#snap my glasses so i can't see the screen of my computer anymore

[thevagabondexpress]

i'm legit considering deleting what little i have of rivers & gates off ao3 tomorrow instead of updating it someone please do something to convince me not to do this i don't want to i don't

[glitchyrealities]

Office Crush

Charles Boyle x Reader

smut smut smut, minorly unhealthy relationship dynamic and rampant saying i love you way too early but it’s charles so what are you gonna do

minors DNI

Charles looks away from the screen and rubs his forehead indignantly. This is the third stack of paperwork today, with no hope of respite. He zones out for a second, taking a moment to rest his hands.

"Boyle." Captain Holt's voice echoes, and Charles jumps.

"Yes, Captain!" His eyes immediately land on the pretty new face behind the Captain.

The Captain is speaking, but Charles is paying no attention. His eyes wander from your heels up to your stockinged thighs before he snaps himself back.

"Sorry..." he chuckles awkwardly, his face flushing red. "what was that, Captain?"

"I said...this is Y/N. She will be assisting you with the money laundering case. I won her in a bet with major crimes. She'll be sharing your desk until her things are transferred. I'm entrusting you to make her feel welcome while she settles in."

"Of course, sir. Anything she needs, I will be her man." He says quickly,

The Captain nods and returns to his office.

"Anything?" You quip with a raised brow, locking eyes.

"Anything in my power?" He says, unsure.

You giggle and he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Charles is smitten. You're tall, beautiful, and intimidating. After a couple of weeks of working together, his little crush has only grown bigger. He's even bought himself a sample size of the perfume you wear.

You're not at your computer right now, and Charles takes the opportunity to admire your handwriting across the desk. While he's distracted, a hand clamps down on his shoulder.

"Boyle. Heard you've been working pretty well with my girl?" The vulture says, appearing behind Charles.

"Uh…your girl?"

"Y/N.  Just wanted to warn you that I'll have her back in major crimes before you can even finish this case, so don't go getting attached. I'm sure she's already bored of you."

-

Charles can't take it anymore. He's resorted to curling up in the corner of the storeroom with his papers. It's dark and musty, but at least here he can work. You're not an unpleasant deskmate, quite the opposite. That's Charles' problem- how is he supposed to focus with those perfect legs brushing up against his? Yesterday, you called him Charlie and he whined. He has to hide from you. He can't risk going full-Boyle and embarrassing himself beyond repair- especially if you and the vulture are involved.

His train of thought is interrupted by the door creaking open. Light streams in, and Charles squints as his eyes adjust.

"Charles?"

He scrambles to his feet, throwing his papers out of his lap. "Y/N, hey. What's up?"

She slips inside the door and closes it behind her, leaning back against it. The light disappears from the room, sealing them in darkness. "Are you hiding from me?"

"What? No! I love working in the storeroom, I do it all the time."

"Can you even see?"

"Not really."

"Why don't you wanna be around me, Charles? Did I do something?" You step closer to him, your heels give you a few inches of height advantage, and he has to look up to meet your eyes.

"No." He blushes. "You didn't do any-." His voice is weak and breathy, and you cut him off by pressing a kiss to his open mouth. He moves his hands to your body immediately, desperate for your touch. You run your hand over the tent in his pants and he whines, "I love you, I love you, please."

"You're so pretty like this, Charlie." You whisper, eyes fluttering closed as you meet his lips again.

The door flings open and you fly away from each other as light streams into the room.

"Oh, hey. What are you guys doing in here?" Hitchcock says, mid-chewing a sandwich.

The moment ends and the two of you collect the papers off the floor, make your excuses, and go your separate ways.

-

It's past midnight when you get up to pour yourself another glass of wine. You hear a quick knock and open up the door of your apartment to see Charles waiting for you.

"Why did you kiss me?" his expression is unreadable.

"Because I wanted to."

"What about the vulture?"

"What about Keith?" you ask, confused.

"He said you were 'his girl'."

"That's bullshit," you laugh.

"Really?" He says in a small voice.

"Really." You whisper as you lean closer to him.

Your lips meet and his hands find your hips, pulling you into him possessively,

Your hand shakily finds a surface to set down your glass as you pull him inside. He strips off his coat and tosses it somewhere. You push him down onto the couch and straddle his lap, running your fingers through his hair.

His hands find the edges of your robe and pull them down off your shoulders, exposing your little black night dress.

He gasps, bright red and breathless at having you so vulnerable. "Fuckyouresobeautiful" he whimpers, looking up into your eyes. You're rubbing your core lightly over the tent in his pants. He can feel your heat through your thin underwear and he can't help himself but buck into you.

" I want you to fuck me so bad, Charlie." You whine.

He flips you over onto the couch with ease, he's surprisingly strong. Now that he's in charge, he kneels in front of you, pulling your ass to the end of the couch and running his hands up your thighs searching for your panties. He hooks a finger under each side of the delicate lace and pulls them off of you before gently prying open your thighs to reach your pussy. He doesn't give you a second to think before latching onto your clit, lapping at your wetness like a starving man. His fingertips dig into your hips as he pulls you closer into him, lost in your taste. He won't let you go until he brings you to orgasm, worshipping you from his knees.

He kisses you, and you taste yourself on his tongue.

You can hear him unbuckling his belt and hurriedly shuffling his pants down his thighs. He meets your eyes, silently asking permission. You pull him into a kiss and he sinks his cock into you, your walls stretching to accommodate every inch.

He pulls back from the kiss, tangling one hand in your hair and looking into your eyes.

"You feel so good..." he says between thrusts, "you're so beautiful..."

"Oh, baby." You whisper, running your fingers through his hair and wrapping your legs around his hips, locking him inside you. “I love you so much."

"You love me?" He whimpers, thrusting into you as you tighten up, gripping his cock inside of you.

"God, yes, baby. I love you."

"Oh...wanna get you pregnant so bad. So you could be all mine forever."

"I am all yours. I belong to you. No one else can touch me." You breathe into his ear.

He bucks inside of you, finishing hard. He melts against your body once he finishes, head resting on your breasts and bare skin glistening in the low light.

"Do you mean it?" He whispers against your skin.

"Every word." you whisper back.

[mysticdreamcafe]

Post planning

Those who read my blogs know I have two cafe's I try to post to on a somewhat regular basis.

Today I feel I want to post a Card of the Day in the Tarot Cafe but it seems my decks are duking it out. I'm agitated today so it seems to be interfering with my choice of deck.

Agitation is because I can't find a site that won't charge me money to find an old friends records. Even the state sites charge. When the hell did this change?

Everyone is so greedy. I know greed and power have always ruled the world, but it's way out of hand. Thanks to the internet and global commerce there are more filthy rich people who aren't limited by boarders or laws anymore.

I get bombarded with ads that aren't honest. When I was in middle school, we called it Jr. High, I read a slim book in reading class about truth in advertising. Campbell's soup used clear glass marbles in the bottom of a bowl of Alphabet soup so the letters could be seen. They were fined and told that wasn't legal because people at home couldn't see the letters in their bowls. It was false advertising.

Fast forward almost a century and it's an anything goes world of promoting what you want to sell. A guy in China was gathering mud from the road, drying it in small balls, and selling it as pepper corn. What they call the police over there looked into it and he got off scott free because the mud didn't hurt anyone and it was up to the consumer to trust his word.

Make-up, health food or supplement ads are horrible. One man, who was in terrific shape and worked out daily, did a post on how people are tricked by this crap people are selling to lose weight. He took a pic after working out with weights, showering, and oiling himself like he was going to be in Mr Universe. Afterwards, he showered again, sat around eating crap, and after a few hours he snapped another pic while pushing is gut out and not flexing to show any muscles.

He swapped pics and said the non-muscular one was the before pic and the thinner, muscular one was after he used some supplement that he made up. He didn't use anything advertised to lose weight and build muscle other than eating nutritionally and exercising regularly.

Same with makeup adds. If a lady has dark spots or freckles on their face but neck is evenly toned while stating they haven't used anything yet...it's a lie. If they have bumps (pimples or whatever) before applying the makeup being sold then they are gone afterwards...it's a lie. Filters, photoshop, and other computer programs are being used to suck you in so you buy their over priced stuff. Same for aging cream.

Get botox or get fat and it will smooth out your skin. Botulism and obesity sound like things we should all aim for huh? Yes, that's sarcasm and I don't endorse any of them.

These are a few reasons why I only do Tumblr as a source of social media. I'm not bombarded by political opinions, pics of people who are using filters and other aids to look perfect according to societal standards.

I'm not beautiful by anyone's standard here in America because when I was pregnant I went from a bump to a beach ball over night and have stretch marks on abdomen and other places on my body. Try, unexpectedly, going from a flat chest in 5th grade to a c-d cup overnight. My mom was so freaked she ran me to the Dr.

Humans are organic entities and we aren't perfect. Yet, if you aren't perfect you aren't worth being seen. Same with money. Greed is overtaking everything and maintaining the same profit margin isn't good enough anymore. Even if it is a billion dollars a year. They always need to make more no matter the means.

We pay people millions of dollars for doing jobs many others could do for less. Why? Why do we judge people as being less for self publishing a book? Acting in local productions vs the silver screen? Painting landscapes that aren't like Bob Ross's? Not looking perfect? Not starving themselves to be as skinny as a model or american actress?

I can honestly say that I prefer watching UK, Australian, New Zealand, etc. shows because they have actors who look like average people you see on the streets or in shops. They don't body shame and they don't promote unhealthy means to obtain the shape they think is "perfect".

This will be continued once I get more coffee.

MV

[lunarflux]

"i promised i'd forget, but you're all i see when i dream the night away"

bang chan x reader

genre — drama!au

suggested background music: x

note: like i said - i put a lot of my life into writing. something similar to this happened to me today, and i'd like to think that music is getting me through it. i wanted to add more of a "post credits" scene for chan and o/c, but this is how my day is going and how this situation ends.

The world never felt so heavy.

You'd never thought that scrolling through social media could create this bleeding ring in your ears, yet somehow here you are, unable to look at your phone. The photo you stumbled across had already been burned into your memory. There were times when you could forget what song you'd just listened to, and yet this one image had suddenly been burned, a permanent nightmare in your mind.

Your ex looked happy. It wasn't a bad breakup, but after a year, you couldn't expect him to stay single forever. You'd both agreed to move on, and while you swore you had, seeing the photo of him with a beautiful girl kissing his cheek made your shoulders heavy. Staring at your blacked out screen, it was like the photo was still there, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't keep yourself from seeing it. Every time you closed your eyes, there he was.

Happy.

You fumbled with your cell phone, placing it face down on your desk before your boss could catch you. It was hard to hide the look on your face. It was pain, sadness, and confusion. How was it that after all this time, you hadn't succeeded in moving on, but he had?

Was it you? Or was this girl really so special that you were worth forgetting?

The feeling of being forgotten - it's seeing the dust gather on photos and the doorknob that he will never open again.

It's over.

"Do you have the paperwork for the meeting tomorrow?" Chan popped into your office, placing a fresh mug of coffee on your desk. You'd started here only six months ago, but he already knew that you liked your coffee light and sweet. "Jisoo wants to make sure we're not missing anything before -"

"Yeah, I have it." You said curtly, looking back at your computer, typing away at your report. "I'll bring it to you later."

"I mean, I can wait for it if you have it ready."

"Chan," you looked up at him. "I said I'll bring it to you later."

Chan looked at you with mild concern. Sure, there were a lot of women in the office, and the men had eventually learned when not to step on toes in the case of any mood swings because of work stress. You weren't one of those people though. You were the type of person who'd rid the stress with a bar of chocolate and be done with it. You'd never snapped at him before.

"Okay." Chan backed out quietly. He ducked into the next office over. Knocking on Minki's office door, he peered in.

"Hey," Minki stood up. "I gotta bring these to the fourth floor, can you watch the phone for me?"

"Yeah, no problem." Chan smiled before taking a seat.

Ping

He knew that you and Minki were office best friends ever since you got hired. While he didn't mean to see it, Minki left his messenger open and slowly your messages came flooding in.

x: he moved on x: am i supposed to be upset? x: we broke up a year ago, so why do i feel so defeated haha x: maybe i'm just decomposing. why do i feel like this x: can we get drinks later? i know you hate it when i drink to drown out my sorrows, but i just can't be here right now.

Damn.

Chan swore he didn't mean to see all that. That would explain the mood though.

x: i didn't think i'd miss him this much. i just want to forget about it.

Taking in a deep breath, Chan pulled out his phone and made a call.

**

"Chan, why did you need me for this stupid client dinner? And who the hell has dinner at 4PM?" You continuously complained as he drove you down the road into the next district.

"Just relax, it'll be fine."

You rested your head against the passenger side window. As your breath fogged up the glass, you scribbled little hearts, peppered over the skyline as Chan drove. It wasn't until you started seeing signs that you realized you were at Banpo Bridge. Chan pulled into the empty parking lot.

"The client wants to have dinner here? What are we doing - getting takeout?" You jested.

Chan opened your door. "Go sit over there, I'll be right back."

You took your seat right by the edge of the water. The weather really was perfect today. The fresh air helped clear out your thoughts. Even though the breakup was a year ago, seeing that photo really made it feel like it just happened yesterday. Your heart broke twice, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to think that you hate him now. You loved him as a memory - a beautiful, happy memory, and it was time to let go now.

Chan re-emerged next to you, a bag with four bottles of soju and piping hot ramen in his hands.

"Um -" You nearly laughed at the sight of him struggling to carry everything. "Am I missing something? Are the clients your drinking buddies?"

"Sit, sit, please." Chan arranged everything down on the ledge.

"Not that I'm ungrateful, but I am confused."

"I, uh." He sat down next to you, removing his jacket. "I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me."

Stopping halfway from opening a bottle, you looked up at him.

"y/n, Minki had me watch over his desk, and I... I'm sorry, I saw your messages."

"Chan, that was private." You looked down at your shoes, feeling the heaviness in your chest again.

"I know. And I'm sorry." He grabbed the bottle from you and opened it himself. "Minki had to run to another meeting, and I saw how sad you were. I just figured I'd help you escape for a bit. I called in a favor from the interns to watch your stuff, so we could... do this, I guess."

You'd always known Chan was a softie. He was that guy in the office who never forgot about birthdays and important events. He was never late, and he would do everything he could to help out the new people. Even to you, he was a big help whenever you needed it.

"Again, I'm sorry." He poured two shots and handed you one. "But you looked like you needed it, so - cheers."

You watched him as you threw back your soju. You stifled a smile, "Pitiful, isn't it. Still feeling like you've been dumped even after an entire year."

Chan winced as the alcohol hit the back of his throat. "Not at all. Who said that a year was the right time to get over someone? There's no rule for that."

You continued to sip slowly, watching him open up all the snacks.

"I haven't had a girlfriend in years, and I swear, after my last girlfriend and I broke up, I couldn't stop thinking about her even because of the littlest things. It wasn't a bad breakup, but when you have so many happy moments with someone, you can't help but feel sad when you see that person making new moments with someone else. It makes you wonder if that could've been me, y'know?"

It couldn't be stopped. One deep breath and suddenly all the tears started pouring out. You couldn't control your breathing, and it felt like the weight of the world finally came crashing down on your chest, reminding you of every little happy memory that had to be released into the ocean like confetti.

Chan rushed over, placing his jacket on your shoulders. He hushed you, rubbing your arms to warm you up. Crouching down in front of you, he pulled you up and brought you into his chest.

"Wait, I'll get makeup on your shirt -"

He laughed at your childish worries. "It's just a shirt. Just go ahead, it's okay. I can get it dry-cleaned, and you're worth more than some shirt."

Feeling your tears soak up in the cotton, you just cried, and Chan let you until it felt like there was nothing left. You chest was still heaving, but you felt the weight lift slowly. The sea air started filling your lungs again like an icy burn.

"I'm sorry." You finally looked up, mascara stained on your cheeks. You smeared what you could from your face before sitting.

"Stop apologizing." Chan sat down beside you again. "Do you feel better?"

"A little."

Placing his hand on yours, Chan smiled. It was a warm gentle smile. He squeezed, "It will get better. I promise."

"I just feel like everyone keeps moving on, and I'm just stuck here."

"Where is 'here' to you? 'Here' to me is existing with a good job with good friends and a good life. 'Here' is anything you're doing happily without him." He reached up to cup your cheek. "I know you feel miserable, but your body won't let you feel this way forever. And neither will I. Please don't feel as if 'here' is an awful place. 'Here', you have me, and I'll stay until you're not sad anymore."

Peering up at him with red eyes, you smiled with whatever energy you had. Sadness still sat on your shoulders, but it didn't feel so awful anymore.

Chan nodded towards you.

"Until you're not sad or until you ask me to leave - I'll be here for you."

[roswelldetails]

RNM 2x05 - I'll Stand By You

So just a little note from me, the person behind the season 2 detailing.  I am trying really really hard to keep emotion out of these posts...which is really really hard for me because I'm an inherently emotional person. I'm a glass case of emotion, ready to shatter at any given moment. (#dramatic)  But I want to be true to the intent of this blog and keep my feelings, biases, and, you know, shipping out of this blog.

It was really really hard to do with this episode. Because I straight up ugly cried for like, 45 of the 60 minutes. 😂

So I guess, the point is, I'm proud of myself and sticking to the details here. My regular blog is where I'm doing the emotional flip out thing! 😂

EPISODE SUMMARY:

ACCEPTING REALITY — The discovery of some complications with Max’s (Nathan Dean) pod forces Liz (Jeanine Mason), Michael (Michael Vlamis) and Isobel (Lily Cowles) to confront the possibility that they may not be able to save him. Elsewhere, Maria (Heather Hemmens) and Alex (Tyler Blackburn) make amends. Kimberly McCullough directed the episode written by Alanna Bennett & Jason Gavin (#205). Original airdate 4/13/2020. 

DETAILS:

Max/Isobel/Michael reunite at age 11 according to what Michael tells Alex in 1x10.  So that would make the opening of this episode set in 2002ish.

Michael tells Max and Isobel, "I remember you. I don't know you."

"After nobody adopted me for a year they just stuck me with the name of that trucker who found us."

"I didn't ask you for anything."

This is like the thesis statement of Michael's whole history with Max in the flashbacks.

"Don't pay more than you collect, kid. Passing credit back and forth is a good way to get stuck with somebody forever."

Rosa's art. 

What I can see says: "...what they all told me, but I didn't listen" and "Stand the shelter".

Rosa on her dreams

"I have not had any freaky dreams in weeks. Okay, Max is probably off haunting Isobel now that they're strong enough for their psychic twincest weirdness."

"How long has that been happening?"

"Um, I don't know. It's an old boom box."

"Rosa, have electrical appliances been malfunctioning around you?"

"I really thought it was just a side effect of the handprint."

"If being in the pod introduced a new protein into your system it could have altered your DNA too. You could be developing abilities."

"Liz, look. The handprint is changing.  It's smaller."

"It's fading."

"Tell me this is a good thing."

"I don't think so."

Michael and Liz theorizing on why the pod shorted out:

"The pod's got a charge. It's like a battery powering the preservation process. This one's gone dead."

"Did the generator blow the electromagnetic threshold?"

"I think a surge came from the pod itself. But that pod has lasted almost a century. It shouldn't glitch out."

"Okay, well, then, this one did."

"All right, stop. It doesn't matter why the pod is broken. It just is. So how long does Max have?"

"My theory is that being tethered to Rosa through the mark is what kept Max from going brain-dead, and in turn the stasis process is what kept the mark from fading. So he could be gone by tonight."

"Okay, well, we have three more pods. So let's just put him into another pod."

"No. He's just gonna do it again. I haven't told you everything. I didn't want to scare you. I didn't want to be the one that took the hope away."

"Talk now, Rosa. Right now."

"I was seeing Max in my nightmares months before I told you about it, and he was begging me to stop you. He said that he was in a lot of pain in there."

"That's Noah's pod. Noah told us it was broken. It wasn't keeping him in stasis. He could feel time passing. None of us thought of that."

"We've been doing everything we can to make Max stronger. He pulled his own plug."

Note...as far as we know Isobel was the only one who knew about Noah's pod being broken.  In 1x12 it was before Liz arrived at the house that he told them about the broken pod, so only Max and Isobel heard that part of the story.

Alex on his training. "NSA intelligence cryptology training".

Monitor screen in the secret lab:

Noah's heart is still too weak to transplant. Kyle says it needs at least eight more weeks

"I wrote a paper for a bioethics class on patients in vegetative states who feel pain. Sometimes it's all they feel."

As a non sciencey person, I was wondering if bioethics class was a real thing. Tonight I saw an interview on the news with a UC Berkeley bioethics professor on COVID. So yes, it's a thing.

Alex on Michael that summer post-Rosa's death:

Starting fights with jocks

Broke into the drugstore

Not going to UNM

Hasn't hung out with Max all summer

Got busted for stealing hubcaps (Kyle's hubcaps, we learn later) 

Became a walking bar fight

Was in jail when Alex left to enlist

Michael on Max in 2008:

"It's more than that. And it's less than that. We were friends when we were kids, but now Max reminds me of a bunch of stuff that I'd rather forget. The only thing that we have in common anymore is Isobel."

Max's yearbook had a pencil stuck in the page with Liz and Max's photo in it. (The one we first saw in 1x03).

"Biology Club. Max hated science. He was in that club for four years just to watch your sister chew on the end of her pencil."

Max's mindscape:

First just desert, clouds, and then lightning strikes (destructive energy?)

Liz's antennae -- they disappear from Isobel's hands

Rosa describes it as broken

Crashdown special is Max's favorite "Little Green Man milkshake".

The Crashdown counter is kind of merged with biology lab equipment. 

The juke box is there

The Crashdown booths

Jeep

Neon Crashdown sign

One of those claw drop game machines (from the Crashdown) but it's filled with baked good displays.

The yearbook

Later, everything else is gone except the one Crashdown booth, the Jeep, and the neon sign.

The distorted music they follow to find Max is the Cactus Groove song in the music list...just, messed around with. See @angsty-nerd's post here:

"I'm the hothead. You are the hero. It's always been that way."

"You stole the hubcaps off Kyle Valenti's graduation present. Both his parents are cops. Do you want to end up in jail tonight?". 

👀 Tonight, specifically. 

Michael seemed excited about the job at Foster's Ranch until he found out that Max set it up for him.  Max found out about it from his dad (only like the 2nd or 3rd mention of his dad in the series so far).

"When I got back in town I asked Max why you and your brilliant mind hadn't changed the world yet. He said you didn't care about the world enough to bother changing it. He believed you could."

Max and Isobel in the mindscape:

"You're okay. I could feel something was wrong with you.  Everything felt…"

"Cold. I know."

"You can't be here. It's finally ending.  I can feel it. But I don't know what happens if you're in my head when I die."

"So it's true? You want this?"

"I could feel my connection to the outside world getting stronger, so I snapped. I couldn't take it anymore. I released a surge. You have to let me go, Iz."

"I can't take it anymore."

"Okay."

"I am so sorry."

"I just want to memorize this."

"Okay. Okay.  I need you to tell Liz something."

"You can tell her yourself.  She and Kyle are prepping for surgery.  They're going to use the faulty heart. She just wants to talk to you before you die."

"No. No."

"You won't be suffering. They're just gonna bring you back and then let you go."

"No you have to stop this.  You cannot bring me back under any circumstances."

"Max? What is really going on?"

"I am dangerous.  Whatever Liz is bringing back is not me. It's just some broken shell."

Maria on her mom's computer 

"Her nurse said that for the two weeks before she went missing, when she wasn't trying to escape, she was talking to someone online."

The 21st birthday flashback

Isobel gets Michael to help move Max after getting drunk on tequila.  He passed out in front of the tattoo parlor. It's the same tattoo parlor Michael goes to at the end of the episode.

Max's weird drunken statement.

"The thing is, there has to be there. Okay? There's always three. Until the very end.  I'll show you...What it means is you should be here…'cause it's all broken without three. So we'll figure it out.  You'll find your way back."

👀 Until the very end. Interesting.

On Max becoming a deputy:

"You know he did the whole police academy thing because of you, right? He thinks you're gonna get into the kind of trouble you can't get out of if you don't know someone."

Back in the mindscape:

"I figured it all out. She, there's an energy to suffering, there's an energy to death, and when I heal people, I absorb that energy. So when I resurrected Rosa, I took in ten years of emptiness. So if you resurrect me, you will be bringing back an infection. Don't want… I don't want to come back as a monster. I don't want to hurt anyone that I care about."

"That's what this is about? We've been hurting, Max. We don't work without you."

"You will! You will. You are stronger now than when I died. All of you are. You, Michael, Liz, you will survive this. The three of you. No, you need to stop them, Iz. Now."

"Okay. I love you."

"You too." Isobel disappears.

Max is using pretty similar wording to his drunken rambles in the 21st birthday flashback

We don't see that Max is chained down until this next exchange with Rosa. Isobel didn't see that detail as far as we know.  Didn't hear the chains clanking when they stood and hugged. Only after Isobel left.

"I'm sorry this is happening."

"Isobel is lying. She is buying time.  You know she'll never let me go. But you can feel the darkness too, right? That's why you don't like being in my head. Because you know it's real."

"I didn't want that to be true, but yes."

"I know my sister and I know your sister and they'll never give up. So you have to be the one to stop this surgery, okay? Or I will destroy everything that we love. You have to stop them to save them. Now go.  Please, Rosa. Go."

Isobel explaining to Liz

"When he saved Rosa he absorbed all of that dark energy. He's gonna have to expel it."

"And he's afraid he's gonna kill someone when he does."

"Yeah. So we just need someone stronger than Max to take that hit...if he thinks he needs to protect us he obviously doesn't know how capable we are. Bring him back, Liz. I'll handle the rest."

"I get it now. It's gotta be the three of us."

"He would never pull his plug to end his own suffering. Unless he thought he was saving us from something. And I'm a little sick of his heroic martyr crap."

In case you missed it, Michael did not know that.  At the beginning of the hospital sequence Isobel is telling Liz what she learned in Max's mindscape and says that she hasn't been able to get ahold of Michael.  Michael figured it out on his own. He finally "got it".

The pacemaker:

Isobel with Max at the end… everything is gone except the Jeep. And Bright Eyes playing (the song he and Liz danced to on their first date back in 2008). And then his eyes close and Bright Eyes fades away.

“First thing I remember is the three of us. We woke up terrified and lost. But together. And then all of the sudden I was alone. I got real good at being alone. I had given up on people entirely. And then you found me again. Hell of hero move. You showed up just in time. When you are a kid who nobody loves, kindness is a currency. Friendship doesn’t means jack. Family just lies, and hurts, and leaves. I’ve only ever known love to be temporary. So yeah, I push people away. Every time someone threatens to care about me I test their love until they have to leave. Connection is conditional. Everybody eventually gives up on the guy who refuses to be rescued. But you were the only one who I couldn’t run off. You never believed me when I tried to be something I wasn’t. So this thing in your chest, it might give your heart a pretty solid kick every once in a while. Consider it payback. It’s my hero move, Max. If you wake up, you consider us even, okay? If you wake up, we can be a family.”

Good visual parallels during Michael's speech. Alex and Kyle drinking together during the "and then you found me again". Maria walking up on "the guy who refuses to be rescued"

Max is in the coma for three weeks.  Wakes up at the secret lab (instead of his house, which is where he was previously.  I'm guessing it was a planned wake up because he's no longer plugged into all of the IVs and whatnot.

"I begged you to understand."

"Max, it's gonna be fine."

"No… I told you to let me go. I can feel it inside me."

"It's...it's symmetry, okay? It's just energy for energy.  We can deal with that. Fight it, Max. This isn't you."

"I don't want to hurt you. I need to get out. I need to get away from you, from everyone."

"I can't let you do that."

Max shoves Isobel and runs. When he shoves her there's a slight ringing like the sound they use when the aliens use their powers.  Isobel follows and stops him with her powers.

"I made a promise that if you came back and you weren't Max, and you were actually going to hurt people that I would kill you. I figure, hey, you got to play God. Make life and death decisions all on your own. Well it's my turn now."

MUSIC:

1. Letters To Cleo "Here and Now"

2. Lady Antebellum "Love Don't Live Here"

3. Cactus Groove "Fallin"

4. James Talley "Big Thunder"

8. Ross Copperman "Stars Are On Your Side"

5. Lindsey Ray "Keep You Safe"

6. Tommee Profitt feat. Sam Tinnesz "With you Til The End"

7. Bright Eyes "First Day Of My Life"

The Cactus Groove song is the first song this season that I haven’t been able to find on Spotify… let me know if any of y’all had any luck with it!

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.2.23 HALLOWEEN NIGHT/NOVEMBER 1ST 5:51 AM

Warren County, Illinois

Diego stopped walking and hit the little light on the side of his watch and looked at it. ‪5:51.‬

When will this stupid rain stop? He thought, beginning to walk again.

He hated this part of the walk. The trailer park he lived in with his mom was out in the middle of nowhere, and this time of year, when it was still dark in the early mornings, you couldn't see anything out here. Leighton dropped him off most nights, but he didn't have the heart to have her come pick him up this early. I don’t think we’ve reached that phase of our relationship yet, he smiled to himself.

It's cool, he thought, only three more paychecks and then I can put a down payment on a new ride.

🎃

Gabriel Couture had been dozing. He would never have admitted it to anyone, certainly not his wife and definitely not any other trucker, even though every single one of them had at one time or another caught themselves starting to doze on a long haul. Just like any other time, you only knew you were dozing when you woke up and things were different than when they were just a moment ago.

His favorite program on the radio had just ended and the station was now airing the morning news. A man had been on there talking about some serial killers from Mississippi when all of a sudden he had heard an electronic beeping noise, and now there was a girl on the radio talking about where to go to get the best “tropical tan and bikini wax”.

That means it had been at least thirty seconds that Gabriel had been drowsing behind the wheel.

Very scary, he thought.

He thought of that video in trucking school they had shown him about the distance the truck traveled when you merely took your eyes off the road long enough to shoot a glance at the Qualcomm screen. It was like two football fields or something like that.

The Qualcomm had been the thing responsible for the electronic beeping. A robotic woman's voice came through the speakers, temporarily cutting out the commercial audio on the radio:

“You have....thirty...minutes...left in your legal time to drive. Please make arrangements to pull over.”

Good thing I only got about fifteen minutes left, Gabriel thought and picked up the can of Monster Energy drink that sat in his cup holder. He shook it, hearing a few drops of liquid at the bottom of the can, he put it to his mouth and stuck his tongue out to catch the last precious bit.

It was warm and tasted like piss.

🔪

“Why do you have to live so far out in the middle of fucking nowhere!?” Kyndra groaned, checking her phone for the time.

Brad wasn't listening, he was wiping the inside of the windshield with a Liberty Burger wrapper he had found in the center console of the Mustang. “God damn I can't see shit!” He hissed.

“Well, you're the one who wanted to smoke a damn bowl in the car,” Zoey said, “It's raining like crazy and we couldn't open the window to let the smoke out, what did you think was going to happen?”

“I didn't think it would fog up like this,” Brad said, turning the control on the dash from hot to cold.

“Stop playing with that and watch the road,” Kyndra snapped.

“I'm trying to defrost the window!” He roared back.

“Well it doesn't matter if it's hot or cold air, it's still gonna clear the window,”

“That's not true, it needs hot air!” Brad yelled.

“It's fucking roasting in here,” Kyndra turned the dial back to cold.

“I'm pretty sure you need cold air to clear the window,” Zoey said.

The mustang hydroplaned and this time it seemed like Brad barely caught hold of it. Zoey fell to the side on the backseat and the pipe rolled off her lap and hit the floorboards with a clang. Kyndra screamed.

“My pipe!” Bellowed Brad.

“I got it...” Zoey's muffled voice came from the back.

“Watch the fucking road!” Kyndra yelled. She wiped the windshield with the arm of the sweatshirt Brad had let her borrow.

🎃

Gabriel stretched his neck and caught the sight of the headlights out of his passenger mirror. His first thought was that it had to be a cop by the way they were moving. He had seen plenty of cops on the road that night, most in a big hurry, most with their lights on, and most had passed him. He took his foot off the gas and prepared to be passed by this one now, only it came right up on him and paused.

He could see from the lights it wasn't a cop. It was a sports car of some sort...looked kind of old. It eased closer until it was directly behind his trailer and out of sight from his mirrors. The only thing that made his presence known was the halo of light that now shone in both mirrors emanating from either side of his cab.

Gabe blinked a few times to try and perk up a little.

Stupid tailgaters, he thought.

🔪

Zoey popped up from the backseat. “Got it,” she held up the pipe. “It had rolled under the....shit watch out!”

“I know..I know” Brad said, easing off the gas, his foot turned slightly to the left to cover the brake, but even he knew better than to mash it hard in the rain.

Kyndra put her hand up on the ceiling of the Mustang as the trailer of a semi-truck emerged from the veil of rain to dominate the view beyond their slowly un-fogging windshield.

“I got double lines,” Brad murmured, “When I get the dotted line I'll pass him.”

Kyndra looked at him like he had three eyes, “What? You're not going to fuckin' pass him now! Not in this rain.”

“You said we needed to hurry!” Brad snarled.

“We're already late,” Zoey said, “No reason to kill us.”

“God I fucking hate semitrucks!” Brad moaned.

🎃

“Jeez Lloyd! I can't barely see a dang thing!” Lee whined, he was elbows up on the steering wheel, looking so far ahead through the rain drops, his forehead was nearly touching the glass of the windshield.

Lloyd sat on the passenger seat next to him, calmly counting the cash he had pulled in fistfuls from Raj Gudipati's cash register.

“I know brother,” he said calmly, not looking up, “I've been driving in the shit all night.”

“It looks like it's raining even harder now!” Lee said.

Lloyd ignored him. “Jesus fuck!” he moaned, tossing the cash into the glove compartment. “Seventy eight dollars and sixty four cents! That's all that Indian fucker had on him in the whole register.”

“He probably has to do cash drops every hour like we had to at the restaurant.” Lee said.

“No shit,” Lloyd said, picking up the pack of Marlboros in the center console, pulling one out, and lighting it. “Whole world's going to be computerized before you know it. Computers gonna tell us when to eat, when to shit, when to fuck...you watch!”

Lee goofy-laughed, “I saw a show on TV that said it was a sign of the apocalypse.”

“Damn right,” Lloyd said, taking a drag. He cracked his window a bit to blow the smoke out. The whooshing sound of rain filled the cab, drowning out the music. Some water dripped on his right shoulder so he scooted closer to his brother. “We are in the last days little brother.”

“Amen to that.” Lee replied.

Lloyd turned up the radio to block out the rain.

🔪

I wish he'd just pass me, Gabriel thought.

He knew the person behind him wouldn't because of the double lines, but he didn't care. Nothing made a trucker nervous like some jackass so far up his rear he couldn't see him in the mirrors.

Maybe if I slow down a little, he'll get tired and just go around me. He thought and backed off the gas.

🎃

“God what the fuck!” Brad moaned and slightly leaned on the brake.

“Chill out Brad, it's okay.” Zoey said calmly from the back. She had extended her hand and Kyndra was now holding it.

“What the fuck is he slowing down for?”

“Who cares Brad, just chill, we're turning off up here anyway.” Kyndra said. She closed her eyes, she didn't want to watch anymore.

“We haven't even reached the Superfuel yet!”

Zoey and Brad made eye contact in the rear-view mirror. “Stop,” she mouthed.

Brad took a deep breath and sighed.

🔪

“That's right,” Gabriel chuckled to himself. “Take a little bit of that.”

His speedometer fell from 45 to 30. Any slower and he was going to have to downshift. The headlights behind him peaked out the passenger side and then the driver's side mirror. He was poking out for a peak around him.

He's gonna pass any second. Gabriel thought.

The lights peaked again.

“Awww...you're a Mustang,” Gabriel saw. Probably '77 '78...looked orange, but it was hard to tell in the dark and rain. Could have been red.

Whatever, Gabriel thought, Ford's suck...now just pass me.

Headlights coming toward them caught his eyes. His foot moved to cover the brake.

🎃

Lights seemed to appear all around Diego at once—as if a UFO was landing on top of his head. Diego looked behind him and saw the headlights of a truck coming. He knew in almost a second it was the truck that had pulled in to the Superfuel Deluxe as he had been leaving. He remembered the bluish tint to the headlights. In front of him, coming up the hill were the lights of a tractor-trailer. Diego side stepped off the pavement and into the grass. His shoe sank down into a deep dark puddle with a splash and he felt his shoe fill with water.

Awww man, he thought.

🔪

“I can't take it anymore!” Brad roared and stomped the gas, cutting the steering wheel to the left.

“No Brad!” Zoey roared. Kyndra felt Zoey's hand clench hers and she opened her eyes.

🎃

Lee and Lloyd had seen the truck, and had really thought nothing of it, even though they probably should have. Most every trucker in the area had heard their truck's description by now on their CB Radio and was on the lookout for them.

Lee was just trying to concentrate on keeping in his own lane as the big rig passed, and Lloyd was leaning forward to ash his cigarette when the two headlights of an orange 1978 mint condition Ford Mustang darted out in front of them from behind the trailer.

The truck and the mustang hit each other head on without even braking. Ordinarily a truck that size would have split open a sports-car like a can of tuna-fish, but the Mustang was old, with a big hood and a strong chassis. Instead, the front of the mustang sort of slid underneath the truck, the bumper of which crunched down on top of the windshield. Brad had been leaning forward to be able to see and the steal bumper of Booger's truck exploded his head like a watermelon. Kyndra's legs were cut off at the thighs as the weight of the truck sliced down into the cab like one of those knives in that infomercial Brad was sleeping through only hours before. The top half of Kyndra's body lifted, hit the roof, flipped over her headrest, and fell into the backseat.

Zoey had taken off her seat-belt earlier to find the pipe. Her body flew forward as if shot out of a cannon, crashing through the windshield which diced her up like a wood-chipper, seconds before the weight of the truck pulverized every bone she had in her body above the waist. She had instinctively raised her arm at the last moment to cover her face and her left hand was torn from her body and plopped on the floor in front of the passenger seat, right between her girlfriend's feet.

Neither Lloyd or Lee Chumway had been wearing their seat-belts. Lloyd had been leaning forward, ashing his cigarette, so he had catapulted forward immediately, exiting through the windshield at the same moment the airbag deployed. The airbag caught him at ‪the shins‬ and merely slowed his launch, causing him to bounce off the back windshield of the Mustang, his body rolling about forty yards across the highway, before coming to a rest in the center of the road atop the double yellow lines. Lee's body had shot forward but the airbag deployed, shoving him back into the seat. Unfortunately for him, the force of the collision forced his head to snap back, causing a basalar skull fracture in the back of his head and neck. He slumped over against the driver's side window as blood began to pour from his nose, ears, and eyes.

🔪

The collision occurred directly outside the driver's side door of Gabriel's truck and he instinctively jerked his steering wheel to the right and slammed down on the brake. His tractor wheels locked up, the pilot tire on the passenger side struck a muddy rut on the shoulder of the road. This broke the front axle of the tractor immediately. The trailer did not respond to the sudden drop in speed very well, this on top of the fact that he was running empty...and therefore light.

The trailer hitch compressed into the fifth wheel, the back six wheels came off the ground about eight inches and then bounced like basketballs for nearly six feet before beginning a tilt and skid to the left. This caused enough torque to pull the trailer on it's side, taking the cab with it. Gabriel was pulled over, his head smacked his driver's side window, knocking him unconscious immediately, and shattering his left shoulder and arm.

🎃

Diego didn't have time to react as the trailer slid toward him. He dove to the left, but the roof of the trailer caught him while he was airborne, smacking him like a tennis racket hits a tennis ball. Diego was thrown into the trees, striking a sycamore upside-down about three feet off the ground. He bounced off the massive trunk and landed face down about four feet in front of the tree line in a large patch of standing water. His heart stopped as soon as he had hit the tree and he was dead before he even hit the puddle.

The trailer continued to drag across the road and unto the shoulder, slicing a mile marker sign in two, the jagged stump of the stake that held it into the ground lacerated the fuel tank of the tractor as it followed it's own trailer's skid through the muddy grass. The soft earth broke the truck's speed, bringing it to a stop about ten feet away from Diego's head. Diesel fuel mixed with oil and gasoline from Booger McFarlane's truck and Brad Doyle's mustang ran across the road like a river and pooled around Diego's body which had created a depression in the earth.

Brad Doyle's lighter, with the skulls on it, was perched precariously in his lap, and had amazingly remained that way throughout the entire accident. As a result of basically losing his own head and brain however, his right leg went into a short, but violent spasm about five minutes after the accident, thrusting into the gas pedal, releasing more fuel into the road in a gush. The lighter fell from his lap, slicing through a gash in the floorboards that had opened up when the front end structure of the vehicle had been partially torn from the frame. The lighter struck the asphault below and aresulting spark ignited the trail of fuel underneath the Mustang. A snake of fire raced across the surface of the highway and exploded Diego's body into flames.

This burned only mere moments however, the fire was promptly extinguished by the extreme deluge of rain that continued to pound down on central Illinois. The vehicles had not had time to catch, and soon, everything was silent and still..except for the sounds of the storm.

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