass was some wise old soul.

Shithead keeps staring like he wants to put his hand up again, which is annoying, but whatever, and Trigger hasn’t stopped doing the stare, which made end of practice shootouts fucking unnerving, but whatever, and there were some periodic murmurs that started up during breaks between drills, to the total bafflement of Coach until Willy presumably mumbled a catch up in his ear, but all in all it went pretty well, Joey thinks. Comparatively.

Willy stares at him.

It is fucking terrifying. They never needed Trigger at all.

“What?” Joey says.

“Do you want to be YCP Ambassador?” Willy asks.

“Fuck no,” Joey says.

Willy sighs.

“Does—” Willy says.

“Scratch says fuck no,” Joey says, because Scratch can’t defend himself from where he’s trying to talk Trigger into wearing a normal non-stare again.

“Do you think Rosie will want it?” Willy asks, sounding hopeful.

“Maybe,” Joey lies, just to make him feel better. “I get it though. It’s time to pass the torch. At your advanced age — help, Scratch!”

“If you mentioned Willy being old it’s your own fault!” Scratch calls back.

“I don’t know why I do anything for you guys,” Willy says, from where he’s twisting Joey’s arm up behind his back. He wasn’t taken unawares, obviously, he knew there’d be repercussions, but he always forgets how fucking strong Willy is. Also dirty. He got him in the ankle and took him down before he could blink.

“Love,” Scratch calls.

“Definitely love,” Joey says. “Fuck, Willy, ow, twenty-seven isn’t even old.”

“It is in hockey years,” Willy hisses. “And I don’t have a Cup yet.”

It isn’t even old in hockey years. There is literally a forty-one year old on their team. Willy’s closer in age to tiny angel Rosie than he is to Bogeyman.

“Put the man’s arm down, Willy,” Scratch says. “Trigger’s in ripping heads off mode and I don’t know how to turn it off.”

“I wouldn’t rip a head off for him,” Trigger says.

“Hey,” Joey says. “Uncool man. You’re supposed to at least pretend you’d rip heads off for me. That was the deal.”

Trigger shrugs, stares.

Joey stares back.

“Are they having another fucking—” Willy says from behind Joey.

“Yes,” Scratch sighs.

Willy lets go of Joey’s arm with a sound of disgust.

[rexcoatlarchive]

Chaldea cup pt. 2

Sion: well this is it Folks, the final match-up for this Chaldea cup! But before we actually get on to the game let's recap the previous match-ups.

Sion: the first match-up was between team America and Team Roma, tho team Italia would've been more appropriate to call it since some servants from the team weren't around during the Roman empire but you know those Roman servants insisting all is Rome and all.

Gordy: quite, the match ended with team america absolutely destroying team roma, it would seem that their Goalie Nero stood no chance against Quetzalcoatl's killer techniques.

Sion: and as we recap other matches you'll start to see that a pattern of sorts starts to appear. The next match-up was team Britain vs. Team Greece.

Gordy: of course team Britain took the win, the mighty king of knights is formidable force out on the field of sport just as she is on the field of battle.

Sion: now now director don't give Artoria all the credit, I'd argue Mash's iron defence as goalie was what really gave them the win. But also can't forget Penth constantly trying to fight her teammate Achilles.

Gordy: yeah, next time we'll try to handle the teams formed better. Next up was team America versus team France.

Sion: and just like against team Roma, team America blasted past their defences. It was crazily one sided honestly.

Gordy: of course next came team Britain vs. team India, and obviously team Britain won.

Sion: director stop being so biased, I understand that's your home but still. Besides this one was much closer then against team Greece, Karna's powerful kicks were proofing overwhelming even for dear Mash. But she came in at the last second, giving Lancelot the chance to score the winning shot.

Gordy: yes yes, then came team America vs. team Japan. Relatively close one, really have to admire the tenacity Taira showed but even still Quetzalcoatl was far too powerful.

Sion: she's a really powerful player on the field, no wonder people usually think of Mexico when they think of soccer.

Gordy: oh don't be ridiculous, people obviously think of great Britain, we invented the sport!

Sion: that bias is showing again. Anyways next came team Britain vs team Celt and unfortunately for the Celts the Brits came out on top.

Gordy: yes, Scathach seemed especially annoyed at that loss. I guess the Irish and Scottish still hate us brits after all this time.

Sion: understandably so. And soon we'll see a similar battle between America and Britain. And it'll be an interesting match-up. Who will come out on top? Quetzalcoatl's terrifying fire power or Mash's awe-inspiring iron defense? Find out soon when the final match-up begins!

A/N: did quick recap for the matches. I don't know sports very well so that's why I didn't do more detailed descriptions. I'll be doing better research before the finale tho.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Eccentricity [Chapter 5: I’ve Lived The Life And Paid For Every Crime]

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: Some Kind Of Disaster by All Time Low.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to drugs and violence.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Tagging: @queen-turtle-boiii​​​​ @bramblesforbreakfast​​​​​ @writerxinthedark​ @maggieroseevans​​​​​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​​​​​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​​​​​ @escabell​​​​​ @im-an-adult-ish​​​​​ @someforeigntragedy​​​​​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​​​​​​​​​ @deacyblues​​​​​ ​ @tensecondvacation​​​​​​ @brianssixpence​​​​​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @some-major-ishues​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @loveandbeloved29​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 💜

Easy Questions, Evasive Answers

“So it was nothing,” Archer said, glancing up from where he was tinkering around beneath the hood of my 1999 Honda Accord, checking hoses and belts and dipsticks. “This is pathetic, by the way. That you can’t change your own windshield wiper fluid. Dishonor on you. Dishonor on your cow.”

“I never had my own car in Phoenix!” I objected around a mouthful of a Starbucks pumpkin muffin, my first of the season. And that was true: Renee and I couldn’t afford one. “I didn’t have to learn about car things!”

“No, it’s great, I love it, I have a customer for life.”

“It was totally nothing,” I told him. Meaning the photograph in the newspaper article from 1979. Meaning my paranoia surrounding beautiful, brooding, certifiably lethal Benjamin Lee.

Not Lee, I reminded myself. Benjamin August Hardy, born November 3rd 1893.

“Was it really?” Archer asked, skeptical.

“Uhhh, you were the one who was making fun of me for thinking he might be a time traveler. Or a bigfoot.” Or a vampire.

“Yeah, okay, true...” He let the hood of the Honda fall shut with a bang, then wiped the muddy streaks of motor oil from his hands with a stained rag. “But you were freaked out. Like super freaked out.”

“I was, yeah. But it wasn’t him in the photo. I took another look, there were freckles and, uh, like, uh, some other things that didn’t match up.”

“Huh.” Archer watched me with an expression I couldn’t read. “I didn’t notice that.”

“Ben laughed about it. Probably thinks I’m an idiot. A stalker and an idiot.”

Archer smirked slyly. “He must not have held it against you too much. I’ve never seen that guy laugh in my life.”

I took a moody bite of my muffin, rolled my eyes, feigned shallow schoolgirl angst. “Trust me, he’s not my biggest fan.”

“Ohhhh, and this bothers you?” Archer sauntered over and stole a crumbling hunk out of the pumpkin muffin. “Does someone have a little crush on the gorgeous, grouchiest Lee?”

“Definitely not.” I sipped my chai latte, contemplative, debating telling him more.

“Uh oh. There’s something else, I can see it. Spill the tea, you walking college-chick-who’s-obsessed-with-fall stereotype.”

“I’m so excited! I’m going to get to see changing leaves this year!” Cacti are majestic, ancient, intrepid, and they remind me of home; but they never change. They’re like desert earth that way, like the ocean. Like vampires, actually.

“We’ll have to do all the Instagram-worthy stuff. Pumpkin patches. Hay mazes. Apple picking...you can even bring that Ben guy if you want to. If he promises not to murder me with his mysterious time-travelling demon powers.”

Oh, kid, you have no idea. “So...I am kind of into a Lee guy. But it’s not Ben.”

Archer gasped, inhaled pumpkin muffin morsels, bent over as he hacked them out of his lungs. “Who?!” he rasped, scandalized, and then coughed again.

I couldn’t help but smile as his name spilled out: “Joe.”

“Which one is that? The Middle Eastern Men’s Vogue model one?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, not Rami. He has a girlfriend, by the way.” And has for the past half a century.

Archer wiggled his eyebrows. “Just because there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score.”

“Oh my god, please never say that phrase again.”

“Joe is the...” He closed his eyes as he drummed his fingers against the metal workbench, trying to remember.

“The Italian one,” I finished for him.

“Ahhh. The annoying one.”

“He is not annoying! Why do people keep saying he’s annoying?! He’s hilarious, and sweet, and lowkey wicked smart, and, and, and...”

Archer whistled, grinning, his dark eyes sparkling. “Damn, girl. You do like him. You really like him.”

I sighed in defeat. “Okay. I really, really like him.”

“Like him as in would swipe right on Tinder, or like him as in you want to get married and honeymoon in Hawaii and have twelve pasty, angular babies?”

“Oh wow.” And for the first time, I was confronted with the singular enigma that was a future with Joe. Vampires had relationships with other vampires, obviously, even marriages; but that didn’t mean the same rules applied to humans. Did he like me? Could he like me? What would that even look like? How would it end? And it would have to end, of course, eventually. Unless somehow I stopped aging too. “More than just a right swipe. We’ll see about the twelve kids.”

“Just make sure he wraps it before he taps it. I’m too young to be an uncle.”

“Stop,” I pleaded, gulping down my latte, averting my gaze across Archer’s small garage filled with customers’ vehicles, pretending not to be intrigued and yearning and petrified. I couldn’t imagine hooking up with someone as faultless and—presumably—experienced as Joe and being anything but a disappointment. I’ve never hooked up with anyone. At all. Ever.

“What?” he asked, concerned, thieving another piece of my pumpkin muffin. Powdered sugar dusted his fingers like the snow I’ve only seen two or three times in my life.

“Nothing. I just really wish you went to Calawah too.”

“And give up all this easy money from clueless suburbs people like you?” Archer beamed, wily and proud and affectionate. “Not a fucking chance.”

No More Sad Spaghetti

Joe gawked in horror, chomping noisily on his Big League Chew bubblegum, as I unwrapped the peanut butter sandwich I’d packed for lunch. It was mostly cloudy in the early September sky overhead, but he was still wearing sunglasses. He had traded in his ubiquitous U Chicago apparel for a Cubs t-shirt. Squirrels scurried through the bigleaf maple trees that dotted the campus, snatching up acorns with tiny clawed paws, wriggling whiskered noses in our direction.

“What’s your problem?” I asked, taking a bite. “It’s not sad spaghetti.”

He blew a small pink bubble, then popped it with his teeth. “Yeah, but it’s...like...mangled.”

“It got trapped between my textbooks!” I protested. Admittedly, the accordion-shaped peanut butter sandwich—my vegetarian alternative to fishstick Thursday—kind of sucked.

“You can’t eat that. Oh my god. It’s making me so sad. Give it to the squirrels.” Joe pulled out his iPhone. “What’s your preferred pizza topping?”

“I can’t tell you,” I replied, tossing my sandwich towards the nearest tree. A hoard of squirrels immediately descended upon it and proceeded to battle for dominance, emitting shrill, peanut-butter-crazed shrieks.

His brow furrowed. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because you might not like me anymore.”

“Why would I not like you because of pizza...?” And then he knew. “Oh no, oh god, please don’t say pineapple.”

“I’m a pineapple pizza person.”

“Baby Swan,” Joe said, deadly serious, pressing his palms together. “That is straight up sacrilegious. You can’t put tropical fruit on a pizza. You realize I’m Italian, like an actual Italian. I’m so Italian I’ve killed other Italians for being the wrong kind of Italian. That’s how Italian I am.”

“I feel like maybe I shouldn’t socialize with literal mobsters. It’s unsavory.”

“Settle down, I’m ordering the half-pineapple pizza, you freaking barbarian.”

I watched Joe as he tapped his thumbs against the screen, humming to himself, amused, perpetually buoyant. And I couldn’t picture him as a monster, as a killer: pulling triggers, slitting throats, digging blades into soft vulnerable love handles, feeling for the mortal puncture of a lung or kidney. I asked him, my voice quiet, hesitant, almost lost in the autumn wind: “Did you actually hurt people?”

“Nah. I didn’t have the stomach for it, even back then. I was on the deal-making side of things. The business side. I was a people person, a smooth talker, astronomically charming.”

I smiled, mischievous. “That’s difficult to imagine.”

“Okay, so no cheesy breadsticks for you.”

“I’m sorry, mob guy. Please order the breadsticks. You’re so charming I can’t stand it. My jeans are unzipping all by themselves.”

He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “So you’ll sacrifice your dignity for breadsticks. Good to know.” He finished typing and laid his iPhone on the grass. “Alright, next question.”

“Does your hair grow?” Joe’s hair—I couldn’t help but notice—seemed longer than it was the day I met him a week and a half ago, disorderly and auburn-tinted, ruffling in the breeze.

“It does, yeah. Hair and nails still grow. So you have to shave, but you can’t get razor burn. And any nicks close right up.”

“Very cool. How often do you need to eat? You know...actually eat.”

“It varies, but generally twice a week.”

“And what kind of animal has the tastiest blood? Besides...well...” I gestured towards myself. “The upright two-legged kind with opposable thumbs and a partiality for pineapple pizza.”

He blew another bubble, then leaned in towards me. And I realized, for the first time, that he had his own inherent, exclusive, totally Bath-And-Body-Works-worthy scent as well; Dr. Gwilym Lee was sandalwood and campfires and log cabins, Mercy was roses and vanilla...and Joe was pine trees, peppermint, cold night air, like all of that eternally youthful magic of Christmas Eve sieved into a bottle. I popped the sheer pink bubble with the cap of my blue pen. Joe asked: “Do humans like chocolate or vanilla ice cream? Coffee or tea? Baseball or something hella lame?”

“Depends on the human.”

“Exactly. Same deal for vampires. I prefer bears, especially grizzlies. Lucy and Mercy like deer, elk, moose, animals like that. Ones with hooves. Weirdly, Rami’s favorite is crocodile, I think because it was the first thing he ever tried in Egypt. He doesn’t get it very often, but has been known to buy them on the black market on occasion. Scarlett likes mountain lions. Also domestic cats, but you didn’t hear that from me. Gwil is a wolf guy, but he won’t kill the endangered kinds. Such a gentleman.”

“How about Ben?”

“Ben’s still coming around to the whole eating animals thing. I don’t think he has a favorite yet.”

Joe isn’t a killer, and he never was; I could believe that. But Ben... “Why is he so different than the rest of you?”

“That’s...kind of a long story,” Joe replied carefully.

“It wouldn’t be such a long story if people stopped talking about how it’s a long story and actually told it to me.”

He flashed a grin, revealing white canine teeth filed into points; they were subtle, yes, but they were there. Fangs. I envisioned pressing a fingerprint against them and feeling the flesh split in two, the blood dripping down onto his tongue like Washington rain. And unlike Joe’s skin, mine wouldn’t knit back together on its own. “But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of tormenting you with the prospect of incredibly juicy yet confidential information!”

I rolled my eyes, sipped my can of Diet Coke, returned my attention to our lunch plans. “So garlic doesn’t repel you. That part of the lore is completely made up.”

“Yup. Thank god. Eternal life would be worthless without pizza.”

“Can you do drugs? Get drunk?”

“We can’t overdose, but we can get the effects of anything we consume. It’s not a good habit to get into though. If you’re nodding on heroin for like four days at a time, it’s pretty easy for some other vampire to find and murder you.”

“So a vampire can be killed by another vampire.”

“Absolutely. Next question.”

I consulted my mental list. “Do you sleep?”

“Yeah. Well, kind of. We nap for a few hours a day.”

“What happens if you don’t?”

“We get bitchy. Really bitchy. We essentially turn into Ben.”

I laughed, chewing absentmindedly on the end of my pen. “So that’s his problem. He hasn’t napped in a century. Now it all makes sense.”

“Something like that,” Joe said. “You gonna come over tonight?”

“I don’t know. I’m supposed to present The Walruses And Me tomorrow and I still haven’t started the book.”

“What do you know, I can tell you all about The Walruses And Me!”

“Seriously? You’ve read it?”

“No, but I can enthusiastically narrate the Wikipedia article to you while you pet Mercy’s alpacas.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Terrible for your grade in Marine Mammals. Good for your development as an interesting and happy human.”

“Nice try, but I’m already both of those things.”

Joe reached out suddenly, jarringly, and ran the back of his hand across my cheek. My favorite Lee, I thought, thoroughly transfixed but trying to hide it. Oh no. “Interesting, definitely. But I have this gnawing, distressing suspicion that you’re still working on the happy part.”

“I miss the desert,” I confessed. That wasn’t quite all of the problem, but it was accurate: I missed the heat, the sun, the parched prehistoric air I had always called home. Although I was beginning to find reasons to like Forks, Charlie and Archer and the promise of a Pacific Northwestern autumn; and then one big reason in particular. A very old, pale, chatty, Italian reason.

“A bit of a quandary for a future marine biologist,” he replied gently, perhaps apprehensively.

“I always figured I’d live somewhere like San Diego or Los Angeles or Galveston. Someplace on the ocean, but also sunny and hot and with palm trees. The best of both worlds. But you couldn’t go there with me, could you?”

Oh no.

Oh NO.

Oh fuck, this is definitely a crushing-on-Lee-boys zone.

Joe stared at me through his sunglasses, chomping on his Big League Chew, the corners of his mouth turned up and etching lines like parentheses into his face, pleased and nodding slowly and triumphant somehow. Then he struck out his hand again, this time with his pinky raised like a flagpole. “No more pathetic depressing lunches.”

“You got it. No more sad spaghetti. No more sad peanut butter sandwiches. You have my solemn, human vow.”

He smiled as his pinky entwined with mine. “No more sad anything.”

“So this vampire thing sounds like a pretty sweet gig. No dying, no consequences for a hellacious diet or wild condomless orgies, literal superpowers, perfect hair...why doesn’t everyone get to live that way?”

He shrugged; and there was an unfamiliar, meditative tension in his face. Almost sorrow. “It’s not all pizza and orgies and heroin. We have weaknesses too.”

“Like what?”

“Hey, look!” Joe piped cheerfully, twisting around towards the parking lot. “I think our GrubHub guy is here.”

Bad Blood

I was definitely regretting that fourth slice of pineapple pizza as I waddled into Chemistry, navigating sluggishly around the hulking frat boys and giggling sorority girls and mousy bookish types who lugged around colossal backpacks that were always threatening to knock an unsuspecting passerby off their feet at each unthinking turn. But while I was arriving in the classroom—physically, anyway; emotionally I was standing in an empty field somewhere screaming I cannot be falling in love with a hundred-year-old mobster vampire!! into the void—Ben was a countercurrent darting through the crowds and towards the hallway door.

“Where are you rushing off to, old guy?” I asked him. “Bingo? To renew your AARP membership? To walk vigorously around the inside of a mall?”

Ben responded in that deep, low, humorless voice. “They’re doing some kind of blood typing experiment today. I probably shouldn’t be around for that.”

“Oh.” I glanced over at Professor Belvin, who was indeed hunched over the table at the front of the classroom and laying out rows of Q-tips and rectangular paper cards and alcohol swabs and bottles of clear liquid, whistling what sounded like Time Of The Season.

Ben sighed irritably, rubbing his crinkled forehead. “I already used up all my absences. I’m gonna have to make up a compelling last-minute tragedy. Tell Professor Belvin my grandma died or something.”

“I mean, technically, she did at some point.”

“Ugh,” Ben replied, not consoled at all.

“Wait, I got this.”

I gripped my belly, sank into the nearest chair, and groaned dramatically. It really didn’t require all that much acting. Ben watched with huge green eyes, confounded.

“Miss Swan!” Professor Belvin cried, rushing over. He was wearing khaki pants, a white shirt, and suspenders and a matching bowtie patterned with bubbling multicolored test tubes. Belvin had been Charlie’s classmate from kindergarten through high school, and still palled around with him over Bud Lights and low-quality nachos on bowling league nights. Bowling was, evidently, the sport of choice for middle-aged Forks dads. Also for Welsh vampire pseudo-dads born in the 1400s.

I whimpered in reply.

“Are you alright, Miss Swan?” Professor Belvin asked worriedly. A few students had begun to congregate around the scene. I felt a pang of genuine nausea as perspiration beaded at my temples. You better appreciate this, Mr. Hardy.

“I’m okay,” I said, in my most pained and martyrish voice. “I don’t want to miss...today’s lesson...it looks so fascinating...but I didn’t wash my kale thoroughly last night and then I had a salad for dinner and now I might have food poisoning.”

“You poor thing!” Belvin exclaimed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about class. You can just answer some textbook questions or something, no problem. Please go get checked out to make sure you’re alright.”

“Could someone...maybe...help me get to the campus clinic...?” My eyes listed towards Ben. “Maybe...my lab partner?”

“That’s a good idea.” Professor Belvin turned to Ben. “Mr. Lee, would you be willing to escort Miss Swan to the clinic? You can do an alternative assignment as well. If you don’t mind missing the blood typing lab.”

“I’d be delighted to help,” Ben responded, still puzzled. I offered him my hand, and Ben took it, grimacing as he led me out into the hallway. As soon as we were alone, he dropped my hand and opened up several feet of space between us.

“Thanks so much, Miss Swan, you are a lifesaver,” I said, imitating his morose, rumbling British accent. “Oh, you’re very welcome, Ben. You can repay me in basic courteous conversation and Starbucks gift cards and by maybe not killing me.”

“So you’re totally fine?” Ben asked flatly.                

“Of course. Nobody with taste eats raw kale.”

Frowning, frustrated, he started puffing on his vape pen. “You need to stop doing nice things for me. It’s extremely disorienting.”

“This may be difficult for you to come to terms with, but you, Ben Hardy, are worth being the recipient of nice things.”                          

“No, you still don’t get it,” he snapped, grabbing my wrist, spinning me around to face him in the empty hallway. “That’s all I’ve ever done. Kill people like you.”

The Fire

“Who is the cutest little alpaca I’ve ever seen?!” I cooed in a squeaky falsetto, scratching her wooly brown chin. “Who’s going to come home and live with me and Charlie forever?!”

“That’s illegal, ma’am.” Joe was watching me, arms crossed over his Chicago Cubs t-shirt, smiling wistfully.

“It is not!”

“It actually is,” Rami added. He was lying on the grass and gazing up into the roiling, grey, late-afternoon clouds with his fingers laced behind his black hair. None of the Lees were wearing sunglasses now. “A house has to be zoned as farmland to have alpacas, which ours is. Yours, tragically, is not.”

“What are you, a lawyer?” I shot back.

Rami grinned. “I was once. And I will be again, in approximately...let me count...five years.”

“That’s what you want to do with your boundless time and energy? Be a corporate shill?”

Joe cackled. “He tried that already. It lasted about five minutes.”

“Manhattan in the 1980s,” Rami reminisced dreamily. “Hundred-hour workweeks. Cocaine everywhere. What a time to be alive. And I hardly ever left the office, so the sunlight thing wasn’t a problem.”

“Okay, so you’re not in it for the Maseratis or the drugs...”

“I’m going to be an immigration attorney,” Rami told me. “Help refugees apply for asylum to come to the United States. Arabic-speaking refugees, in particular.”

“Wow. I stand corrected. That’s wonderful, Rami. I now feel like a total tool for only aspiring to save sea turtles.” But it made sense, of course. What would any good person spend eternity doing? Making the world just a tiny bit better. I glanced at Joe, teasing him. “And you just study how to get rich, huh?”

“I’m a venture capitalist,” he said brightly. “I invest in small businesses, counsel them, encourage them, connect them with other people in the industry, help them grow. And I don’t need the money, so I take a practically microscopic equity stake. I’m basically a professional charitable donor.”

“And you get to put all of those charming mob-guy skills to use.”

Joe winked. “Exactly.”

“Doesn’t it get old?” I asked both of them. “Being college students?”

Rami shrugged. “No really. The world changes, schools of thought evolve, our own interests fluctuate. Every few decades we circle back and go for another round, fresh degrees, maybe new professions entirely. You learn something new every time.”  

“And I’ve been waiting for all my old professors to die so I could go back to U Chicago for fifty years!” Joe shouted. “I’m fucking pumped!”

“But...don’t you already know everything...?”

Joe chuckled. “We’re vampires, Baby Swan, we’re not prodigies. We’re sharper than the average person, sure. But it still takes effort to learn. And we all have things we suck at.”

“Like not being obnoxious,” Rami said, nodding to Joe.

“Like not minding our own fucking business,” Joe hurled back.

“I cannot control the fact that I’m a literal mind reader—”

“You boys behave yourselves,” Mercy called in her relaxed, drawling Southern accent, swinging a basket of carrots and zucchinis and cabbages that she’d dug out of her garden, wearing a long flowing yellow dress and her hair tied up in a scarf. She plodded over in her bare feet, handed me a few carrots, then pointed to the chocolate-colored alpaca I was petting. “That lady there is Athens. And the black and white one by Joe is Augusta. Then there’s Norcross, and Alpharetta, and Savannah...and that real chubby grey one heading into the barn is Marietta.”

“I adore them,” I replied, beaming. Mercy had sheep and pigs and a couple of cows too, all ambling contently around the emerald green field as the first threads of fiery, rust-hued sunset were lighting up the horizon.

“We used to have ducks, too,” Mercy mused. “But they disappeared recently...”

Rami passed Joe a knowing smirk. Joe mouthed back menacingly: Do not.

“Hey mom,” Rami piped.

Joe jabbed an index finger at him. “No, don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare—”

“Joe ate the ducks.”

“You bitch!” Joe cried.

“Oh, Joseph,” Mercy sighed mournfully, lifting a brush out of her basket and dragging it down Athens’ fuzzy back.

“I’m sorry! It was one time! I was weak!”

“I’m not angry, sweetheart,” Mercy said. “I’m just disappointed.”

“Mom, that’s worse!”

Rami climbed to his feet and swatted grass and leaves off his cardigan sweater. “Alright folks. My work here is done. Peace out.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to do a hit and run like that, hey, Rami, hey, hey, come back here!”

Joe trotted after him, shouting a litany of insults, as Rami laughed hysterically and careened into the house. Lucy and Gwil were in the kitchen baking chocolate chip cookies; Scarlett was in the garage changing the brakes on Ben’s Vantage; Ben was noticeably absent from the Lee household and presumably out hunting. It was remarkably easy to picture his fingers closing around bloodied flesh, a wolf’s or a bear’s or an elk’s, lowering his fangs to a pulsing jugular.

“So you’re really into this whole farming thing,” I said to Mercy, looking out over the field rimmed by towering western hemlock trees. I didn’t know exactly how many acres of land the Lees owned, but it was a lot. Mercy adopted rescue animals, donated vegetables from the garden to local food pantries, and occasionally rented out the barn as a wedding venue.

“I’ve always loved it. I had a farm, you know. Before I met Gwil.”

Before she died.

“I didn’t know that,” I murmured, wanting to learn more, afraid to ask, never meaning to pry or offend. “I remember you mentioned the Civil War, and a barn...being...well...being trapped in it. When it burned down.”

Mercy nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s the polite version of the story, isn’t it?” She set down her basket in the tall grass, tugged distractedly at a dark strand of hair that had escaped her scarf, stared glassily out into the sunset muted with cloud cover as Athens moseyed away. “Do you want to know what happened? I’ll tell you if you do. But I don’t want to upset you, dear.”

My voice was barely a whisper. “I’d like to know.”

“We had a little farm out in the middle of nowhere,” Mercy explained. “My husband Arthur and I.”

And it felt so outlandish to hear her say those words. Husband. She had a husband before Gwil. She had a whole life before this one.

“He had a bullet in one leg and a limp from a hunting accident when he was a boy, so he was never called up to enlist. It was a rich man’s war, but it was the poor men they sent to die in it. That’s how it always goes, I expect. And how it always will. We had two daughters, twelve and fifteen. I won’t tell you their names. Don’t take that personally, dear. I haven’t spoken their names in a hundred and fifty years.”

She turned her murky eyes—like homemade bread crust or coffee or the wood walls of a log cabin—to me.

“When the Union Army came through, they were beasts. Men like that...men who have been killing and looting and burning their way across hundreds of miles...all they want to do is get blood on their hands. That’s all they remember how to do. So that’s exactly what they did. They slaughtered our cattle for meat. They burned the house down. And then they took me and my girls, and they...they...well, you know what they did. What men do when they’re monsters. And when Arthur tried to stop them, they shot him in the chest and spit mouthfuls of chewing tobacco on him as he bled out in the dirt. Called him a coward and a deserter. Told him everything they were planning to do to me and my girls. And when they were done doing all of those things, they locked the three of us in the barn and set it ablaze. I was the only one still alive when Gwilym got there. And believe me, I didn’t want to be.”

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed, my throat burning for Mercy, for her family, for this divinely kind and benign and tender woman.

She patted my cheek fondly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I got a second chance. Gwilym gave me a second chance. That’s what he does, you know. He finds broken people, fixes them, loves them fiercely. He gave me forever. Two more daughters. And three sons.”

Three sons, I thought. Rami and Joe and Ben. She counted Ben.

“Does someone have to be dying?” I asked her softly. “You know. To become like you.”

“No, honey. That’s just how Gwil does things.”

“But...why? What’s the possible downside? Why not change anyone who wants it?” Why not change someone like me?

And Mercy peered over at me, contemplative, curious, like tiptoeing gingerly over rotted floorboards, like weaving through a minefield. Like she was trying to figure out what I’d already been told.

“Hey Baby Swan,” Joe said, startling me. I whirled to see him waiting with a patient smile and his hands buried in his pockets. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

He led me upstairs to Gwil’s 1960s-style office, where Dr. Lee had cleaned and stitched the tiny gash in my forehead after my misadventure with Ben in the woods outside Calawah University, where the wall above the sturdy oak desk was adorned with a massive painting filled with gorgeous, unfamiliar, inhuman faces. Joe took a deep breath, and then he began.

“This,” he announced, introducing the painting, “is the vampire version of the mob. They can trace their existence back to before the Roman Empire. They find people who they think have potential, have talents. They turn them. And then they offer them a hundred-year contract. You sign it, or they murder you. When your term is up, you get to decide whether to renew or leave. But almost no one ever leaves. After a century of taking orders and guarding and killing, what else do you know how to do?” He pointed to the terrifying woman with long white hair and red eyes. “That’s Liesl. She’s literally Satan, only blonder. The chick with the tattoos is Akari. She can meet a human and tell what powers they’ll have once they’re changed. Very useful, obviously. The dude who looks like Idris Elba is Cato, and he’s actually an okay guy, he’s the one currently assigned to keep tabs on Gwil’s coven...”

I soaked the names in like rain into dark, lush Washington earth as Joe relayed them to me, strange and beautiful names: Aruna, Phelan, Morana, Adair, Zora, Araminta, Honora, Victorien, Rigel, Sahel.

“Who’s that?” I asked, gesturing to the young man standing at the center of the painting, the one with black hair and eyes so light and luminous a brown they were almost gold and a sinister, unmistakable magnetism.

“Very good question,” Joe complimented. “That’s their Al Capone. That’s Larkin.”

“And what’s his vampire superpower?” He has to have one. I know he does.

“How do I even put that into words? It’s more than charisma. It’s slightly less than mind reading. He can see through people, what they want most, what they fear. And he can make them do things.”

I gazed into those omniscient glowing eyes, feeling myself getting caught there, feeling some primal dread swelling in the capillary beds of my heart and lungs and bone marrow. “Joe, I’m thoroughly enjoying this captivating backstory, really, but...why are you telling me all of this now?”

“Because you asked why Ben is so different than the rest of us. This is why.” Joe waved broadly at the painting, at the closest thing his world had to a mafia, to unrepentant killers, to actual demons. “This is where he came from.”

[leverage-commentary]

Leverage Season 2, Episode 7, The Two Live Crew Job, Audio Commentary Transcript

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

Amy: Hi, I’m Amy Berg, Supervising Producer and Writer of this episode.

John: John Rogers, Executive Producer and Co-Writer of this episode. Hold on. [Opens bee.] There we go.

[Laughter]

Dean: The beer has been opened.

John: The Guiness has been opened. Amy Berg where did this episode come from?

Amy: Well, I mean, when you have a show about a team of con men sort of- one of the first episodes that you think of is- 

John: Yeah, it was like one of the first ones we broke- we talked about last season-

Amy: What happens when they go up against another team of con men? And obviously that's not something you really wanna, sort of, pull the trigger on during season one, so we sort of sat on it for a bit.

Dean: But we talked about it a lot in season one.

Amy: We did talk about it.

John: Yeah. But really you have to have your- part of the fun is having your characters and opposition- of people that make a difference, having the opposition of you need to know the characters really well.

Amy: You need to learn who our people are before we can bring in a new set of people.

John: Yeah, so it was a lot of fun putting together the different combinations and different variations on this- the evil team of evil Leverage.

Amy: Loves it.

John: Why the Gustav Klimt?

Amy: The Gustav Klimpt, now you're testing me and it's been a while, I believe this painting was called Higeia and it was technically destroyed by the Nazis in 1945. And it was sort of a choice to pick a painting that wasn't actually in existence, so we weren’t stepping on anybody's toes, saying that this was a stolen painting.

John: The likeless- the equivalent of likeness rights on paintings is an enormous pain in the ass so as a matter of fact, there's a statue of Lincoln in the park that's in the sequence later that we shot and then we had to get the rights to using that statute, even in the background.

Dean: Yeah.

John: Now that's very tricky stuff. Dean tell us about the fun of shooting this.

Dean: Well we wanted to try and keep perpetual motion and show two different attempts. Our team, which tries to do a low tech break in through basically just cutting through a wall through this cheapo office behind the high tech office, and then the daring team that actually chases the bullet head on.

John: Yeah. And there is our villain, Griffin.

Amy: Griffin Dunne.

John: Exactly.

Dean: I've wanted to work with Griffin my whole life. I remember seeing him in An American Werewolf Through London and just falling madly in love with this guy; I just thought he was amazing. And then when we went to do this episode, it was actually Tim Hutton who said, ‘What do you think about my pal Griffin Dunne playing this part?’ And it was just like a gift from heaven.

John: Oh yeah, we are all over that. And this is a lot of fun and we built a fake wall- And that is Tim's assistant, correct?

Amy: That’s that’s Elle, yeah.

John: That's Elle, Tim’s assistant, in her big screen debut with us tormenting her.

Amy: Indeed. And they're playing detectives Marlow and Archer who, as you know, is an homage to both Raymond Chandler and Ross Macdonald.

John: That's right.

Dean: And there's fun outtakes from that which will be in the gag reel.

Amy: Excellent. This should have a lot of gag reel footage.

John: It's also- to tell you what's weird is, Archer actually- 

Amy: Was the name of Tim Spades partner in [mumbles]?

John: That's right. That's what the original reference was. That’s also Ross Mcdonald.

Amy: But Ross Mcdonald was inspired by that character in order.

John: Really?

Amy: Yeah.

John: I didn't know that. There you go.

Dean: Fans of the show In Treatment should know that this actress, Noa Tishby, is actually the Executive Producer of In Treatment on HBO.

John: That's right Noa is an Israli actress, she was in Israel, she saw the original show, she dug in, got the rights herself, brought it to America, and wound up executive producing the American version.

Amy: By the way, that's Wil Wheaton.

[Laughter]

Amy: Which is so awesome. And who cast Will Wheaton in this episode, John Rogers?

John: Well I technically cast him, but I believe you had the idea of hiring Wil Wheaton because I'm the one who actually signed the papers.

Amy: Thank you, I appreciate the credit on that.

John: Yes.

Dean: And I was so happy because Wil Wheaton and I actually used to play on the same hockey team together.

Amy: That's right.

Dean: And this was back when he was on Star Trek. And I was dumb enough to allow him to play goalie at the time and-

[Laughter]

Dean: And [Unintelligible]’s son took a slapshot that cracked his helmet open and gave him 17 stitches across the forehead.

Amy: You helped break Wil Wheaton's face.

Dean: And the producers of Star Trek called me screaming at me and forbidding me to ever allowing him to play on the team again.

Amy: Nice. Dogs Playing Poker, by the way, totally public domain. That’s why we chose that one.

John: There you go, there's a lot of variations of that, too, that’s right. And this is actually our little slam is not a part of the subtle on a lot of the CBS crime shows; just the sort of horrible-

Amy: Yeah, the over the top-

John: When we created Leverage, one of the reasons we did it was because so many shows were chasing serial killers. I think it was Chris Downey who said, ‘You know what? Serial killers are covered. Let’s chase rich white dudes in suits.’

Amy: I think they're done.

John: There's only ever been 10 and they've been caught 100 times. And that was Apollo Robbins. This is a great- this is one of Dean's signature roundy-rounds. And I was saying the other day-

Dean: An amazing steadicam shot.

John: I was saying the other day, we've actually learned in the writers room how to assign dialogue to make this easier.

Amy: Yeah.

[Laughter]

John: So rather than rewriting on the fly-

Amy: -we write towards the circle track.

John: Cause you can actually see. It goes- it's like triple play: it goes to Beth to Aldis to Chris to Tim and then back around again.

Amy: I love Parker; there’s always- always something secret going on, whether its secret nazis or- 

John: Yeah well, we kind of establish it in The Day of the Hunter Job, Parker’s realm of knowledge outside of stealing is not good.

[Laughter]

John: Like, anything that doesn't involve stealing, she will believe it if the other team members tell her. Oh this is great. I remember we shot this day. Dean, tell us about this bit.

Dean: Well this was one where we actually went full circle because we came in, we rehearsed it one way and it felt really good, but then we started to feel like, ‘Gosh we're not doing enough.’ And so then we reblocked the entire scene so we could all do more and have more happen, and then we all paused and went, ‘You know, the first one was much better.’

[Laughter]

Dean: And that's what we went with.

John: Yup. What I think was part of what was driving that was because I was on set that day, ‘Do not touch the motion sensitive bomb.’

Amy: Thank you.

John: Was the fact that this was gonna be Gina's last episode, full day with the cast- And also, she really dug in on the fact that the character was going to die and it genuinely upset the cast. Like the cast was a little freaked out here; they got way- cause this is a very claustrophobic set, very claustrophobic scene. The way we usually shoot is we shoot longer takes. So we do the whole thing, like we’ve shot entire acts in one take at some point.

Dean: That's true.

Amy: Yeah. By the way, this bit with the pudding, I've known John for two years and this is the only time I've ever turned him on.

[Laughter]

Amy: I wrote this bit, and he read the act and he came in and he burst into my office and was like ’hahaha’.

John: Remember you didn’t use it you; had talked about it and-

Amy: That’s true. That’s true. I brought it up in dialogue, but I didn't actually employ it. They didn’t- Parker didn't actually use it.

John: I actually kicked in the door- the only time I’ve yelled at you- 

Amy: Yeah, he yelled at me.

John: I kicked in the door and said, ‘How do you come up with instant pudding in a motion sensitive bomb and not actually use it?’ And so we had- and Parker, we had Parker do it. There's a lot of great acting in here, there's a lot of Gina digging in on, sort of, Sophie's past catching up with her. Hardison-

Amy: But this is a scene where it’s really easy to overwrite it, because your instinct is sort of to write to the emotion of this scene like Sophie could die. But the point is to underwrite and let your actors find the emotion between the lines.

John: That beat right there with Chris and Gina.

Amy: Yes.

John: There's a very nice recurring thing we try to do, which is, whenever it becomes something about killing someone, they go to Eliot because Eliot- because Eliot used to do that. And there's a nice moment there. I was actually there- oh look at that look. I love that look. Where-

Amy: Emotion between the lines.

John: Where basically Eliot signs off on the fact that she's probably gonna die and Gina and Eliot worked that out and it's just a lovely moment. Ahhh this is great, now how did we do this?

Amy: Gina just knocks this out of the park.

Dean: So Gina was very pregnant at the time, so we had to do a double for the wide shots, for the running, and Gina for the closeups.

John: Yeah, and then this is a miniature.

Dean: That's right. Well, the building is the actual building we shot at, but the explosion is a miniature that we shot at our parking lot that we digitally composited on top of it. Now at the time, people didn't know what we were gonna do with Gina's character because Gina was pregnant. So when we did this scene and we aired this episode a lot of people were really upset at this point because they actually thought we had killed her off of the show. 

Amy and John: Yeah.

Dean: And early Twitters were very upset.

Amy: Were not favorable.

John: Were very angry.

[Laughter]

Dean: How could you kill her off the show? But then-

Amy: This was originally intended to be the midseason finale, which in that case, the fans would definitely think for sure she was gonna be gone for a while or forever. 

John: Yep.

Amy: But we ended up adding two episodes to the end of the midseason run, so we did get to see her again.

Dean: I don't know what it is exactly, but for me, Parker’s performance- or Beth’s performance as Parker in this section here is reminiscent of some of the great comedians. 

Amy: Yeah.

Dean: Because it's so subtle what she's doing. And a lot of this came out of Beth herself who said -

Amy: I rewrote this scene based on Beth's notes that you were so kind to give me, and it sort of- it made the scene like 10 times better. I don't even remember what it was originally, but-

John: She's trying to remember what her lines are to say as Parker and her eyes roll up like ‘what am I supposed to say’ and then she gets freaked out at seeing Gina dead and loses it.

John: And then she totally spirals out.

Amy: There's a lot going on in, like, 20 seconds; it's pretty funny.

John: And then Hardison having to go up and bail her out. And again, there's a lot of- there's a lot of stuff going on in the structure this year with Gina leaving, and just for that tempering and having us to accelerate that storyline- There's a lot of Hardison/Parker relationship stuff between the lines on all the shows, we just never made it an A plot, but you can actually see the relationship evolve over the course of the season, when you watch the entire season particularly, the second half. And of course Chris is wearing a bandana under his hat because that's when he had slammed his head onto the set.

Dean: In the previous episode.

John: Exactly.

Amy: Yeah, he’s got a giant scar on his forehead right now.

John: Beautiful cemetery up on a big hill in Portland, nice enough to let us shoot there. Beautiful, gorgeous location. And that's a nice bit of acting, too.

Dean: Yeah, just the little moment of him seeing her and then getting that shock of losing someone that he cares about.

John: Yeah, and just processing.

Amy: So far you've pointed out that your favorite moments are the ones where there's no dialogue, so I'm glad I could contribute to that.

[Laughter]

John: Well you wrote- no no, that’s right, I usually go back and write the stage directions, but you do a lot of the-

Amy: This- and so it begins, when John makes fun of me throughout the commentary.

John: I don't make fun of you, just when you take too much credit.

[Laughter]

Dean: This is the controversy.

Amy: I was taking no credit!

Dean: In this scene, the gravestone says Cathrine Klive, her actor name, and at the end Sophie Deveraux and a lot of people thought that was actually a mistake, but why don't you address that?

John: Well we were really- it comes up in the end. We really wanted- and this is sort of a meta structural thing - she wants to kill Sophie Deaveraux. She realizes Sophie Deveraux as an identity, as a life, is a dead end, and so she changes the tombstone so that she can eventually give up that identity. And it's interesting because what Sophie is- realized is that she's going down a dead end, and in theory she’s the current criminal and Nate is the honest man. Nate is also going down a dead end, but he's way too obsessive and blind to realize it.

Amy: Yeah.

John: And so by the end of the season, you’ll see Sophie is a lot more emotionally evolved than Nate is.

Amy: It's true. This is sort of the beginning of Nate’s spiral where-

John: Yeah, maybe the end of Sophie’s thing.

Amy: His priority shifts and, like, winning becomes more important than servicing the clients.

John: We just sort of tease in 206. Great scene between Griffin and- really that was kind of fun. Once we knew we had Griffin Dunne, a lot of these scenes became, ‘Alright, it's really just gonna be head to head.’

Amy: Yeah, yeah.

John: Yeah. It's just- we’re just gonna have the two of them- And the fact that they're friends was really helpful.

Amy: And this the promise of the premise when you do a crew vs crew episode. What you are promising to the audience is you're gonna have one-on-one faceoffs between the characters and their counterparts.

John: And this is part of the evolution of writing an episode, is when we were breaking this, we had a really hard time getting that up as fast as possible, and that's what you wound up- doing the inner cut break in at the opening. Because even though they weren't facing off at each other, we gave the audience the promise of the premise.

Amy: Yes.

John: And the beautiful Hyundai Genesis. A fine automobile.

Amy: A fine, fine vehicle.

Dean: Beautiful peel out.

John: It was nice. In a cemetery!

[Laughter]

John: There was a moment where I was talking to one of the actors, I looked down and realized I was standing on a civil war veteran’s grave. That was a little disturbing.

Amy: That’s classy Rogers.

Dean: I absolutely love the little makeup and hair choices of Gina in this scene, it's so 40’s noir.

John: Yes.

Amy: Yeah, yeah the hair.

John: The whole episode she's playing 40’s noir. And it was a really interesting look, and not one we can do a lot because of the characters she's played, but this was interesting; she's not playing a character ever in this episode except in the opening.

Dean: Right.

John: I kind of liked her in the cop outfit.

Amy: It's one of my favorite running gags in the entire series of the show. Parker just not entirely buying that Gina’s actually alive.

John: Yeah.

[Laughter]

Amy: ‘I'm not dead!’

John: Some part of her brain understands it, but the emotional center is so screwed up.

Amy: ‘I saw her in a coffin, ergo, she must be, in fact, dead.’

John: This is also great, is digging in on the fact that the whole ex-boyfriend/crew/guy who runs the crew she used to be with. And for a while, for like a minute and a half in the room, remember that character was Sophie's boyfriend for the whole first half of the season and this was gonna be the payoff, but we just never knew if we were gonna get the availability for that actor and we just couldn't risk it. And it also seemed a little dishonest she would hide that, so.

Dean: I love the Hardison line, ‘You saw other teams before us?’

[Laughter]

Amy: ‘No, just another Nate.’

John: ‘Just another Nate.’ That's- yes, this is a big family beat of looks back and forth. 

Amy: Lots of looks.

John: Now how did you- I remember you were very, Dean, very big into designing the other team’s headquarters.

Dean: Yeah, well I really wanted to feel like a mirror of our headquarters. But in a believable way in that they don't have permanent space so they’re in a small space. But I was trying to mirror even screen direction-wise that one team is looking left-right the other team is looking right-left so that we can really feel like these are absolute mirror images of each other.

John: Yeah even the looks left-right and right-left match.

Dean: That’s right.

John: Yeah, no it's interesting. And there's Apollo Robbins, who we haven't mentioned yet.

Amy: Apollo Robbins! Yes, he's our technical consultant on the show. He is a master thief. But not anymore, he's a good guy now. I feel like I should point that out.

John: Yes we should. You can't hire him to do crimes.

Amy: When I say consultant, I mean he's not actually a thief anymore.

John: This is also great; this is also the Mona Lisa scam. Why don’t you explain the Mona Lisa scam since you’re a research freak?

Amy: Oh great, now I’m-

John: 1911.

Amy: Yes, 1911 there was a con man, I don't remember his name, but someone says it I think in this scene, where he created six forgeries of the Mona Lisa, stole the original, and then sold the six fakes on the black market to individual buyers as though they were the original and got six times the profit.

John: Some con and heist shows will just do that plot and act like they came up with it. [Coughs] Asshole! [Cough]. 

[Laughter]

John: Rather than mention the fact that this is something that really happened, that you should honor. 

Amy: This is something that really happened, that I actually read about.

John: Also used the Doctor Who's: The City Of Death written by Douglas Adams.

Amy: Oh yeah, oh yeah.

John: There you go. This is something else we did a lot of, which was the process of elimination bit with the screens. Remember we did it in Hunter too? And it's just kind of fun because it’s kind of something from my physics background which is all about probability. And the fact that a series of educated guesses- it's kind of like our version of detective work.

Amy: Yeah.

John: You know, it's like crime detection, it's a lot of fun. And yeah, and now we're really seeing Nate start to spin out of control.

Amy: But this is what I would call dueling competence porn.

John: Yes it is.

Amy: This, and the third act where the teams are doing their jobs and doing them well.

John: Competence porn, by the way, is a term- I forget how it came about, but it's basically-

Amy: It's just a room bit.

John: It’s a room bit. It’s like, you know what? I just like watching people who are good at their jobs doing it, especially if they're entertaining. A lot of it was from 208 was watching Beth Riesgraf- in 208 there was an entire act that's a break in-

Amy: Oh yeah.

John: That’s Beth breaking into a vault. And when you're writing it, you're like, ‘Gosh, that feels thin,’ and then you're watching it and you're like, ‘I'm watching Parker break into a vault for 15 minutes and this is amazing!’

Amy: I could watch it for 40 minutes.

Dean: This is one of my favorite bullet time shots that we’ve done.

John: Yes, now this is- now remember this is all done not digitally- well we do it really. We freeze everyone in the background and the cameraman walks through it and we digitally speed it up. What is this space? This is the- 

Dean: This is an actual museum in Portland that we turned into our space.

John: Yup.

Amy: Wasn't there a naked sculpture that you guys put a leaf on?

John: Yes, up in the upper level.

Amy: That's my favorite story.

John: Yeah. And then- yes, this is 4-way; this is not as insane as the one in the season opener.

Amy: But it’s still insane.

John: But this is a 4-way through about 100 extras.

Amy: I don't think Dean understands that we’re making television.

[Laughter]

Dean: Well, you know, honestly you don't even attempt a shot like this without a steadicam operator like Gary Camp.

Amy: Gary Camp is amazing.

Dean: He's a serious feature film guy. I mean, that was all one shot.

John: Yeah. That's stunning. And then you bring it back to Parker- and this is also fun, is the fact that we make fun in the show. And this was- even when we did tap out and some people were like, ‘Oh, you're making fun of Lincoln, Nebraska,’ when we had Sophie make fun of the food. We’re not making fun of the locations, we’re making fun of the fact that Sophie’s a little princess.

Amy: Yeah.

John: She's not someone who does well with things that- and the van, the van, actually, over the course of the second season becomes a character.

Dean: I love that she's says about how it smells a little whiffy.

[Laughter]

Amy: Which is a callback in The Future Job as well.

John: Yes, this is hard work, it smells like hard work. Yeah, Hardison's affection for the van.

Amy: Respect the van!

John: Respect the van, yeah.

Dean: Now this is actually the first scene where we’ll see the teams start to go head to head.

John: Yeah. Split up, call out your jobs.

Amy: This is the promise of the premise act, as we call it. And it's the Van Gogh that they're after, the Cafe Terrace At Night, I believe it’s called.

Dean: And this is a very important moment because it really established who Nate and Sophie were to the rest of the team. Nate being the one that makes the plans, but Sophie being the one who keeps them safe. And that had never been exposited before, and by doing that, it really set it up.

John: Boom! And then the parallel structure over to Hardison's opposite number, Chaos, played by Wil Wheaton, just four vans down. 

Amy: Nice.

John: That was really inspired. They’re the most twin of the bunch. Oh, and this is amazing. This is amazing because that's all real time. That wallet never came off. This was this whole section we just gave to Apollo.

Amy: Yeah. He's like, what can you do? And he just basically-

John: And he took Beth aside and they came up with a bunch of- it’s like, you know what? We're just gonna run camera, you just do a bunch of you do you, man.

Amy: By the way, there was no one else we had in mind for Apollo. Even when I was like- when I came up with the concept, and then I also did the outline, I also called the character Apollo, hoping at some point we would actually cast him.

John: But was the Wil Wheaton character originally a girl?

Amy: In fact, she was.

John: Yes, that’s right.

[Laughter]

Amy: Yeah, it was- I believe it was a hot Latina- 

John: Yes.

Amy: -that he was going up against, and then at some point, you know, in the casting process I turned to you and I was like, ‘You know, we've been talking about Wil Wheaton for something. Is this not the prefect role or not?’

John: And Noa Tishby rocking the dress. Noa was actually in the Israeli army. So that was kinda cool as we were looking at a lot of different actresses and Dean had seen her tape.

Dean: Yeah.

John: And it was like, you know, I wanna try a different ethnicity. I wanna try a different look, and brought her in. And what's great is she looks like she can take a punch, you know, that's a tough chick. And she really did great in the fight scenes and was a really- we got really lucky in this episode.

Amy: Oh yeah.

John: You know, we usually have to cast one big role; we cast five. 

Dean: Right.

John: And they were all great.

Dean: Now this fight scene was-

John: Ok I'm gonna take credit for this one because nobody else is-

Amy: I wasn't gonna take credit for it.

John: No shadow on this, I had to explain this 9 times.

[Laughter]

Amy: Oh yeah, that’s right.

Dean: And this sequence was actually getting directed by Marc Roskin and you, John.

John: Yes, at two o’clock in the morning. But I will give Mark Franco big props for throwing the old 1970’s film look.

Amy: The film reel stuff.

Dean: I love it.

John: That is so great. The Shaw brothers look is that and this is the whole-

Dean: That's how they see- in their minds that's how they see fights, like the karate movies they grew up watching. 

John: Yes. And this is based on two things. 1) a great story about samurais- I love that look that Chris did. Great story about two samurai who faced each other, knew each other’s skills so well they fought the entire fight in their head and walked away. And Warren Ellis’ character the Midnighter from The Authority comic book who has sort of the same thing. He does fights backwards in his head. Ah look at that, oh he's a great physical actor, too, it was really- it was nice, cause we cast Apollo, he's never done acting before, he'd never done TV before. And it's the one gamble on the whole show and he was fantastic.

Dean: And he totally pulled it off.

Amy: But he's just so damn charming, it’s like you, sort of, just believed from the beginning that he could do it.

John: Yeah, he's very dangerous. 

[Laughter]

John: It's really- if he ever turned evil, we'd be in a lot of trouble.

Amy: Oh my gosh.

Dean: This next sequence, outside, while I had done the storyboards for it, Marc Roskin shot the hell out of it. And what we wanted to do was an homage to the great Western movies, you know, the Spaghetti Western.

John: Well this was the challenge, and we talked about this when we were writing it. It’s like, nobody does hacking in an interesting way. There's no way to do hacking in an interesting way.

Amy: Visually it’s- filming it is not effective.

John: So abandon trying to do it with the computers and just do the metaphor, which is two guys pitting each other’s intellects against each other, and make it text.

Amy: And it's much more interesting, look at each other than looking at screens.

John: Oh and that timing is great, look at this, it’s just fantastic.

Amy: This is so nerdgasmic.

[Laughter]

Dean: He even had that Spaghetti Western whistle.

Amy: Yeah. I remember the first cut it was only in there subtly and you were like, ‘Hey turn that up, man.’

Dean: Listen, I’m-

John: And look at the little holster move, too. 

Dean: I'm all for subtly, I just want a lot more of it.

[Laughter]

John: Oh no, Wil knocked it out of the park in this. Did you know that he had been doing a bunch of shows and people have come up and asked him to sign his autograph as this character?

Amy: As Chaos.

Dean: That's great.

John: Somebody came up with the anarchists cookbook and asked him to sign it as Chaos.

Dean: And I love that Sophie can’t use a computer.

[Laughter]

John: Utterly useless.

Dean: She just closes it.

John: Well Hardison’s taught Eliot- and the look to the swords. We had so much fun coming up with different props in the scenes. And this was at 2 o’clock in the morning fight fight fight, you win. Fight fight fight, you win. And just- cause they had to learn the routines and we were banging it out in three sizes at a time, it was great. Then we shot the bird. 

Amy: So many looks.

John: And this- you could run the entire Parker/Apollo scene without dialogue and you'd know exactly what's going on.

Amy and Dean: Yeah.

John: Actually-

Dean: She's a little bit the Harpo. You know what I mean.

Amy: She's the Harpo.

John: She's the Harpo, he's Groucho in that scene, it's very subtle.

Amy: Is that Chase? Was that Chase walking towards the camera? It looked a little like Chase.

John: No, no. And this is, again, one of the rules, one of the hard rules of doing these shows. These shows are very hard, is that it can't be a random obstacle. Whatever is your obstacle heading into the third or fourth act must either be a product of the villains plan which you've already set in motion, or something that the team has screwed up or succeeded too well. And not screwed up too often cause that means they suck. So-

Amy: You make it sound like we did something good on purpose. That’s awesome.

John: Yeah, every now and then. And this is just- I want-

Dean: We almost didn’t do this.

John: We almost didn't do, but this is the punchline to the bit, that they're so locked into each other-

Dean: I'm so glad we did it.

John: Yeah. I actually was ready to bail on it, you were like, ‘Yeah, you know what? Let's make time.’ And the little look, and he gives them a bunch-

Dean: A bunch of crazy idiots.

John: Yeah, exactly. Now this is great, Nate’s totally lost in the need to win at this point.

Amy: Oh yeah.

Dean: I love Parker saying that, ‘The people in this line of work are unstable; we can use that.’

John: Yes.

Dean: Completely not realizing that she's in that line of work.

John: Tapping the pad look at that and look at the look Chris- that's another thing. 

Amy: ‘I'm totally helping.’ That's it.

John: Gina gives a little smile which I missed the first time I saw this show.

Amy: There's a lot of little subtleties.

John: And again, second season, you start pairing up things differently. Chris and Gina found a nice rhythm for Sophie and Eliot this year that wasn't there first year, just in the pairings. And we wound up working; it was nice. And this is- yeah, she killed a guy with a mop.

Dean: I love Hardison's jealousy about Chaos, the whole ‘ugh.’

Amy: ‘Chaos.’

[Laughter]

John: Cause, you know, and it's a great thing of acting on Aldis’ part, you know he's beat him. You know that Chaos has beaten him a couple times. He's really- he’s not a pleasant loser, Hardison. And the nice little fist tap for the Kobayashi Maru.

Amy: Nice little knuckle bump, Parker. 

John: Yup. Well that was another one of the little subtle things, that Parker has plainly sat down and watched like all nine Star Trek movies with Hardison because it was just something he did on a Saturday, you know?

[Laughter]

Amy: Well she wants to see, you know, what normal people do.

John: Yeah, Hardison's probably a bad example of that.

Amy: I don't think that's right- the right choice.

John: There's not- you know-

Amy: I gotta say, I love Tim in this scene.

John: Yeah. He’s really mad.

Dean: This one, out of all the cutting back and forth, this was the trickiest because it had to match rhythm, intensity-

Amy: And dialogue.

Dean: -and dialogue.

John: That's right. 

Dean: This was really tricky.

John: Line by line. And that was the tricky bit, too. We had to give both of them the entire script for each one so they could know what they were doing to each other. I think- did Griffin come down the first day and watch Tim?

Dean: I actually think this was Griffin’s either first or second day on the show.

John: That's right. Tim came down to watch- yeah, so he would know what he had done physically. There's a parallel structure even with the team. This was a lot of fun. But this is one of those things that looks really elegant, but scripting, it's a little chimpy. It’s like, once you know what you're going to do, this wrote pretty easy.

Amy: Ok, yes, but I'm gonna go on record in saying that this is the best third act we've ever done in the history of Leverage. I just love it so much.

John: Well, you know what? Again, this is something you sorta learn. We- you know what? You learn how to write the show while you write the show. This is when we really where we realize you only need to do one thing an act. We so tried to buff all the people and, ‘Oh look, at the incredible plot twist’ like, you know what? They're fun characters, they're good characters, let them do one thing.

Dean: Yeah, it's fun to watch them do their thing.

John: One thing every act.

Dean: And I love how they all started to get pumped up for it. On both sides, they are gearing up for game day.

John: This is a great act break.

Amy: Nothing about that act I dont like. And I had very little to do with it.

John: This is easily- this is one of my favorite shows of the season. Of both seasons.

Amy: Mine too.

Dean: And beautifully photographed by our great cinematographer, Dave Connell.

John: That's right, because we were shooting parallel; we were shooting inside the museum and outside. You were outside running back and forth.

Dean: Very intense.

John: And this is a lot of fun. All the security guys were great. Portland once again gave us a great, great acting pool. 

Amy: Go Portland!

John: And then this was a lot of fun, was setting up the snarky dialogue and Aldis and Wil basically sat and sweated in their vans-

Amy: Yeah.

John: -for 6 hours. Cause Aldis is always going, ‘Nobody knows what it's like to work in the van’. That van is hot. So he was very glad to have a playmate.

Amy: Aldis had like one full day of shooting in the van and nowhere else.

John: Yeah, exactly.

Dean: I love the character Tim came up with here, that was great.

John: And Emily is actually the girl I went to prom with. That's where the name comes from.

Dean: Nice.

John: Yep.

Dean: Poor Emily.

John: Yeah I’m- hey!

[Laughter]

Amy: I said nothing. If you noticed, I stayed quiet and said nothing. I'm learning.

John: And Tim plays drunk, distracting guy an awful lot this season. This- and by the way, the security guard that talks him down is great, he's got a really great comedic beat. This, by the way, is a stunning sequence.

Dean and John: 10 millimeter lens.

Amy: 10 millimeter lens? 

John: Down in the basement.

Dean: And look at this steadicam move - down the stairs!

Amy: Running down the stairs.

John: This is a guy walking!

Dean: And then whipping around, that is-

Amy: This is inhuman.

John: It really is.

Dean: For steadicam artists, they will understand how difficult that shot is.

John: By the way, I like the fact that we just locked Beth into the air conditioning system.

[Laughter]

John: ‘Are we gonna build one? No, there's one downstairs! Should we put Beth Riesgraf in moving machinery? If she's up for it.’

Amy: Not sure why we had to put the lock it, but that's ok.

John: It's a good look. And oh yes, it-

Dean: I think this is my favorite of all the air duct scenes, this is my favorite air duct scene.

Amy: This is actually-

John: Well like Two Horse- all of Two Horse where she was bitching while having to do it.

Amy: Oh yeah.

John: This is also- we built the most complicated duct system on earth for this.

Dean: Talk about the bird, because you were there for this.

John: Oh yeah, I- we thought the bird would be CG, much like, we thought we’d be on a CG roof the series premiere, instead we wound up in Chicago 40 stories up. Dean went and found a bird- 

[Laughter]

John: -a North American Kestrel. He said it would be easier to shoot a real bird that was trained, and so if you go on my blog you see pictures of the bird, but that's the last thing we did that night, so at 2 am we had this bird in a box, which was really beautiful.

Dean: Yeah.

John: And- 

Amy: No birds were harmed in the making of this episode.

John: No birds were harmed. It was a really beautiful bird. But yeah, the trainer was hiding right off screen to summon the bird to get it to fly across.

Dean: This was actually one of the most difficult fight scenes we've ever shot, mainly because of the small space they were in.

John: How did you get the camera up there?

Dean: We literally locked it onto the ceiling and just let it run for the whole day. And then hoped we had good material.

John: Oh cool. That everybody would hit their marks.

Amy: She's so intense, I love it.

John: And the- him switching back over to Hebrew, this was a lot of fun. Oh and ‘now I’ve got the lasers.’

Amy: ‘No, now I’ve got the lasers!’

Dean: His arrogance was just awesome.

John: The two of them were fantastic.

Amy: He’s almost too good at it.

John: Big thanks to Derek, yet again, for building a great interface that lets the audience know exactly what’s going on.

Amy: Derek’s our graphics guy, he's amazing.

John: Does all our computer stuff. And our security guards, you know, somewhat oblivious, but good guys.

Dean: That's just the oldest gag in the world that I love.

Amy: It flickers only when they're not looking at it.

John: You know what it is, it’s the Abbott and Costello, it’s the candle on Dracula’s coffin.

[Laughter]

Dean: And I love that.

John: I love that reveal.

Dean: And he comes in dressed as, and named as, Nate Ford. I mean, that is just fabulous.

Amy: He's with the insurance company, what?

John: It is a great little, ‘Fuck you,’ from that character. 

Dean: And Tim’s look at him for doing it, it’s just awesome.

John: But this was the fun of the fourth- and this was really hard when we were plotting. It's like ok, in the fourth act they have to be good, but they have to look like they’re losing. And they have to look like they're losing so bad you come into the fifth act not knowing if they won, and then we have to somehow pull it out.

Amy: Yeah. This, by the way, the scene with the two of them talking with the bird cage, was one of the first images that popped into my head when we were breaking this episode. I just love this.

John: But this duct tape- cause here's the thing, we have to shoot this direction and you have to shoot them crawling off these directions. This thing was huge, a human sized hamster trail. Took up an entire ball room for that one shot. Great fight scene, and we had talked about this, and this is a lot steamier and sexier than originally pitched.

Amy: It's literally steamy.

John: Dean was all over- like ‘I'm going to fight. I'm gonna shoot the steamiest fight scene that we've ever had.’

Dean: I thought it would be interesting to do a fight scene as a love scene.

John: Yeah.

Dean: And so the fight is actually foreplay.

John: Yeah.

[Laughter]

John: And a dance. It’s really like a dance sequence. We used to always say fights are like dances because of the movement and everything, but you know, you took that very literally and everything, which was great.

Dean: Now, by the way, we've done lasers in several episodes before. 

Amy: Yeah.

Dean: These are the best lasers we ever did by far.

Amy: It's pretty cool.

John: Yeah, and having them move, that was the key. It's yet another example of something that you think will be really hard, actually turns out to be a little easier and way cooler.

Dean: And way cooler.

John: Yeah.

Dean: And again, kudos to the effects artists. If you look carefully, you can see the lasers reflecting in her pupils.

John: Reflecting in her eyes. I know, that’s sick. 

Amy: That's really hot.

John: That was really great. This is a big ‘they are screwed’ act out.

Amy: Oh my god, look at that!

Dean: That is so cool.

Amy: Why did I not notice that before?

John: And wet people fighting.

[Laughter]

John: You know what? We give you everything on Leverage.

Dean: Little sex, little violence. 

John: And it’s good.

Dean: And now we were able to take the hat off cause we were able to use the real scar on his forehead finally in the episode!

John: Also kinda cool, Kevin, our stunt coordinator, had them fighting in Israeli military style. That they were both- they had both sort of picked up- we always had Eliot kind of fight in that style, but the fact that that would be her training-

Dean: And I love that these two are standing next to Honest Abe.

[Laughter]

John: And that's a great entrance. She's really got-

Amy: ‘Oohhh.’

John: She's got 3 great entrances this year. 

Amy: Yeah, she does.

John: One I'm not gonna talk about. 

Amy: Cause you haven't seen it yet.

John: You haven’t seen it yet. But the Annie Croy entrance in the season opener was one of my favorite Gina bits, and then that.

Dean: Fabulous. Gina absolutely brought her A game this season.

John: And yup, this is our double just whipping through this.

Amy: That was me.

John: That was you? I forgot about that.

[Laughter]

Amy: It's a secret skill. I don’t like to talk about it.

John: And that's the thing, that was footage of the gymnast whipping through those maneuvers with Beth popping up. The special effects people had to put the lasers through those moves to coordinate with- you know, ordinarily, you build these shots incredibly carefully. It was like, ‘No, here's the footage. Make it work.’

Dean: I love this old school crank.

John: ‘Can't hack a classic.’

[Laughter]

Amy: More competence porn.

John: More competence porn. Hardison- the staff will tell you the first year we had Christmas together, I got them all wind up radios and flashlights. 

Amy: Yes.

John: I'm a big believer in emergency preparedness for the apocalypse.

Amy: He cares! He cares about us. 

John: You mock.

Amy: Wants us to live through the world ending.

John: Well, you know. I play a lot of Left 4 Dead. I want to make sure my crew’s ready.

Amy: Alright, cool.

Dean: I love that - Parker not quite good at acting yet.

John: No. This is key, Parker can't do a long con. She can maintain it for maybe 4-5 minutes before her inability to mimic humans breaks down. And there we go.

Amy: By the way, this episode totally screwed my- the way I do story telling now, because I'm thinking as the criminal all the time.

John: Yeah.

[Laughter]

Amy: Like, it's terrible. ‘How would I break into an auction house? Well to control the motion sensors-’

Dean: I love this beat right here.

John: Yeah.

Dean: Like, ‘Ahh, screw the fight.’

[Laughter]

John: Well he knows he's won by this point, so it's just really- 

Dean: And she's so turned on by the fact that he did, cause no one else has ever beaten her.

John: Yeah, that was a lot of fun, was the idea that people- it's, again, you respect someone who’s competent. And the hand- yeah the little look after the handcuff-

Amy: Wow.

John: He actually looks a little scared there.

Amy: I know, I know.

John: He's like, ‘I got you! Oh wait, what did I get?’

Amy: ‘Is it over?’

John: This is nice.

Dean: In the original longer version, they originally kissed and then fell out of frame.

John: I missed that! I missed the fact that they banged out a quickie during the middle of the con.

Amy: Uh, no.

John: Alright, fine. By the way, Christian loves the badge on the chain. Anytime he can have the badge on a chain, he’s the happiest man alive. And Hardison-

Dean: A little bit of improv-ing by Aldis Hodge here.

Amy: Indeed.

John: Aldis- and again, this pops up in the next episode, Hardison always goes a little too far. He's never able to quite control the- he’s never able to get out without pushing it too far.

Amy: Are you saying that's going to catch up to him at some point?

John: That will catch up to him. The very next episode matter of fact. And yeah, this was a lot of fun driving police cars around Portland at six o’clock in the morning.

Amy: I'm sure no one was alarmed.

Dean: Now young filmmakers, that little move there is to get on the other side of the line.

Amy: Oh yes.

John: What was that?

Dean: So we- after we established them coming out of the building the camera slowly tracks over to the other shoulder on both sides, so now we're on the opposite side of the line and all of their looks have now reversed from the previous scene.

John: You and your looks.

[Laughter]

Dean: But this allowed us to now do our car gag, because we couldn’t really blow up a car in this location.

John: At two o’clock in the morning.

Dean: So we had to whip-pan off of a look to a parked car, then later we blew up a model car and replaced it.

Amy: We did two miniature explosions.

John: I love this reveal. I love this look. It’s like, ahhh, it's like Christmas.

Dean: Bingo.

John: Yeah.

Amy: Always knew you were evil, Wil Wheaton.

Dean: And now the evil speech of evil.

Amy: The evil speech of evil!

John: The evil speech of evil! A crucial part of the- well, this isn't really an evil speech of evil. The evil speech of evil is usually when they are-

Amy: Yeah, it’s the evil griping of evil.

John: The evil speech of evil is just: define your behavior. He's straight up monologuing here.

Dean: This is a little bit more of the, ‘I would’ve gotten away if it weren’t for you meddling kids.’

John: Yes, exactly.

Amy: Are you saying this is a Scooby Doo?

John: In the original version of this, he pulls off the Wil Wheaton mask only to reveal he's still Wil Wheaton.

[Laughter]

John: But he wears a Wil Wheaton mask. You know what? We should've called Wil for this.

Amy: Oh my god, why didn’t we do that? Now we gotta record it again.

John: I know. Maybe- You know what? We’ll do one on iTunes with him.

Amy: We'll do a special one.

John: And we may be playing Dungeons and Dragons while we actually do the commentary. This is great now. This is tough. And talk about- we had a couple different endings for this episode in this particular scene.

Amy: Yes.

John: Go ahead.

Amy: I don't remember them, I just remember there were multiple endings. [Laughs]

John: We actually, for a couple different versions of the outline, had him lose. Had Nate and the guys lose.

Amy: Oh, that’s right.

John: And then our team conned them about the painting. And the moral was basically our team kinda sitting around, pissed off they lost, but they were still a family while the other team broke up. And it just didn't feel-

Dean: Wasn't satisfying.

John: It was one of those good writer beats- and that's why Dean’s actually a very valuable producing partner, because he's all heart. 

[Laughter]

John: Seriously man, he’s- and he’s, ‘I don't feel it.’

Amy: And we have none.

John: And we have none, because we’re writers and our blackened little hearts are shriveled away.

Amy: And our dark souls.

John: It's very easy when you're writing a con and heist show to get a little too clever for your own good.

Amy: It’s true.

John: And Dean’s a very good barometer on, ‘You know, do I really-? Am I gonna be happy with this?’ And you know, he’s right.

Dean: I like a little fromage.

Amy: Well what were the reasons-?

John: No, not fromage, but just, you know-

Amy: I think one of the reasons we were gonna have them losing was that this was gonna be episode three or four, and then we had the wild thought that we would bring the evil team back for episode seven.

John: Yes.

Amy: And sort of do, you know, ‘We lost the first one, but we won the second one.’

Dean: There's the recall of your Emily story.

John: Yes, that's right, the little go to the dance with. No it's- oh and that's great.

Dean: Again, that was Apollo who came up with that idea. 

John: Yeah, that they're picking-

Dean: A lockpicking race.

John: And also Beth tossing the lockpick into the air and catching it? After a week with Apollo, she’d really gotten disgustingly good. I think they're actually picking there.

Amy: Well Apollo has gone on record as saying Beth can actually be a professional pickpocket if she wanted to.

John: She's got soft hands.

Dean: And this is, again, one of those scenes where Christian shows you how good he is at comedy. How subtle he is when he realizes she may be the person who actually shot him.

Amy: Look at that look!

[Laughter]

John: Yeah. 

Amy: His eyes widen just like a millimeter, but-

John: Yeah. And that was an improv, I think. ‘Y’all nasty’. He's supposed to just look at it. 

Amy: That’s awesome.

John: And Griffin doing the Nate Ford, ‘I'm an honest man’ speech here, incredibly uncomfortably!

Dean: Well, we always want the villain to suffer and this is how he suffers.

John: He’s just sweating it out.

Amy: He's getting more satisfaction out of watching Griffin Dunne lose than he is from getting the painting back to the clients.

John: Which is something wrong.

Amy: Yes, that's not right.

John: Sophie's actually the moral center of this scene.

Amy: This is the episode where they, in a way, sort of switch roles. She becomes the honest thief, and he becomes-

John: They were a lovely couple. God, these actors were nice.

Dean: Just amazing local actors.

John: No, this was a lot of fun. And then, again, giving him just enough rope to hang himself with. And making sure that he's pissed off enough to come back in season three.

Dean: The other part of this scene I like is, it really shows how far Sophie has come, that she’s actually not just doing this, she’s actually, really- she’s drank the kool aid by now. She really believes in what they're doing. 

John: To a little bit more than Nate at this point.

Amy: Yeah.

John: Yeah. Which, you know, and that- we really took the, ‘You killed Sophie Deaveraux.’ And the funeral was a late addition; that wasn't in the first outline.

Dean: Yeah.

Amy: No, it wasn't. That was something that we added later. 

John: Yeah it was. 

Amy: But that was an element of knowing we were gonna lose Gina and trying to set up an awesome departure.

John: Yup. And that bomb thing wound up being really- Because originally- it was originally a sort of investigatory clue path and then when we lose Gina it's like, alright let's scare the audience a little here.

Dean: How did you come up with this bit of how they tracked-?

John: I think that was some geek bullshit I had in the notebook, I’m fairly sure. Whenever it’s some tiny minutiae of how phones work, it’s you know-

Amy: Good old GPS.

John: Yeah well, you know what? I think at the time there were some protests about the fact that you couldn't turn off the GPS tracking in your phone, and it was- they were talking about a lot in England you being able to do that, so that just kinda stuck.

Amy: Well I imagine all this would-

Dean: There's Chase!

Amy: See, yeah, there's Chase. I knew I saw him at some point.

John:  Is this-? Yeah, here we go. All these great local actors.

Dean: And I love the security guard; this woman is fabulous.

Amy: So much personality, only a few lines.

John: And again, this is one of those things where you are trying to come up with a really clever way to screw him and then you suddenly realize, no, it’s just a box full of paintings; there's nothing really subtle about this. You’re just going to jail forever.

Dean: But in a way, this is what makes it work. ‘This is the real one.’

John: We had a couple of different notes, too.

Amy: He lost by winning. Cause what he wanted was the paintings, and we gave him the paintings, but that’s what did him over in the end.

John: Another rule: the villain must be brought down by their own sin. 

Dean: Now this, for me, is my favorite scene for a number of reasons. 

John: It’s a good scene.

Dean: First of all, just the lighting. We got this at the perfect time of day.

John: Yeah, how'd we get the lighting Dean?

[Laughter]

Dean: We accidentally went over that day and somehow went into-

Amy: Oh accidentally?

John: Oh did the director somehow go over in the morning, so we just happened to be shooting at the magic hour?

Dean: It was odd how that worked out.

Amy: Oh interesting.

Dean: That we just happened to be in magic hour to shoot the romantic scene.

Amy: That is so funny.

John: What I love is the fact that you’d never work again as a director for boning your producer that bad, except you’re the producer?

[Laughter]

John: No, this scene is stunning.

Dean: They both knocked it out of the park on this day. And for me, it's weird to say it because I directed the episode, but this is the best almost-kiss I’d ever seen before. And it's really the way they did it.

John: Yeah. This was another one where it was like, set up the cameras, let the actors work.

Dean: This was also a callback to what happened in the episode at the school, because-

Amy: Fairy Godparents.

John: Yeah.

Dean: Cause in the Fairy Godparents that she had never really been honest. 

John: Exactly.

Dean: And here she realizes she doesn't know who she is anymore because she's been so many other people for so long.

Amy: She got dumped because she wasn't being truthful with her boyfriend, and she actually recited all the names of her aliases, and this is sort of the callback to her having to bury them in order to move on.

John: Yeah, she's more attached to fake people than real people and it’s caught up with her. And this is the moment where Sophie Deaveraux becomes a better human being than Nate Ford.

Dean: And that red coat was totally Gina.

John: That was Gina. That's right, she came in with that she and Nadine went hunting for that. This is a great almost kiss.

Dean: Ow! Ow!

John: This was an Italian over. This is- what's that terminology?

Dean: It’s a French over. Rather than being in the front of them, you're over their backs and then this walk away.

Amy: The Italian over is you're drinking wine while you’re doing it.

John: And this walkaway was fantastic with that light right there!

Amy: Through the trees! It's so pretty.

John: You knew what scene was good when we were shooting it because I was watching it on the monitor and I turned around and all the local PA’s were standing behind us watching the scene and two of the girls were crying.

Dean: Yeah. It was awesome.

John: You just really nailed it. And that was going to be the summer season ender, 207, and wound up being still a great send off for that character. And really one of the best episodes of the two years I gotta say.

Amy: Yup, it's one of my favorites for sure.

Dean: For me it's almost like the two part season finale of one, season one, done in one episode.

Amy: Yeah, exactly.

Dean: So thank you for watching.

John: Thank you for watching.

Amy: Thanks everybody!

[xlady-saya]

better than a night light [fic]

Relationships: andrew minyard/neil josten

Summary: Neil hasn’t had the chance to examine the feeling of fear in a long time. He’s all too familiar with it though; from the nightmares, to the memories of a cold basement floor, he knows the feeling like the back of his hand.

But this fear is new, loaded with ridiculousness and a complete lack of reason. It’s nothing more than pixels on a screen, far away theories that can’t hurt him like his past can.

Maybe that’s why he’s beginning to not mind it as much. It doesn’t hurt that Andrew is also there to hold him through it.

Tags: neil is a scaredy cat, fluff, fluff and humor, the monsters watch alien movies

Read on ao3!

The movie poster Nicky keeps shoving in Neil's face doesn't exactly do much in terms of persuasion.

Neil stares at the bold graphics, at the text of the title that drips as if it’s oozing blood. It's got an almost static quality to it, not original, but not trying too hard to be. It's an older movie, that much is clear, so not exactly Nicky's usual taste. There's nothing there to tell him about the plot, just a few shadows and a stark silhouette standing in the center. Neil stares at the poster on Nicky's phone, then at Nicky's expectant expression, and then back.

Surely there has to be some kind of clue to tell him what this is all supposed to mean, but he's not seeing it.

Nicky does his best to show Neil a few more posters from the same movie, some restyled and revamped for the modern era, but...

Nothing.

"For fuck's sake," Nicky huffs, putting his phone away. "It's a classic horror movie, Neil, and we're watching it tonight."

Oh. Neil's not sure why he had to know that.

It's never up to him to pick the movies for movie night, mostly because most do nothing for him or bore him to tears altogether. Watching them with Andrew is typically the only time he bothers to pay attention, and that's for the commentary about the stupid characters.

Nicky is the opposite.

He and Allison fight over the films every Friday night like it's a ritual, but on the rare occasions the upperclassman are busy, Nicky takes over and tries his best to drag Neil into it too. A seasoned movie buff, he's made it his mission to find a movie genre Neil actually likes. Neil's attempts to convince him otherwise have fallen on deaf ears.

After weeks of action spy movies and no luck, Nicky's obviously decided to up his game by switching to a new theme altogether.

Neil's not sure what this will do, though. The horror movies Nicky has picked in the past only served to annoy Neil or make him laugh with their horrible effects and impractical plot points. Nicky had still labeled that as progress.

Already, Neil is rolling his eyes. Neil has dealt with real horrors; ghosts and poltergeists aren’t what haunt him. He's only seen one or two slasher films with the team, but those were just nonsensical.

It's not something he enjoys thinking about, but it's hard to be afraid of being sliced open by some fictional asshole in a mask when his childhood already made him numb to the feeling of a blade.

As if sensing the underlying truth behind Neil's annoyance, Andrew makes his presence known with a loud thump of his soda can against the counter.

Nicky jumps, but Neil turns on instinct, a small smile on his face. They have new barstools, and he swears they're a little taller than the other ones. Andrew's legs swing, almost carefree in nature, and Neil averts his eyes at the glare he receives for staring.

"I said no horror movies," Andrew says finally, flicking another page of his novel over. It's for a class, Neil notes, and beams a little brighter. Part of their pact; if Neil has to do better in school, Andrew has to start trying to, too.

With some encouragement...it wasn't a hard compromise to make.

"Technically, you said no slasher movies," Nicky says, smirking at the loophole. Andrew stares, thoroughly unamused, and Neil blinks between them. He hadn't known about that. He glances back over to find Andrew already looking at him, resignation clear on his face. It's a common expression from the beginning of their this—less rare now, but just as endearing in Neil's mind.

It's Andrew's 'you caught me caring about you, and I hate that because it's not hard' look.

Neil hops up to sit on the counter, and Andrew's gaze flicks down to his knee as if debating resting his chin on top of it.

"You don't need to baby me, those movies don't affect me," Neil says with a fond smile. It's the truth; he's not sure why, but the masked villains and their carving knives just seem tacky to him at best. He understands Andrew's reasoning though, and appreciates it more than he can say.

Andrew would never think of him as weak, and Neil can handle most things no matter how painfully they might stir up old memories. Regardless, Andrew will spare him if he can.

The look of acknowledgement passes between them, and Andrew nods.

Then: "Even still, they're bad," Andrew says, aiming the statement at Nicky. "I refuse to suffer through them."

Aaron, who up until this point has been a silent bystander on the couch, grunts an affirmative. Kevin's got his headphones in, not even listening.

"Killjoys," Nicky mutters, clutching his phone tight to his chest. He points an accusatory finger right at Andrew, and keeps it there in challenge. "You might like it too, if you would just give it a chance!"

Andrew, highly unconvinced, raises a brow at Neil. The blond and Nicky are a lot better at having actual conversations without Neil now, to the point where Neil wouldn't even call Nicky afraid of Andrew anymore. Still...looks like this is not a case Andrew has the energy to make.

Neil smiles, all too smug.

"I thought you said horror movies were overrated?" he asks Nicky, grin just the right amount of shit-eating. "And by overrated, you meant you're super scared of them and won't be able to sleep for days."

"First of all, Neil, fuck you," Nicky says without hesitation. Aaron snorts in the background. Unwilling to be defeated, Nicky holds up his hand, counting off the reasons. "Second of all, this one is different! It's an alien movie, and those don't scare me as much. I mean, they're super impractical!"

That's what's super impractical?

Neil rolls his eyes. Their whole lives are impractical. Ha.

But ah, Neil realizes. Maybe that's the reason for the weird poster silhouette. Aliens. He'd almost prefer a slasher film. He crosses his arms, blowing his overgrown bangs out of his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure Jackson with his goalie mask is just as realistic."

The room goes silent, and Neil isn't too prideful when it comes to pop culture. It's clear he fucked that up. Nicky blinks at him, and even Aaron is confused enough to turn around and lean over the side of the couch.

Neil blinks back, combing his brain for the revision. Nothing.

Andrew sighs below him, long and suffering, and this time he really does put his chin on Neil's knee. He glares a hole into Neil's abdomen, but Neil suspects it's mostly self directed.

"I think he means Jason," Andrew says, closing his eyes to ground himself. Neil's always been quite impressed with his self-control. "He's just trying to provoke me."

Oh, yeah. That prick.

A small chorus of realization goes through the room as Neil smirks down at his boyfriend.

Nicky squints. "Huh? Provoke you how?"

"Don't ask about their weird flirting," Aaron interrupts, making a slicing motion over his throat. Then, after a beat, he shoots a glare at his brother, who actually meets it for once. "Though for the record, you deserve to have a thing for morons."

Hey.

"That time, I really thought his name was Jackson," Neil defends, not caring that he just exposed how sometimes he will say the wrong shit on purpose just to get Andrew...in a mood. Aaron gags, and Neil is quite done with the conversation.

He squeezes Andrew's earlobe because, well...it's right there.

Nicky throws his hands up. "Oh my god, who cares! Neil, the point is that yes, a serial killer terrorizing a summer camp? Unlikely. But if someone were inclined, they could. And at minimum, slasher movies are scary because I could actually be stabbed on any given day."

"The chances of you running into a slasher are still pretty low," Neil tries, and Nicky gives him one of those looks like he's missed the point entirely.

"I'm talking about Andrew."

Ah.

"That's fair," Andrew says, eyes closing once more as Neil kneads his ear gently.

Done with the lot of them, Nicky shows Neil the button to rent the movie on his account, and rebelliously presses it. As if that somehow traps Neil in this apartment. Like he can't just leave.

The sad thing is that he won't.

Even without the upperclassman to join them tonight, this is his family—despite all their shitty taste.

"Your point?" Neil asks, though he's fully resigned at this point.

"So, alien movies are way cooler than anything else. Plus, the effects in this one are practical," Nicky says, and Neil tilts his head. Instead of bewildered, Nicky's excitement only grows. "You know, none of that cheap computer crap. You'll see, you'll love it."

Nicky squeals lightly as he goes to make snacks, dropping a few dishes in the process. It's a chorus of curses and clanging that Neil is all too used to, and Andrew barely flinches from it. It's hard to mind anything with Andrew's head in his lap and Neil's hands moving into his hair.

Neil stares over at the television, and sees his own annoyed expression staring back from the void.

Love it, will he?

Yeah, whatever you say.

--

They're about thirty minutes into the movie when Neil realizes there's a problem.

Nicky, for effect, has turned out all the lights, and the television illuminates the whole room despite its dark ambience. Neil's perfectly prepared to not pay attention, especially when the movie starts off slow and without any of the promised aliens. Nicky scolds him for his impatience, and things gradually start to get more suspicious between the characters on screen.

Neil's not bored out of his mind, but he's yet to see the full appeal. Because it's his spot, he curls up into Andrew’s side, sharing the bag of plain gummy worms between them since Neil hates the sour ones. Neil's more fixated on that at first; sometimes if they grab the same one on accident, they'll start the contest of pulling the poor worm and stretching the gelatin until it snaps. So far, Neil has won the longest piece two out of three times.

Then, in a shocking twist, the alien shows up.

Nicky was right about the practical effects. It's a grotesque creature, animatronic and padded with a fleshy substance that looks like bile. Its limbs are coated in it, sticky and disproportionate to its thin, skeletal body. Neil can see every disgusting ridge, and grimaces at the bubbles of flesh and pus that the effects team coated it with. After a while, he stops viewing it as a product of humans, as a robot. He starts seeing it as just the creature, in all its vileness. Random limbs and appendages shoot out from it, impaling some of the unlucky side characters, and the squelching sounds make Neil want to vomit.

Neil's throat begins to feel tight, and he's not sure why.

Throughout the next fifteen minutes, the creature starts its ruthless hunt after the team of scientists which make up the main cast. Only when it disappears does the audience realize the creature can shapeshift—that it's among them, somewhere on the base.

At first, Neil thinks he might have to go to the hospital. His pulse is fast, and he's sweating a little. It's weird, and he finds himself trying to calm down his own breathing. His muscles aren't usually this tense, and there's a nausea-inducing lump in his stomach, swimming around like the goop on screen. Maybe he's sick, maybe he ate some undercooked meat for dinner. That has to be it. He tries his best to stretch out, but his ankle hits Kevin's fancy metal flask, and Neil nearly jumps out of his skin from the cold when it coincides with a character being ripped in half on screen.

"Damn, that was pretty cool," Aaron concedes from his beanbag, watching the characters rush to safety from the gore they just witnessed. Even Kevin is invested, though he's still occasionally checking Exy stats on his phone. The creature is gone again all too soon, blending in, and the scientists begin to arm themselves against one another. Nicky looks over at Aaron gleefully, triumphant for his good choice.

At this point, Neil hates to admit he's fully invested. The characters in the movie have started to suspect one another, and the focus has shifted from the gore and the alien’s origin over to pure paranoia. It does a remarkably good job of capturing that feeling—one Neil knows all too well. Neil begins to suspect some of the characters too, even the main protagonist. The theories run through his head, but the film leaves everything as vague as can be.

There's a blanket of dread over him he's never felt before, because it's not real. There's no imminent danger to his person or his family, but he wonders what he'd be feeling if he were in this situation. The idea of imposters, walking around and having no way of telling them apart from your friends, from a human...

It takes Neil awhile, perhaps a little too long given his acquaintance with the emotion, to understand the tension in his body is fear.

He's afraid.

And isn't fear a strange thing?

He tries to remember fear, and it's not hard. It's always cold, piercing. It narrows down the world so that the fear is all that exists, along with the impending doom of the consequences that come with it. For him, fear has always eventually had a result. His fear was always well-founded. But this is nothing like that fear. Real, genuine, valid fear. This is not being threatened by his mom's scowl from across the room, or being on the basement floor, seconds from death. This is a queasy, unrealistic fear. One he can't get rid of, as much as he knows it shouldn't exist. There's nothing on the horizon, nothing coming to get them.

It's a lot of what-ifs and how-comes.

Neil hates it.

He can't look away as the characters all perish, eaten alive in part by the alien, but mostly by their own suspicion. In the end, the discord between them kills them all, and the ending hints heavily at the creature's survival and spread into the outside world.

Maybe here.

Neil scoffs at his own ridiculousness, rolling his eyes. That would never happen. He knows that, it's just—

"So?" Nicky says right in his face, and Neil jumps. Luckily, no one notices, and Andrew has already moved to switch the television off. Good. He surely would've felt the jump of Neil's body.

"So?" Neil parrots, unable to keep up. He keeps looking out the dorm windows, watching the darkness for any sign of life beyond it.

"Did you like it, Neil?" Kevin asks, turning around from his perch on the floor. He's also been weirdly committed to finding things for them to enjoy outside of Exy. Neil has a feeling that's mostly Thea's and therapy's doing, an attempt to get them some distance from the harsh Raven routines of old.

Kevin's attempt at getting them into trivia had been a disaster, and he'd abandoned it quickly.

Neil swallows the lump in his throat, eyes tracking Andrew to keep himself grounded. Aliens or no aliens, the sight of Andrew is a relaxant that's fifty times stronger.

Still, all he manages is a small: "It was okay."

It's a compliment coming from him, since his standard response is to shrug whenever any credits roll, and Nicky heads off to shower for bed with an extra lightness in his step.

Neil is not so fortunate.

An hour later, they're all turning in. Kevin has already passed out while Nicky takes his time in the bathroom with his twenty minute skincare routine. Neil had done everything in his power to not be alone once the lights began to go out. He's lucky his proximity to Andrew isn't unusual, but he keeps a few steps of distance just to throw off any suspicion the blond might have about why his boyfriend’s clinginess is off the charts.

The night sky is still pitch black through the windows, and any passing noise has Neil turning around and checking on his family critically. No, no—if Kevin were a creature, he wouldn't be snoring so loud.

Right?

He feels like a child, and does his best to go about his business without reading into everything so much. Even still, he hops onto the bed so he doesn't have to stand in front of the bottom of the bunk for too long. Something could grab his feet.

Andrew, per routine, wraps his arm around Neil's midsection to pull him closer, not yet aware of what's happening. Neil usually delights in this each time it happens, though he's certainly used to it by now. The path to sharing a bed had been a cautious one, and spooning even more so, but now he can't imagine sleeping without being cocooned like this.

Tonight, however, there's a problem.

Neil stiffens when Andrew moves to scoot him closer, a stark contrast to how he usually relaxes all his muscles. It's kinda fun when Andrew drags him. Andrew pauses, regarding Neil curiously, and Neil's dry throat seems to close up even more. The dread in his veins obviously isn't apparent, but it feels that way. Paling internally, Neil says, "I want a glass of water."

He really wants a glass of water. Fuck.

But is it worth it? Is he willing to die for a glass of water? He can make it until morning. If he were smart, he would've thought about this when everyone was still in the living room and he had access to knives to defend himself.

Andrew, calm as ever, concedes with a short nod. He removes his hand and waits for Neil to get up, and that's when Neil can't hide it anymore.

See, he doesn't move. Neil just lies there, staring up at the ceiling, and feels Andrew's eyes grow more and more critical with each passing second. Neil is torn. Does he get up despite his fear to preserve his dignity? Andrew of all people deserves to know when Neil has none to spare. Neil doesn't hide anything from Andrew, no matter how ridiculous.

The truth is, he'd love nothing more than to stay here on this bed with Andrew, where it's at least kind of safe. But, if he thinks more critically, he'll never get over this fear if he doesn't venture out into the dark common area to get his goddamn water.

Also, he's thirsty.

What to do, what to do.

At this point Neil begins to squirm, his gaze flicking over to the open bedroom door. It's black on the other side, inviting him and his imagination to wreak havoc.

Humans can survive a few days without water.

The whole time, Andrew doesn't stop staring at him, and Neil winces when he feels a gentle tap against his collarbone.

He's hesitated too long to keep the secret now. Better get it over with.

"Neil."

"Uh. Y-yes?"

"Look at me," Andrew says, and Neil can't disobey a request like that. Andrew's sleepy voice is gravely and soothing, like enticing smoke from a cigarette, and Neil follows it with all his senses. He turns over, then tenses up. Now his back is to the door. Can't have that.

He goes back to lying flat, and turns his head to send Andrew a desperate look.

It's stupid, it's pathetic. But...

"It's dark." That’s all he says.

Andrew's brows knit together, searching for the truth under that statement. "It's one in the morning."

Oh, but I'm the smart mouth.

Neil glares, and jumps when Nicky drops something in the bathroom. Neil waits for a sign of movement, and breathes a sigh of relief when Nicky's routine resumes.

Andrew sends him another look, no doubt already piecing it all together, and Neil huffs to himself.

"Asshole," he says, and picks at the thread of their blanket with his finger. He tries not to think of the aliens splitting open. Quietly, he admits: "The creature in the movie could see better in the dark."

It should be helpful to say it aloud, but it's not. It should convince Neil he's being truly unreasonable, that the odds of something otherworldly coming to target him are slim. He should be more worried about real killers coming for him on any given day.

But here he is, still afraid.

Andrew, in his own Andrew way, actually looks surprised. Something swims across his features that Neil has seen before, but can't pinpoint in the moment due to his own shame. He groans, turning away.

"Shut up, I know, forget it, I'm—"

A hand comes out to grab his chin, and Andrew turns Neil's face back towards him in one firm motion. Okay, now Neil definitely knows there's something in that look, and it renders him speechless for a moment.

"You're afraid." He swears he sees the corner of Andrew's mouth twitch, and he's so fixated on it that the truth comes easily.

"Yes."

"Of the...aliens. From the movie?"

Ah, but when put that way...

Neil groans again, pouting slightly. It's hard for Andrew to ruin anything for Neil, but it's difficult to stare fondly at one's boyfriend when he's trying to wring the embarrassing truth out of you. "Yes! I don't know why, okay?"

Andrew just nods, not judging. Not yet. Taking that into account, he taps Neil's chin a few times, maybe to the beat of invisible cogs moving in his head. Then he pauses, and gives Neil's earlobe a tug. Because...it's there. "Nicky said aliens are impractical. They aren't real. You know this, I assume."

Neil glares, but doesn't refute the statement. He's familiar with Andrew's process of retracing their steps, hypothetically. Trying to understand where the fear came from, how to best help Neil push it aside.

"Neil, confirm these things for me," Andrew says, and Neil nods, counting the freckles that dance over Andrew's nose. "You have dealt with members of a deadly mafia family."

Neil, because he's a shit, takes time to think about it. It's worth it when Andrew huffs.

Neil nods. "That is true."

"You are arguably more capable than me when it comes to killing someone," Andrew points out, and Neil does his best to ignore the spark of heat in Andrew's voice from that knowledge. "In fact, you've probably killed many people without remorse."

Hm. Okay.

"Mhm." Neil hums, and while he sees where this is going...

"You could potentially be Jackson, minus the hockey mask," Andrew finishes, and Neil is only somewhat insulted. What does he want with a summer camp?

Feigning stupidity this time, Neil squints. "Wasn't he immortal?"

"Neil."

Neil's laughter dissolves into a desperate whine, and he throws his hands behind him, hitting the headboard. Dammit. "Just—I know it makes no sense," he huffs. He scrambles up to a sitting position, an explanation on the tip of his tongue, and Andrew follows him calmly. "I know they're not real but...I think that's the problem. It's an unknown. I'm familiar with killers, with knives on my skin."

Neil almost feels guilty when he mentions it; Andrew accepts all his scars and experiences, but it doesn't mean he likes that they happened. They can't change the past, but the idea of either of them being hurt never fails to put a little pit of anger in their guts. He sees it bloom in Andrew's right then, and Neil smiles gently to quell it. It's not about that right now.

"But this is so removed from any of that," Neil explains, laughing at himself. It's sort of amusing if he thinks about it—that he’s made it to the point where he has the luxury of being afraid of such things, but he still doesn't feel relief. "I know it should be stupid and ridiculous. But that's probably why it bothers me. I mean, okay, what do we really know about aliens anyways? Nothing! No road map, no weapons. We're completely unprepared."

And...his explanation goes off the rails just like that.

Neil thinks he has a good point though. Like...who is really to say aliens don't exist? And if they do, they're all pretty much fucked. Who wouldn't be afraid?

Andrew only stares at him.

At the expression of disbelief, Neil whines and does his best to backtrack, but Andrew is having no more of it. Andrew just lays back down, hands covering his face.

It's a novel reaction, considering this is Andrew. He looks so beside himself, unable to process whatever is going on in his head, but not in the bad, overwhelmed way he might be used to. Neil leans over him, and artfully pokes Andrew between the eyebrows.

"Andrew?"

His boyfriend sighs. "I don't ever know what to do with you," he concedes, removing his hands so Neil can see his pissy expression. "Alien movies. It's goddamn alien movies."

Neil's not sure what to make of that, but even in the dimness of their room he can see the reluctant fondness in Andrew's face, poorly concealed behind a facade of neutral indifference. That, and the tips of his ears look a little red.

Neil's confused as hell before he realizes what it must be. He perks up, fear momentarily put on pause. "Oh...oh, you like this," he observes, not smug, just factual. Andrew glares. "You think it's—uh..."

Not hot, at least Neil doesn't think so. But—

"The word you're probably looking for is cute." Andrew grimaces when he says it, like it's a crime for the word to come out of his mouth. If Neil's being honest, he's surprised too. Not that Andrew thinks it, but that he actually said it. Hm. That's new. Neil likes it. He always insisted to Andrew that he didn't have to try harder at verbal affection just for Neil's sake, not if he didn't want to.

Clearly, part of him does.

Andrew glares at Neil's small smile, pushing his face away. "And you're wrong, so don't read into it."

Neil ignores that advice completely. "Oh, okay. So you think it's cute," he repeats, and mulls that over in his head.

"I just said—"

"Wait, why?" Neil asks, suddenly offended. Here he is trying to tell Andrew his alien attack plan, and the blond thinks the severity of the situation is cute. "Does my terror mean nothing to you?"

"Not in this case," Andrew admits, and this time there's clearly a small smile threatening to break the mask. Neil tries (pettily and unsuccessfully) to not let it affect him. "Now quit it, and go get your water."

Shit.

The fucking water.

The source of his woes comes back as a painful reminder in the form of his parched throat, scratchier now from all the discussion.

Noticing Neil's stricken face, Andrew wordlessly gets up with him, pulling him along to the edge of the bedroom so Neil can't talk himself out of it. Flicking on the light for the living area, Andrew pushes Neil out in front of him, a silent nudge to hurry up.

The room definitely looks a lot less sinister like this, but Neil's brain is reluctant to let him relax. He walks quickly and stiffly into the kitchen, turning back halfway to make sure that yes, Andrew is watching him.

"I'm here," the blond says, despite the roll of his eyes.

Neil practically runs to get his water, moving back to Andrew faster than the speed of light. As absurd as Andrew finds it, he dutifully waits for Neil to step fully back into the light of the bedroom before turning off the living room light again, and offers to take Neil's glass back when he finishes. Unwilling to lose Andrew by making him go alone, Neil takes his turn watching from the door.

Andrew looks back—not out of fear, but just to see the way Neil tracks his every move, wary of the surroundings. Something soft escapes Andrew's mouth, a vulnerable sound Neil swallows when he gets back into their bed.

He still can't fall asleep, but at least Andrew holds him a little tighter that night, a silent reminder that Neil's not alone in the darkness.

Neil's entire being burns with embarrassment, and he can't wait for a few days to pass so his brain will forget the movie entirely.

At least then the fear in his veins will be but a lingering memory, teasing fuel for Andrew at most.

--

Except, per routine, Andrew is a giant bastard.

"We're watching this tonight," he says a week later, throwing a library DVD into Nicky's lap.

Neil doesn't think much of it as he finishes the last of his math problems at his desk, kicking his legs happily since this means he'll be done with homework and his kissing ban will be lifted.

Nicky's voice has all his expectations shriveling up and exploding like alien guts. "Aliens again?"

Neil's head snaps up to meet Andrew's gaze across the room, betrayal lining his face. The DVD cover Nicky is looking at is old school again, another classic Neil assumes. It's less detailed than the first one, with nothing but a green, glowing egg on the front.

Hell no, Neil thinks, and glances back at Andrew with a desperate look in his eyes. Maybe it's a joke.

But Andrew's sense of humor is cruel.

"It wasn't awful," Andrew answers Nicky while looking right at Neil. There's nothing amused or challenging in his features, but Neil still senses it. Andrew has weighed Neil's fear, has no doubt picked it apart and tried to decide whether or not that fear should be quelled, or if it's fair game to prod.

The conclusion is clear.

"Awesome!" Nicky shouts, unaware of the turmoil between the two of them. "Finally, we found something you don't tune out completely."

"I'll make the snacks," Aaron says, and Kevin actually seems okay with the selection. He shoots them both a weird look—which, given the intensity of Neil's stare, is appropriate. However, living with them has given Kevin enough insight to know when and when not to intervene. He walks past them, as he should.

When they're actually getting settled in to watch the damn film, Neil has switched tactics. He's refusing to meet Andrew's gaze, foot tapping impatiently against their stained carpet. As peeved as he is, the fear is starting to outweigh it. What if this movie is worse? Is he ready for another night wondering if aliens are going to come absorb him into some hybrid monster?

What the fuck does the egg mean? Aliens lay eggs?!

Neil refuses to sit by Andrew at first, and Andrew's legs are spread in such a way that his lap is wide open and inviting.

It's difficult to resist.

Eventually, Andrew sighs, and slouches into the couch a little more, leaving a perfect Neil-sized spot next to him.

"You're going to sit over there by yourself?" Andrew asks. With the rest of the group out of earshot, he adds lowly: "Aliens pick off the stragglers first."

Neil's glare would melt flesh from bone if it wasn’t directed at Andrew. The blond is unaffected by Neil's threats, though there's definitely power behind them. Just...never towards him.

An unfortunate fact, but one Neil would never betray.

Sulking, he climbs up onto the couch and fits himself snuggly into Andrew's side, head on his chest. Completing the dance, Andrew manhandles Neil to rest more comfortably against him, and Neil ignores the smugness radiating off the blond.

When Aaron walks in, he regards them suspiciously. Neil hates him for smiling that knowing, shit eating little grin once the realization hits him.

Fuck Aaron. Neil knows he's afraid of possession movies. He better be ready.

"This one is especially gross," Aaron says, offhand, but aimed at Neil entirely. "I've seen it."

Neil stares into the television again, done with all of them, and hopes his brain is over it. He hopes this movie is as boring as it can be. "Let's get this shit over with."

And they do. But no, the movie is not boring.

This film is arguably worse than the one they watched last weekend. The aliens are somehow grosser, with tar-like skin and oozing orifices. Even worse, they're more parasitic than the other aliens, and extremely hard for these idiot characters to kill. Neil sees one of the alien babies jump down someone's throat and has to look away.

He supposes it's too late to ask how he got here, to wonder why he can't get over it and understand none of it is real.

But then again, what does he know about the universe?

Neil's glad everyone else is too into the film to notice him burying himself further into Andrew's chest, eyes glued to the screen reluctantly. That's the problem with fear—it takes hold of him. He's not one of those people who can look away or close their eyes, so he just wrings Andrew's shirt between his hands into a wrinkly mess.

At a certain point, the alien from earlier bursts through the character's chest and makes Neil jump away from Andrew's, but the blond grabs Neil's head gently in anticipation of this (which means he's seen this shit already, the asshole) and guides it to rest over his heart. It should make it worse, the rhythmic beating, pumping in time with the chest burster's onslaught. Instead, it's grounding, as it always is, and he sighs.

He wonders if this was Andrew's plan all along, but would that make sense? Having to comfort a scared Neil can't be anything but annoying.

Later, when he's having a mug of hot chocolate with Andrew and Aaron before bed, and steadily getting grumpier with the thought of the sleepless night to come, he says as much.

Aaron just looks at him, as if he can't believe Neil exists. "You really are a moron."

And with that, he goes back to his own dorm.

Neil tries to get clarification, but Andrew only takes the mug from his hands. He avoids Neil's questioning gaze and laces their fingers together, pulling Neil into the room before the lights go out.

--

It's hard to look serious when he's lying on top of Andrew's chest, glare peaking out, but he tries.

It's weekend three of Andrew's onslaught of alien movie sequels, and luckily he's promised to back off from now on.

Still. Neil's gonna pout all he wants.

A sound from outside makes him jump, but it's just an extra hard downpour knocking against the windows. If Neil closes his eyes, he almost sees the alien claws tapping on the glass, trying to get in.

"Poor, frightened little bunny," Andrew states without any inflection or tone, but Neil can sense the teasing underneath.

"Fuck you," he says, but it's dampened by the way he leans over to close the window blinds.

It helps. A little.

"And risk the alien contamination?" Andrew adds, tugging on Neil's bangs for his attention. Like he has to; he somehow always has it, even when Neil is less than pleased. "Tell me, just what do you think is going to happen? Nothing's going to burst out of you just from watching that movie."

Neil feels his stomach flip flop from the thought of it, his heart taking the tower of terror through his body. He makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, and Andrew pulls him up by the scruff of his neck to get a better look at him.

"I still feel queasy," Neil says, a poor attempt at revenge. Andrew doesn't move away, isn't even remotely grossed out.

The blond just sighs, and rolls Neil over to the other side of the bed in a display of vulnerability. Instead of being pressed to the wall, Andrew's back is open to their room, to the world. Neil balks for a moment before he gets himself under control. They've done this a few times, so he closes his jaw. He knows he should be happy for these moments, not surprised by them. Because he knows they're not small. It's Andrew telling him something, it's Andrew giving. And that's nothing new.

Still, Andrew never has his back to the door, and it probably won't last long. Eventually they'll go back to their normal positions, but for now Andrew shields Neil from the world.

It's a silent emphasis, a promise.

Despite the dimness and the new tension in his shoulders, Andrew's gaze is like a spark to the gasoline pooling in Neil's body. "Neil, you're safe."

Yes. Deep down, that's the biggest truth of them all.

Neil sighs, and gently rolls them back over. It's his own affirmative, his own way of protecting Andrew—whether it be from real threats, or fictional ones. He slides over Andrew until he's on the edge of the bed, and is happy when the bits of tension bleed back out of Andrew. Much better.

"I know that." Neil curls up, and though his back is to the door, he doesn't turn away. It's another silent response. He's afraid, but he knows if an alien were to suddenly bust through the door...

Well, Andrew would let him know. "But I'm still...mph," he grunts, glaring at the blinds above Andrew, and this time, the edges of the blond's lips lift easily. Just for Neil to see.

"Scared?"

Neil rolls his eyes for the billionth time, mostly at himself. "Yes, Andrew, the stupid alien movies scare me. I'm glad you're enjoying it so much."

He won't lie; he expects a silent response, maybe the old 'I don't enjoy anything' just to make him laugh, because they both know it's not true.

Instead, Andrew grabs his wrist, tracing the veins there with his thumb.

"You're right," he admits, slow, as if he's considering taking it back. Neil waits with bated breath, and Andrew must ultimately decide that it's impossible to. "I am."

The blatant admission catches him off guard, and well...Andrew can be pretty cute too, when he avoids Neil's gaze like this. The blond fixates on where they're connected, tracing the scars farther up Neil's arm.

Neil hums. "Because you're a cruel otherworldly imposter, or because you know I secretly have a thing for when I amuse you?"

The master plan, all along.

At Neil's cheeky grin, Andrew rolls onto his back, questioning his existence. He slides Neil's hand over his chest, draping it across him. "You're a nuisance," he mutters, and Neil's grin softens at the edges. He still doesn't understand it all, but when Andrew's being so open like this he can't help but dive in. He slides his hand lower, resting it over Andrew's heart.

"Your heart's beating fast," he says quietly, nearly a whisper. "Could be a chest burster."

"Mourn me," Andrew responds, and Neil smothers his laugh in his pillow. It's got that fresh lavender scent, and reminds him that there's no way he's going to do laundry by himself this week. That room is dark.

For whatever reason, that makes him laugh more. He hears Andrew move closer, hears the stuttering breath of words kept back, and peeks an eye out. Andrew tends to look kind of constipated when he's trying to say something especially revealing, and Neil has long since stopped telling him he doesn't have to.

Because...Andrew told him it wasn't necessary.

'If I want to say something, I'll say it.'

Neil smiles; he remembers thinking it was such an Andrew answer. So now he waits patiently, letting his giggles fade into staggered huffs.

Moments pass, and then, quietly: "I like it," Andrew says, voice barely above a whisper. It hasn't lost its firmness, its inability to be argued with. "I like that you're scared of something that actually can't ever hurt you."

Neil's smile falls, but he's not upset, not in the slightest.

Andrew's statement from weeks ago feels wrong now. It's Neil that doesn't know what to do with him sometimes.

There's plenty of things Neil is scared of—things that have actually hurt him, ruined and scarred him. Those fears are more deeply ingrained and clawing, impossible to erase completely with a few nights of sleep. He doesn't have to wonder if they're real, how they'd hurt him or how painful it would be.

He knows. He can feel the ghost of a blade often, the searing scent of burning flesh whenever he's near a bonfire or when he touches his scars. He sometimes still wakes up from nightmares of being held down, except this time he's not able to get back up. He's never able to run again.

And as much as Andrew would like to, he can't go and reach into the past to stop those things from happening. The realities are so much more frightening, and that terror has no remedy. Andrew knows that better than anyone.

So maybe it's nice, maybe it's just a little rewarding, to see Neil so scared of fictional aliens and monsters instead. Those are the things that can't hurt him, that can't reach him. Perhaps it's better that they occupy his mind instead so that the other demons do not.

And that's the consideration that has Neil so at a loss; he can't do much more than echo Andrew's name in his head over and over, and scoot closer to him until he's all he can make sense of.

It's quiet, aside from the rain, but now it actually sounds like itself, calm and cleansing.

"Well, yeah," Neil whispers into Andrew's chest, then sits up. He wants to say it more firmly, with no room for doubt. This way even if Andrew doesn't believe him...he knows how Neil feels. "You protected me from all that other stuff, so those fears...they're easier now."

He's never put it into words before, but it's the truth. He'll always have nightmares about knives and guns, about fires and cold, blue eyes. But he knows any new threats that come crawling back from the mafia underworld won't have just him to deal with. He'll have Andrew by his side, fighting.

So he's not as afraid of that.

Andrew's grip around him tightens, a promise that never has to be renewed. Neil knows it's forever in place.

On the other hand...

Neil nudges Andrew sheepishly, tapping his finger right between Andrew's pecs. "I just don't know if you stand a chance against an alien hivemind," Neil admits. Though to be fair, no one does. They're all fucked.

Andrew, after a beat of silence, concedes. "For once, I think you're right."

Neil nearly feels better from that, light and warm, but then Nicky comes back into the room and turns off the lights abruptly, plunging them into darkness.

And suddenly, nothing is okay.

He scoots as far away from the edge as possible, practically pinning Andrew to the wall, but the blond takes everything with a sigh.

He deserves it anyways.

Neil still jumps from any little sound the next few nights, and yes, Andrew has to walk him to the laundry room, but that's alright. The teasing he eventually gets from the rest of the Foxes is more than worth it if he gets to make Andrew hold him extra tight.

The fear eventually fades, diluted, but if he pretends to cling to it a bit longer…no one has to know.

If Andrew catches onto Neil's dramatic, fake flinches and continued unwillingness to go anywhere by himself, well...

He certainly doesn't point it out.