#will i still read fics of them as the resident cool kid “rock gods”? of course

[1mnobodywhoareyou]

You cannot convince me that these boys were "cool". Were they the bottom of the social hierarchy? Probably/maybe not. But they absolutely were not cool kids. At least not within their school.

[ambivalentmarvel]

so the story behind this is that @sreppub​ arrived in my dms saying “sitcom starring two uppity, former rich guys and a regular poor college kid who follow up an online ad and become roommates” and i said something along the lines of “your MIND” and here we are. she does the art, i do the fic, and we both yell a lot along the way. read it on here or ao3 and enjoy!!

The Sitcom Supreme

If Peter or Stephen were around to hear Tony tell the story of how they all ended up rooming together, they would have plenty of objections, to which he would call them both dirty liars, to which they would gang up on him because they’re terrible and like that, to which he would probably throw up his hands in exasperation and/or make the mistake of engaging them in a debate, to which they would grin like wolves because, once again, they’re terrible and like that, but Tony’s the asshole who put up the Craigslist ad, so he gets to start—because he’s terrible and like that.

It’s a common trait amongst the three of them, what can he say?

The beginning of the story does not involve either of the other two, however. It begins with Rhodey, who is only occasionally terrible and like that. Rhodey has been Tony’s best friend since the tender age of fifteen. Considering Tony at age fifteen was a greasy little douche bag with too much money and a whole bunch of daddy issues that were somehow more obvious then than they are in the present, this is an impressive feat. 

Where things start, Rhodey and Tony are roommates at MIT, which is Howard’s school of choice to shove his problem child onto. Tony is supposed to get a single dorm room, but there’s a cockroach problem in that building. Administration has to get creative, which is how Rhodey, fresh out of boot for the fall semester, gets saddled with approximately one hundred and fifty pounds of neglected teenage boy who has only kind of gone through puberty.

The first words out of Tony’s mouth are blunt: “Any chance you have plans to drop out?”

And Rhodey looks at him with a raised brow, efficiently unpacked and totally unimpressed with the enormous stack of Tony’s things wavering in the doorway. “You have any plans to quit being annoying?” he retorts, which set the tone for their entire relationship.

Tony loves him to pieces. 

He’s the older brother he never knew he needed, yanking him by his collar from frat parties on the weekends and to his house for holidays because getting swamped by Rhodey’s six younger siblings is infinitely better than having to wear a suit and tie for Christmas dinner with six CEOs and maybe some senators, depending on the year. In return, Tony sees him through every finals week of his collegiate career, during which Rhodey gets so nervous he usually pukes at least daily and pulls so many all-nighters Tony memorizes the exact shade of red his eyes are at the end.

So, it’s safe to say they get along well. They get along so well, as a matter of fact, that when they stare at each other after their graduation ceremony for their Masters—a two-year process for both of them, and Rhodey receives two degrees to Tony’s four—surrounded by Rhodey’s family and Jarvis, Tony’s lips curl in a smirk Rhodey knows spells the best kind of trouble. “What do you say we keep the roommate streak alive, yeah? Howard’s building an office in New York, and I’m thinking of doing a doctorate at NYU.”

Rhodey’s brows raise, but he’s grinning, so Tony already knows his answer. “Depends. Are you still gonna’ snore?”

“Are you still gonna’ have a stick up your a—”

Mama Rhodes shoots Tony a look from where she’s trying to corral the rest of her kids.

“—butt?” he finishes with a sheepish glance her way.

Rhodey does not even remotely have a stick up his ass, but of the two of them, he features in tabloids far, far less, which Tony somehow uses to his advantage.

“You know it,” Rhodey replies, and so they find a fancy penthouse that Tony mostly pays for, with the excuse of Rhodey satisfying his part of rent via generally covering Tony’s ass to the best of his ability. And he has a lot of ability, honed from years upon years of Tony self-destructing at the drop of a hat, but there’s only so much he can do, especially as his military career just keeps flying higher and Howard just keeps pushing Tony harder.

A few sex tapes, especially wild benders, and crashed cars later, when Howard cuts Tony off and tells him, quote, “I won’t speak to you until you learn to do something other than disappoint me”, Rhodey very gracefully still shacks up with him in their considerably less fancy apartment.

This is all important to know, contrary to what someone whose name may or may not rhyme with Tephen Trange might say about Tony’s “long-winded” and “overly-complicated” storytelling tendencies because it explains exactly why Rhodey is a traitor.

Is Carol a very cool lady who could kick Tony’s ass? Yes. Is she sickeningly cute with Rhodey and not just because a smile from her makes him melt into a pile of fucking goo on the floor? Also yes. Does it probably make more sense for Tony to find roommates who will actually be around to monitor his—allegedly—poor mental health and self-care habits? Okay, fine, yes, but the bottom line is, Rhodey is moving in with Carol and abandoning Tony, and nobody said he had to like it.

(This is not strictly true, what with the approximately ten conversations Rhodey and he have had about his happiness and how, if Tony needs him, all he has to do is say the word and he’ll be back, but Tony has always had a flair for the dramatic.)

The whole idea is that Tony will find someone gone less than Rhodey with all his military business to enjoy having around the apartment. It’s technically a three-bedroom, but he and Rhodey use the extra one for storage. Fortunately or unfortunately, that storage area has become a lot of junk they go through before Rhodey makes his grand exit, and Tony suddenly has the option of having two roommates.

The ad is a low point, he can admit that, but there is a flaw in what Tony loudly calls Rhodey’s master plan to leave him alone to wallow in misery: Tony doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends, nevermind people who he’d want to live with.

“Rhodey. Honeybear. Platypus.”

“The nicknames are old, and you need to stop using them around Carol. She called me Platypus last night during sex, and it ruined the whole mood.”

“You poor thing.”

“She thought it was hilarious.”

If Tony has to lose Rhodey to anybody, by God, Carol is his first choice by a long shot.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Sourpatch—”

“I hate you.”

“—how am I supposed to find someone else to live with?”

Tony is thirty-two and regularly speaks out with all of four people: Pepper, Rhodey, Carol, and Happy. Unfortunately, Happy works in Stark Industries’ California branch and has stated rather firmly that he’s not interested in transferring to the city, Pepper wouldn’t live with another person for love or money, and the other two are spoken for.

It’s a terrible situation to be in, honestly.

“Craigslist,” Rhodey deadpans, fighting with some packing tape.

Tony feels his heart stop beating in real time from his place folding some of Rhodey’s clothes into a plastic tub. His head snaps up, and his jaw drops, absolutely affronted. “You would suggest that I, even disowned and stripped of my former glory—” Tony has several million dollars in the stock market, but that’s neither here nor there and isn’t much compared to the fact that he was supposed to be a billionaire. “—would stoop to looking for live-in friends on Craigslist?”

Rhodey looks up to meet his eyes, unfazed. He’s used to Tony’s antics after nearly two decades of friendship. “Well, I’m not moving out until you have at least one person guaranteed to take my place, so unless you have any better ideas, yeah.” He shrugs—just shrugs, as if he isn’t advising Tony to scrape the bottom of the fucking barrel in terms of reliable people to regularly fall asleep around.

It’s insulting.

“I’m not putting out an ad for a roommate on Craigslist,” he protests, shoving the next horribly colored polo into the tub with disdain.

That night, he tears up thinking about stopping Rhodey from being happy with Carol, and the post is up by the time Rhodey gets up—stupidly early, like normal—for his morning run. Along with his contact information and a few blurry pictures of the place, it includes a blurb about the circumstances.

Best friend moving out. Need a roommate or I will die of Sadness. His girlfriend is cool but hewas mind first. Carol, I am watching you. Two rooms open for business. But not sketchy business. You can just lve there. Current resident (me) is cool and very charming. I am a man. No dumb fuck offers. Thanks.

It could use some work, but Tony’s never been great with words, even less so when he’s crying to rock ballads at two in the morning. He edits it when he wakes up, and by noon that day, it’s looking better.

At seven o’clock that evening, he receives one of two messages that actually work out.

Enter the first offender: Peter Parker.

Peter, Tony will learn, is nineteen, attending NYU—like Tony did, which is a sign, really—for a double major in biochemistry and physics, and has the worst luck of anyone Tony’s ever met.

Rhodey’s moving out in a week—he’s been putting off finding a roommate for a while, alright—and Peter has to legally be out of his dorm in three days. That is quite the predicament, and Tony, by nature, is a curious creature. He is not, however, one for beating around the bush. That results in a text that reads exactly this.

Tony: What the hell did you do?

He could hack through the university files, but explanations are always more fun with a personal touch that’s lacking in, say, an incident report. Tony watches a bubble with three blinking dots for a long, long time, and the reply is surprisingly sparse—sparse enough, in fact, for Tony to have more questions than answers when he receives it.

Unknown Sender: theres been a few things but the kicker was the fire

Tony: The fire?

Unknown Sender: i tried to make popcorn and the microwave blew up

Now that is some problematic behavior Tony can get behind. He amends the kid’s previously non-existent contact information.

Tony: How can they kick you out for that? That’s not your fault.

Roommate (?) Peter: it blacked out the power on the entire first floor

Tony: And?

Roommate (?) Peter: last month i got the blame for contaminating half the campus water supply

Roommate (?) Peter: so i was already on thin ice

Tony: Accidentally?

Roommate (?) Peter: idk sometimes things just happen to me

Tony doesn’t know how to respond to that. If Rhodey knew, he’d never let him live it down. He can hear his annoying laugh in his ears like a premonition—“Hah—Tony, speechless?”—but then there are the dots again and a simple message to follow the last, a touch pathetic.

Roommate (?) Peter: please let me move in

Tony likes him.

Peter shows up on the stairs of the complex thirty-six hours after Tony posted the ad with a backpack and a meager total of six beat-to-shit boxes. The backpack holds nearly all of his school supplies, which makes Tony, in retrospect, genuinely fearful for the integrity of his spine, and the contents of the boxes are sorted, as Tony will learn, into three categories that each have two boxes in them. The categories are fairly simple—clothing, necessities, and whatever other shit he could fit from his dorm—and leave Peter with thrilling possessions such as an entire collection of truly atrocious shirts with science puns on them, a gallon of hand soap, and any food he had in his cupboards.

Thankfully, Rhodey is out furniture shopping with Carol when Tony goes out to meet him, which solves the problem of Rhodey going into overbearing caretaker mode at the sight of a beanpole of a kid failing to manage their life successfully. As someone who has been made many a you-haven’t-eaten-a-meal-in-two-days-and-I’m-secretly-a-panicking-mother-hen casserole, Tony counts his blessings.

Tony waves. “Peter?” he asks, reluctantly changed out of his pajamas for the day.

The kid nods. “That’s me. And you’re Tony?”

“Guilty as charged. Want a hand with those boxes?” he asks, watching Peter lift three at a time.

“No, I got it,” he insists, and then the box on top slides out of his grip and onto the sidewalk.

Peter stares at it for a second before he lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Maybe I could use some help,” he admits, and with much struggle, the two of them, each with three boxes, waddle inside. There is a moment and only one moment where Tony thinks that it might be nice to have some extra assistance, but with another thought of the things Rhodey would do at the sight of a woefully inept college kid, Tony decides it’s for the best.

Tony leads the operation, considering he has the key and also knows explicitly where they’re going, and he would have to say his biggest complaint about the ordeal is that Sam, who lives in the apartment below Tony and Rhodey with Steve and Bucky, happens to open his door as they walk by.

Being an asshole, he has something to say about it. “Need some help, shellhead?” he crows.

Tony wishes he had a free hand to flip him off.

“Watch your back, Wilson,” he growls in return, a continuation of the beef the five of them have maintained since they met approximately seven years ago, when they all moved in on the same day and kept knocking into each other’s shit in the halls.

When they reach the top of the next flight of stairs and Tony starts to fumble with the key, Peter asks about it. “So—uh—who was that?”

“That was Sam. Part of the deal with moving in is that you harass him and the other two idiots who live with him. He also responds to jackass, douchecanoe, or birdbrain.”

“Birdbrain?”

“It’s an old joke. He had a rather—” Tony grunts, forced to set down his load to unlock the door, “—spectacular run-in with some pigeons a few years ago.”

“Oh.”

“They shat on him. A lot.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a good nickname,” Tony assures him, throwing open the door with his arms flung wide for dramatic flair. “Welcome to Casa Stark. I mean, I guess it’s Casa Stark-Parker now, but if we’re hyphenating, my name goes first because I lived here first.” He holds up a finger as if to stall Peter, who has yet to speak from where his mouth is decidedly blocked by the aforementioned three boxes he is carrying. “And I know what you’re going to say—that Parker-Stark works better because it’s alphabetical—but that is where you are wrong because letters have no place in this house. Numbers are much preferred, and we play by seniority here, anyway.”

He gives Peter a meaningful look that he cannot see because, once again, boxes.

“More on that, by the way—”

“Hey, Tony?” 

He cuts him off which is, objectively, rude, but Tony rarely gets along with people who aren’t a little curt with him from time to time. This is a positive sign, really, so he allows it.

“Yeah?” 

“This can be Casa Stark-Parker, but can we get to somewhere I can set these down? My arms are, like, going to give out on me.”

Not even ten minutes in, and he’s already learned the art of bargaining. Tony’s proud, and he ushers him inside without any more monologues and a grin stretched across his face.

Peter, by virtue of moving in before Rhodey is out, ends up with the room that is no longer being used for storage. Tony has several questions for him, beginning with the fact that, despite the six packets of instant noodles he bothered to bring, he does not appear to have a mattress. Or a desk. Or a dresser. Or anything that’s supposed to go in a room.

His solutions for Tony’s concerns are as follows.

In place of a bed, he has two blankets, one to put on the floor and one to cover himself with. He was planning on sitting on the floor to do schoolwork instead of using a desk. And finally, he was going to leave his clothes in the boxes.

This is all relayed to Tony with an earnest gleam in his eyes and a smile.

Tony blinks in disbelief. Then, very eloquently, he says, “Kid, that is the saddest shit I have ever heard. Aren’t your parents helping you with the move to an apartment?”

The kid shifts from foot to foot, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing to the side.

Tony’s eyes narrow. As someone who is extremely well-versed in avoidance tactics, he feels very confident in saying that is definitely a fucking avoidance tactic.

“About that,” he begins, “first of all, I’m an orphan.” Jesus Christ. “Second of all, my aunt doesn’t exactly—uh—know I got kicked out of the dorms.”

That is all interesting information, to say the least, but luckily, Tony thrives under pressure.

“Alright. I can respect that.”

It’s not like he never hid anything from his parents. Evading his aunt is Peter’s problem, not Tony’s. None of this is Tony’s problem, really, except then he looks around the room and wonders which of Peter’s boxes are holding his two blankets.

Tony was concerned about Rhodey, but he can’t stop himself.

“But I’m also gonna’ level with you—you’re not sleeping on the ground. You can take the couch.”

The until I get you a proper bed frame and mattress goes unsaid, but sometimes things like that are better as surprises. It’ll be a fun housewarming gift, Tony thinks, and by the time the shipment from IKEA arrives containing both of those things and the aforementioned missing dresser and desk, there will be a third roommate to help put it all together, not that either of them know it yet.

That night, Rhodey and Carol show up with enough ingredients for lasagna to serve four, and Tony delights in showing off Peter as they cook because now he has a “super cool roommate too! Take that, Platypus.”

Rhodey glances to Peter. “If you’re being held hostage, blink twice.”

“Hey!” Tony protests. He is a perfectly lovable roommate, thank you very much, and he’s so offended, he’s not even going to let Rhodey know about his mission to furnish Peter’s room.

God bless her, Carol just laughs.

The four of them get along with surprising ease, considering Peter’s only been around for a few hours. Peter even tries to help with the lasagna, but Tony has a near-photographic memory and has not remotely forgotten the popcorn incident, however vaguely it was described.

“You just sit there and be a nicer person than Rhodey,” he urges him, and Peter nods, hiding his grin behind his hand at the argument that starts.

Once everyone is done, he and Rhodey get suckered into dish duty while Carol spirits Peter off to the living room, claiming she has to warn him about what he’s getting into. Tony doesn’t care enough to complain, and when her back is turned, he splashes a plate of suds onto Rhodey’s front. 

Rather than rise to the bait, however, he raises his brows, slipping into what Tony affectionately calls his big-brother-giving-a-stern-talking-to mode. “You have to be a good example for him, Tones.”

Tony blinks. “I’m sorry, did you just say—”

“I’m serious!” They keep their voices mostly down, but Rhodey’s rises a bit with the declaration.

“He’s nineteen—an adult, in case you forgot. He signed the lease all on his own and everything,” he hisses back incredulously.

He thought he dodged the bullet by not disclosing just how underprepared Peter is to live in an apartment, but Rhodey’s head dips. Tony braces himself for the part of his big-brother-giving-a-stern-talking-to mode where he tells Tony he’s making a bullshit excuse and needs to get it together. “Don’t give me that. He’s a baby adult at best, and you know it.”

Yep, there it is.

“That’s still an adult!”

It is! Tony was on his own way earlier than nineteen. This is not a big deal, no matter how outlandish Peter’s circumstances are for moving out of NYU’s dorms.

“Watch his back.”

Tony scoffs. “It’s not like I was going to feed him to the wolves. I’m barely thirty—I’m not his dad.”

“Tony.”

Ah, the final, crushing blow of this version of Rhodey: his name—but with emphasis.

Tony sighs. “Fine,” he acquiesces. “I solemnly swear I will not let him get up to no good.”

A beat. Rhodey squints at him, slowly lowering the plate he’s holding into the sink. “You told me you refused to read Harry Potter.”

Shit.

Back when the books were first coming out, Rhodey was insufferably obsessed with them, and Tony loves him, but emotionally, he couldn’t handle having Rhodey think he was willing to discuss anything having to do with the series for longer than thirty seconds. Thus, he read the books—everyone in the world was doing the same, okay, and he cannot stand being out of the loop—but lied to Rhodey about it.

And now, he’s been made.

Rhodey and he launch into a very spirited discussion that draws Carol and Peter back to the kitchen, and despite the vein throbbing dangerously in Rhodey’s forehead, the promise has been made.

The day after Rhodey moves out, he and Peter manage to flood the bathroom.

In Tony’s defense, he only promised to look out for Peter. He said nothing about curbing his own dumbass tendencies, and it’s not like Bucky’s bedroom is all that damaged by the leak that Tony fixes before it’s really even a problem.

He and Peter settle into a nice sense of camaraderie, and Tony, content with his situation, forgets to take down his Craiglist ad that, logically speaking, someone would have to dig to find at this point, over a week after initially posting it.

Then, he receives a text that is as simple as it is effective: Is there still an available room in the apartment?

Enter the second offender: Stephen Strange.

Ahem, Doctor Stephen Strange, technically, but Tony has six PhDs. Nobody sees him going around making people call him Doctor Stark, and that’s because it makes him sound pretentious and stuffy, both things Tony prides himself on not being. However, Tony likes to push buttons, and very little gets Stephen worked up as fast as someone ignoring his credentials.

It’s a fun set-up, really, but annoying the piss out of Stephen is something that comes a little later—Tony’s not there yet in the story.

He humors the text, and after getting a read on things, he bursts into the living room, startling Peter nearly off the couch. He’s been doing his homework there and on the coffee table in front of it because the Swedish have many things but fast shipping is, apparently, not one of them, not that Peter knows there’s anything to be waiting on, but he’s getting off-topic.

Peter lets out a short yelp and presses a hand over his heart, both things that Tony ignores.

“We have a situation,” he announces.

“I swear I didn’t do it,” Peter defends pleadingly.

Tony is trying to teach him that messing things up is expected and, especially in particularly magnificent cases, admired in Casa Stark-Parker, but it’s a work in progress.

“I know you didn’t—don’t be ridiculous,” he waves his concerns off. “We are talking bigger than setting things on fire by accident. I bring you, my young protege, the proposition of—” A pause for dramatic effect. “—another roommate.”

“Ooh,” Peter says appropriately, setting his textbook down to examine the texts Tony brandishes. He begins to scroll, but while he does, Tony figures he can go ahead and fill him in on the essentials. It’s a very juicy situation, after all, and he can’t help himself.

“His name is Stephen Strange. He’s a neurosurgeon, but he got into a pretty bad car wreck that messed up his hands. He’s trying to save money while he goes to physical therapy—he apparently has a chance of recovery, but it’s a ways off—and that includes downsizing on where he lives.”

“I mean, yikes, but that’s an oddly specific backstory.”

“I’m glad you think that too, but I am intrigued. I looked him up, and he’s a real person—has a basically flawless reputation, or at least he did before his accident. Thoughts?”

Please say yes, please say yes, Tony thinks. The chance of a competent human—not including Rhodey, who looks more put together than he really is next to the chaos Tony perpetually dwells in—choosing to live with him is too fascinating to pass up, and he needs Peter to see that too.

Peter shrugs. “I’m down if you are. How old is he?”

Victory!

Satisfaction floods Tony, but he tries to maintain his cool.

“Thirty.”

Peter blows out a long breath, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling. “I didn’t anticipate moving into a nursing home,” he remarks dryly.

What a little shit.

It’s worth noting half the reason Rhodey left so easily is because he said he trusted Peter to keep Tony on his toes. Then again, that Tony likes being snarked at is a large part of why they get along so well despite only knowing each other for a matter of days.

“You’re the worst, Parker. I’m going to feed you to the hooligans downstairs. Steve has a monster appetite, you know.”

Peter hums, picking his textbook back up. “Not if I feed you to them first. And, Tony?”

“What?”

“Only old people say hooligans.”

Tony thinks about that one book, Give a Mouse a Cookie or whatever. Except in his case, it’s Rent a Teenager an Apartment, and Tony doesn’t have to adhere to the literary equivalent of a G-rating.

His response to the dig is creative and colorful, and Peter laughs.

Four days and a brief conversation at a coffee shop later—a formality he and Peter did not do and probably something Tony should’ve thought of as the older adult before giving him the address—Stephen’s team of movers invade the apartment.

The man himself stands like a drill sergeant at the last flights of stairs it takes to get to the apartment, arms crossed, beard wild, conducting activity.

Peter and Tony share their evaluations, peeking their head out from the doorway when it’s unoccupied by movers and Stephen isn’t looking their way. This involves quite a bit of ducking, but they are very careful not to be caught.

(Someone’s whose name may or may not rhyme with Tephen Trange later informs that “they were not at all subtle” and “were, in fact, very embarrassing”, but that’s how things with the three of them generally are, so Tony figures it was a good crash course to how life together goes.)

“He’s kind of scraggly,” Peter whispers, his head under Tony’s because he’s the shorter of the two of them, something Tony delights in refuting Peter’s quips about his age with.

“Kind of? He looks like a hobo.”

It’s true, okay? Facially, at least, the guy is a wreck. He’s not quite to Einstein levels of bad hair day, but he’s getting there.

“Be nice,” Peter chastises him. He’s gentler than Rhodey when he does it, but considering neither of them ever shut the hell up and they have thus bonded very easily over the course of their short relationship, it’s gotten to feel as natural as most of their interactions.

“All I’m saying is that I am happy to retain my place as the most attractive person in the apartment, okay?”

They’re forced to retreat from the entryway as another load comes through, and Peter looks at him disbelievingly. “Dream on,” he replies bluntly.

Tony gasps in offense.

Peter shrugs. “Look, I’m just gonna’ say it—you knew Rhodey before me, and now that I’m here—” he trails off, looking at Tony in faux-sympathy that doesn’t match the mischievous glint in his eyes.

While it is true that Rhodey is a fine specimen of a man—yet another reason Tony can’t, in good conscience, be truly angry Carol mooched him away from the bachelor lifestyle—Tony can’t cede that easily for the sake of his pride, and he scowls. “I am going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

They’re still bickering as the movers finish up and Stephen enters the apartment, dressed in what Tony recognizes as the latest from Armani and Tom Ford.

He may not get invited to fashion week anymore, but he still has taste, alright, even if Rhodey limits him to one designer purchase a month.

(Rhodey isn’t around to see what packages he orders now, Tony thinks but shelves the thought for later.)

Tony and Stephen met over coffee, and all three of them said hi to one another before the moving business officially began. However, there is a little stiffness in the air, make no mistake. It’s not Stephen’s fault, exactly, because he’s just kind of a foreboding guy, but still.

It figures that Peter would break the ice. As Tony’s found and will continue to discover, Peter is just as talkative as him. Granted, that trait usually appears in the form of rambling about something from class, but it’s not surprising that his natural passion for life comes through with someone about to be very, very involved in it. 

“Hi!” he begins. “Are all of the movers gone now?”

Stephen raises an unimpressed brow. “Yes.”

His reply is seriously lacking enthusiasm, but Tony isn’t allowed the opportunity to jump on that as Peter keeps going. 

“Sweet! Okay, so welcome to Casa Stark-Parker.”

Woah, woah, woah—timeout.

Tony frowns, raising a hand in a motion for Peter to stop. “I thought that was my thing?” he interjects.

“Well, it has my name in it, so it gets to be both of our things,” Peter replies, then furrows his brow, looking to Stephen. “Actually, since you’re here now, I guess it’s Casa Stark-Parker-Strange. Order’s based on who got here first, sorry,” he explains with a smile that Tony, now familiar with the fact that Peter has more to him than meets the eye, notes is a touch impish.

Tony is pleased to see, despite his generally wholesome appearance, the kid has at least picked up on the power of staking a claim.

Stephen blinks. His hands, Tony has noticed, don’t stop shaking, not even when he folds his arm across his chest, like a physical barrier between him and Peter’s excitement. “Okay?” he drawls slowly, confusedly.

“Tony’s rules, not mine,” Peter assures him as if he doesn’t just want the satisfaction of having his name not be the last in the line-up.

Tony scoffs. “Oh okay, so now we’re throwing me under the bus?”

“You have to take responsibility for your actions, Tony.”

“Oh, sure thing,” he replies, tone betraying that he does not, in fact, think any responsibility is at all necessary. He looks to Stephen, rolling his eyes. “Can you believe what I have to put up with? And it’s barely been a week.”

Stephen blinks again. “I see it’s a lot,” he says measuredly.

Peter gasps, unaffected. “Oh my God, we should make a sign for it,” he enthuses. “We can put it up on the door, and we’d be so much cooler than Sam and them.”

To say that Peter rose to the challenge of bothering their downstairs neighbors with zeal is something of an understatement. 

Tony is, honestly, a fan of the sign idea, especially if it were to light up, but that is where Stephen cuts in, his hands still trembling as he gestures. “Can we slow down for a moment?” He looks carefully from Tony and Peter and back again, bearing the appearance of a man in the throes of realizing he has made a bad decision. 

Tony knows that look well. It usually shows up when Rhodey agrees to one of Tony’s ideas and doesn’t realize just how badly constructed it is until it’s too late.

“First of all, I am fairly certain my car is parked illegally, and before we get too far, I need to fix it before I get towed. And secondly,” Tony watches Stephen’s lips curl in a self-satisfied, I-totally-think-I’m-better-than-you-even-if-I’m-not-technically-saying-it smile, “I am not here to be part of any Casa. I am waiting for physical therapy to work for me, and then I will be out of your hair. I appreciate being able to live here, but—”

Yeah, Tony’s had enough of that. Personally, he would like to thank Rhodey, who, in a way, begins and ends the story, and truly is the greatest best friend a man could have for teaching him how to properly deal with pompous rich people.

“Nuh-uh, none of that. If you’re living here, you’re a part of Casa Stark-Parker-Strange whether you like it or not.”

Stephen looks downright appalled that someone would dare to interrupt him, which, Tony knows from experience, is exactly the kind of shock rich people need to go through. He splutters for a second before he manages to get out a reply, “That was not in the lease.”

Tony spreads his hands as if to say what can you do? “And you didn’t mention in your texts that you were going to try to be a bump on a log, but here we are.”

Perhaps sensing the mounting animosity in the room or maybe just as excited as Tony to have someone to bother, Peter takes advantage of Stephen’s overwhelmed and bewildered state.

“First day with all three of us!” he shouts. “Picture!”

And before anyone can protest—including Tony, who would prefer to be documented in something other than a Black Sabbath tee and his work pants—Peter leans in with the camera on his phone ready to capture the moment.

In the resulting photo, Tony looks vaguely alarmed, Stephen looks pissed as hell, and Peter wears a grin that stretches across his whole face. The whole thing is blurry, and they eventually get it framed.

It’s a beautiful and fitting start to their time as roommates, and in the humble eyes of the asshole who posted the Craigslist ad, that is how the story of how they came to live together went.

[wildbootsappeared]

Continental Divides Chapter Discussion #7: The Prince of DevCo

Continental Divides isn’t exactly a feel-good story. I’m here because I have something to say about our world, and pokemon presents a lot of fun tools for unpacking current events in new ways. One of my big goals for the story is to humanize Archie and Maxie. I’m not out to make them look right, but I do want to present them as less obviously, stupidly wrong. The other side of that coin requires presenting a more tarnished version of Steven Stone than what we get in canon. Chapter 7: Stainless Steel is the first time DevCo shows its human face, but that’s not all there is to Steven Stone. Today I’m going to talk a little more about why I’ve chosen to represent him the way I do (and then recommend some more wholesome renditions of him as a palette-cleanser).

For me, most of the darkness in pokemon comes not from Edgy Teenage Boys and their Ash Betrayal fics but from canon, both what it does say and what it avoids saying. 

It’s clear to me that something is already awry in Hoenn--no one tries to summon a god to remake the world because everything is fine. Even if the Stones aren’t responsible for the current state of affairs, I’ve got some questions for Steven about power, privilege, and responsibility. And ORAS makes things worse.

I’m no canon purist--

--but for once I’m actually going to talk about what IS in the canon first, just a few things for your consideration:

Despite the emphasis on protecting the sanctity of nature (especially in Hoenn) and on renewables (like the wind turbines in HGSS’s Newbark and the solar pannels in Sunnyshore), the pokemon world also definitely has combustion engine vehicles, factories, refineries, and coal mines. (Not to mention at least 3 different evolutionary lines based on pollution.) Devon is canonically an energy company with a history of mining and resource extraction.

With all of that in combination, it didn’t feel like much of a stretch for me to rebrand DevCo as a fossil fuel company (especially given their links to literal fossils). 

I chose fossil fuels not because they’re maximum corporate evil and therefore maximum drama (though that’s also true!) but because I’m interpreting the Kyogre/Groudon clash as a climate change parable. Can’t talk about climate change without fossil fuels.

So where does that leave Steven?

He’s definitely a very nice and helpful guy. He gives the player character and the anime protagonists lots of cool swag, free pokemon, and occasional advice. He also doesn’t seem especially keen on following in his dad’s footsteps. (His dad can’t even get a letter to him without help from a passing traveler because Steven is hiding in a cave, goodbye. And in Emerald, a cave basically becomes his permanent residence!)

That’s all ... fine, but he’s also inarguably got access to a lot of money, social capital, and other resources. (I also thought I was joking when I gave Steven a shiny meta, but it turns out that’s canon, too.) So I’ve got some pointed questions for him about power and responsibility. In Emerald, he does step up to fight Magma with the player character, so he’s not just sitting on his hands. But the status quo doesn’t change. Whatever issues inspired Aqua and Magma are still there.

Some fic definitely depicts him stepping up to make a difference, even at his own expense. So other interpretations are totally possible. It wouldn’t be hard to write him as a rich kid trying to rebel against daddy and struggling figure out how to use his wealth and influence for good. But I’m most interested in a version of him that fails to unpack his privilege or put his money where his mouth is, because ... that’s the world I live in.

Two of my biggest sources of inspiration for writing Divides!Steven: 

1) This podcast about Don Trump Jr and his (surprise!) bad relationship with his dad. 

One thing that really struck me was how Donjr’s disinterest in business pushed him into outdoor hobbies like hunting (which reminds me of Steven’s spelunking, rock-collecting, and training). Like Steven has built a name for himself through the Elite Four, Donjr. leveraged his new hobbies to build political capital with conservatives. And, of course, the daddy issues here are horrifying and fascinating. Worth a listen if you can stomach hearing about Trump.

2) Gansey from The Raven Boys.

Gansey is as charming and generous as he is rich. He bemoans being reduced to his status, yet he can’t help being blinded by his own privilege, spending money without thought and repeatedly failing to consider how his words and actions might affect the characters who do worry about money. He tries, but he doesn’t always succeed in keeping his foot out of his mouth. He’s also hunting a kind of treasure, the tomb of an ancient king who may be magically alive after thousands of years. Oh, and he loves cars.

Here are a few tasty Gansey quotes from the series that I’ve been saving since last January (probably not quite exact quotes because I typed them on my phone while I read):

The world turns out its pockets for you.

Dizzyingly important to him in a way that he couldn’t begin to understand its shape. It was something more, something bigger, something that mattered. Something without a price tag. Something earned.

I am my money--it’s all anyone ever sees.

His feelings for [her] were an oil spill. He’d let them overflow and now there wasn’t a damn place in the ocean that wouldn’t catch fire if he dropped a match.

Divides is interested in what happens when that treasure-hunting has a political context. 

--

Alllllllllll that said, one of the fun things about fic is seeing lots of different interpretations of the same characters. For Steven Stans, I highly recommend Wolfyn. She’s great at writing this boy into peril. He’s not an idiot, but he sure does make some stupid decisions and then pay the price. “The Long Road” is an achnronological origin story, showing his journey from a smol kiddo to the champion we all know. “Final Gambit” explores what happens in a world where there’s no player character to save the day. And in “Deal with the Devil” ... Steven has a bad time, but you’ll have a good time reading it.

Some Chapter 7 music (links to Spotify):

- Easy by Son Lux

- Risingson by Massiveattack

- Currency by the Black Angels

- The Orb by Emile Mosseri

[meepmorpperaltiago]

The Machine

Aka Jake and Amy travel through all my aus! This is a totally cracky idea I had to celebrate reaching 80 fics - I hope you enjoy this 2k crackfest of insanity!  

Neither of them notice at first when the machine shows up in the precinct. No one knows what it is or what it does anyway -  a group of officers stand around, trying not to press any of the buttons, not knowing whether or not it’s something dangerous.

It catches Jake’s gaze as he walks past on his way to see Amy, with its round shape, big buttons and silver shine and he asks the officers what it is.

“We don’t know”, his wife responds with a shrug, getting up and going over to the place where half of her beat cops are currently gathered. “Some crazy drunk guy who kept trying to tell us he was from a parallel world had it with him. It has all these buttons but we can’t figure out what any of them do.”

“Well you know what the best way is to find out what something is?”, Jake asks, taking Amy’s hand as he goes to push the biggest button, right in the centre.

“Jake no!”, Amy exclaims before a clap of lightning strikes and they’re thrown to the ground.

 “Jake what the hell!”, Amy yells. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know what to tell you Ames, I see a button and I have to push it”, Jake responds with a shrug, hoping to win over Amy with a smile.

“Even Mac would know not to push that button and he’s 6 months old!”, she sighs, before getting up and looking around.

They appear to be in a large mall and other than it being unfamiliar, nothing about their location seems to be particularly amiss. Until, after deciding to explore a little to try and figure out where on earth they are, they walk into a record store with a name they don’t recognise and see Amy’s face plastered all over a prominently placed CD stand. Clear as day, it reads at the bottom “Amy Santiago: Sugar – 05/18/20”

Jake’s face lights up at the sight. “You know what this means?” he says to Amy with excitement, grabbing her arms.

“That one of us hit our head real hard and is hallucinating?”, Amy says.

“No – this is a parallel universe! Excuse me maa’m, could you tell me a little more about this album?”, Jake says, stopping one of the people working in the store as they go past.

She gives him a strange look before speaking slowly. “You mean the new Amy Santiago album? Her 11th and first in like 2 years? Well, it’s been pretty hyped up, we’re thinking it’s gonna sell a lot.”

“Why has she not done an album in two years?” Amy then asks, growing curious whether this is some kind of crazy fever dream or not and slightly concerned for this parallel version of herself that she’s just heard of.

“Well, she was kind of busy planning and then doing her year-long residency at Madison Square Garden…” the woman says, as if that’s something everyone knows.

Both of their eyes grow wide at that – the woman decides that the two of them are both just crazy and leaves them be with a quick excuse.

“Wait, if I’m some kind of big celebrity here, how come I’m not like, being mobbed or something?”, Amy asks.

“Uh, I think I know why”, Jake says, staring into his reflection on the front of the CD. Amy looks too and that’s when she realises: they look completely different.

“The machine must create some kind of filter”, Jake says whilst reading the track list.

“Come on, let’s try and find that machine and figure out how to get home,” Amy says, walking out of the store.

“Come on Ames, aren’t you at least a little bit curious about how all this happened? Don’t you wanna explore a little?”, he says, gesturing to her glammed-up image on the cardboard.

“Yeah, I guess I am a little curious…”, Amy says as Jake drags her away.

-           

Hours later, they’re sat by the machine, having played the entire Amy Santiago Essentials Playlist on Apple Music whilst looking for it and googling both of them (Jake was slightly disappointed to find out that he’s still just an ordinary guy in this universe).

“Wow Ames, other you made some bops, even though it does seem like she had a nervous breakdown doing it.”

“Yeah, it seems like she didn’t have a fun time for a while…”, Amy says distractedly, whilst eyeing up the big button that brought them here in the first place. “Lets hope this can bring us home”, she then says, before pressing the button in the centre and triggering another zap.

-

This time, they land on a beach – they both share a disappointed look, realising that they’re still not home.

“I wonder what’s different about this universe? Am I in a rock band?”, Jake says, only half joking.

Then they see a tail coming out of the water and realise they’re in a world even stranger than the last one.

When mermaid Amy sees them, she quickly dives under the water with a scared look on her face.

Stopped in their confusion, then they see a very relaxed Jake coming out of a nearby house and realise they can’t escape meeting themselves. Even if the other versions of them won’t know who they’re talking to.

Without even realising who they are, other Jake still looks at them with surprise “Sorry, it’s just we don’t get a lot of people on this beach”, he explains.

“We?”, Amy questions.

“Oh my wife and I. It’s kind of nice that it’s so quiet – then again that’s not always worked out great for me…”

Neither of them inquire into this rather strange comment which clearly has a story behind it, as a now two legged Amy comes out from a nearby cliff.

“Did they see me?”, she asks her Jake in a whisper that’s probably not as quiet as she’d like it to be.

Feeling awkward, original Jake and Amy make a move to leave, but Amy slips and accidently presses a button further down. Given the looks that their alternative selves give them, something must have messed with the perception filter. Then other Jake says it, in a slightly surprised voice.

“You’re… us”

“Yep”, Jake says, feeling very awkward. “That machine has kind of been taking us through all these different wild scenarios…”

“Wait, why aren’t you more shocked?”, Amy asks.

He responds with a shrug, saying: “Well, I married a mermaid, my life is already wild enough”

“Jake!”, mermaid Amy says, elbowing him with a whisper. Clearly this is some kind of secret that he was supposed to keep.

“Come on babe, it’s us”, he points out to his Amy.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right”, she admits.

Jake finally asks the question he’s been itching to ask ever since he realised him and Amy are still together in this world. “How did you two meet anyway?”

That’s how they end up sat chatting to their alternate selves, exchanging stories and comparing their wildly different life experiences. They both love each other’s stories, although the mermaid one is of course slightly more strange. 

“Do you still miss being a cop?”, Jake asks the other version of him as he draws patterns in the sand.

“Y’know, I did for a really long time… but now I’m ok”. He smiles softly at his Amy when he says that, bumping her shoulder slightly and it warms Jake’s heart a more than a little bit.

-

“Ames, you’re basically Ariel here!”, Jake says excitedly whilst the other versions of them head back their beach house.

“I know!”, Amy says as she once again pushes that darn button.

-

They still don’t end up back at the precinct. This time, they end up in a place that seems distinctly… historical.

This time, they figure out their story with a simple look at a newspaper. The headline reads “SANTIAGO SCANDAL AS LADY AMEILA ELOPES WITH SERVANT”

“Amy… you gave up everything for me…”, Jake says, moved by the sacrifice that the other version of his wife made as he looks at the front page article in more detail. Amy simply reads along with him, resting her head on his shoulder unsurprised – she’d definitely have done the same thing.

-

They’re in a cheering crowd and they see themselves high up on a balcony. The other versions of them wave elegantly, with a boy in tow that looks distinctly like an older version of the baby who waits for them at home. It makes their hearts ache a little and increases their determination to get home. But first, they look at their phones to figure out how the heck they became royalty in this world.

Jake smiles as he imagines Amy going through the awkward process of becoming a princess: but then again, he can imagine she would make a great ruler. And she definitely has the beauty part down.

“Do you think we could just break that filter thingy again and chuck these guys down some stairs?”, Jake says in a joking tone.

“Jake we can’t murder ourselves, let alone assassinate royalty”, Amy says in a hushed tone and with a giggle.

-

As they keep pushing the button, they go through more and more scenarios.

“You had kids with Teddy?”

“I had a kid with Sophia?”

“Are we British here? What the heck are prefects?”

“Oh my god, we have such cool powers here!”

“Our kid has such cool powers here!”

“Gina and I are openly friends here? Rosa willingly sings on stage? And we’re in a girl band? This is weirder than our kid going to Hogwarts honestly” 

“What the hell? We’re nowhere near cool enough to be Youtubers”

“How come I was the one who got Thanos snapped?”

“We all go to jail here? That’s a bummer”

“Fuck is this the Handmaid’s Tale? Oh man, this is even more of a bummer than the we all go to jail universe”

“Ooooh we’re both suffragettes?” “But you being in World War One is sucky”

“Oh god I love Chidi and Eleanor, I’m so glad we got to be them”

“Teddy proposing to you again, what a surprise”

“Oh my god, Jake this is like that one tv show we watched, the one with all the fairy-tales”

“Even more fairy tales! I hope this Amy wakes up that Jake soon”

-

In a second, they zap onto a darkened Brooklyn street and Jake looks up to see all of his dreams come true. There he is, up on a building in a white shirt, grappling rope in hand, filling the role of his hero, John Mclane. But in his excitement, he steps back, pushes the button and they zap away before he can see himself saving the day.

“Ugh, why can’t I ever do anything badass?”, he complains with a stomp of his foot as they seem to land back in the precinct. After checking that everything is definitely still the same, they realise they’ve spent an entire day hopping from world to world and they finally head home. Then Amy makes a curious observation.

“It’s so weird how some of those stories just never finished huh? Like someone was too lazy to finish them off or lost interest?”

-

“You know what I really loved about seeing all those different worlds?”, Jake asks as they snuggle together on the couch later that night, having put Mac down to sleep in the nursery.

“What?”, Amy asks, looking up at her husband with a curious gaze.

“In every universe, we always managed to come together. Even in worlds where you were a superstar, or we were in different classes, different ages and nationalities or you were another freakin’ species. We’re soulmates in literally every scenario.”

Amy smiles at that and simply kisses him in response.

“I guess we really were just meant to be”, she says as she falls asleep on his shoulder.

“I think so too,” he says in response before following suit.

[amoristt]

Grazing the Fire | Nathan x Reader

disclaimer: i know nathan is not a good person. i am not putting a blanket over his actions in this fic. i, the writer, understand he’s not an innocent character and has made many terrible choices. im just answering people’s requests, please dont put me under the fire for it.

thank you.

Anonymous asked: please can you write about the reader meeting nathan for the first time? maybe they can become friends?

woohoo my first fic! im so excited to post this despite knowing it probably wont get much attention... either way to the people who DO read this i hope you enjoy the read! reblogs and replys are more than welcomed (it would make my entire life, god bless).

put under a read more for length. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warning: Language

want to support me? here’s my ko-fi!

The first time you saw him was in the dead of night, sitting on top of a picnic table with his head in his hands, a rather expensive looking camera residing next to him. He wasn’t moving much but you could tell he was stressed; shoulders hunched and his fingers occasionally pulling at his brown hair. The street lamp above him illuminated his figure and if you hadn’t already heard the rumors of the infamous Nathan Prescott you would’ve had some mind to reach out. Though this was the first time you’d actually seen him you knew it was the asshole rich kid your friends had gossiped about. You being new to Arcadia Bay seemed to grace you with not knowing him or his family, and maybe it also offered a second opinion as well. You hadn’t talked to him, seen what he’s ‘capable of’, so seeing him looking like he was seconds away from a breakdown made you wonder if he was truly the evil bastard everyone painted him out to be.

While you wanted to talk to him the fear of being yelled at was too much. Instead to sat where you always were in cool nights- at the edge of some hefty rocks and hoping Principle Wells wouldn't find you outside your dorm. It wasn’t smart to be out after hours, especially so close by, but usually you didn’t care. You valued your alone time.

Nathan left barely 20 minutes after you saw him and to your dismay he noticed you too. You couldn’t see his eyes from how far away you were but you could feel them- that cold stare. He probably thought you were watching him. Still, he seemed to spare you an argument, and disappeared into the night.

The second time you saw him you began to understand why Nathan Prescott certainly was a force to be reckoned with. While waiting in the parking lot for one of your friends you happened to see him storm out of the front door of Blackwell Academy, fire in his eyes that managed to clear a path of all the other students trying to leave. He raced straight past you and instead confronted a brunette girl you hadn’t met before. Whatever sorrow he was experiencing the previous night was replaced with venom and hate, and thought you couldn’t hear the words he was saying judging by the girl's face they weren’t too friendly.

Growing uneasy at the scene starting to play out before you, you pushed off the front of your car and shifted your weight, wondering if you should intervene. However that thought was sent out the window when a boy you also hadn’t met before tried to lay his hands on Nathan, therefore only earning a headbutt that sent him straight to the ground. You gasped, watching his body thud and his hands move to cradle the wound. The girl, to her friends defense, roughly pressed at Nathan's shoulder and he immediately retaliated by placing his hands on her throat, forcibly backing her up a few feet as his voice grew in volume. A few of the other students in the parking lot took note of the commotion but they all seemed to be in your position- both too scared and shocked to do anything.

Luckily none of you had to do anything. A truck barreled past all the parked cars and narrowly stopped just in time to avoid running the two students over, and in an instant the girl managed to free herself from Nathan’s grip and thanks to the heroic sacrifice of her friend who’d gotten back up taking a few more blows from him the girl was able to climb into the truck before it sped away, leaving behind a fuming and shouting Prescott.

Someone seemed to find it in themselves to take some sort of action, another student you had never met before running over to the two boys and kneeling beside the nerdy looking one on the ground. You could see the patches of red on his face but not the actual wounds. Nathan stared down at him like a predator but decided against attacking again, turning on his heel and stomping away while muttering things to himself. He passed by you again on his way back inside the building he saw you through the corners of his eyes and this time you were close enough to see everything first hand. His eyes narrowed at you before recognition took over, and he scoffed, mumbled something along the lines of ‘fuck off’ and then made his way back inside.

Your friend came out not minutes later, looking behind her as she made her way to you.

“Holy shit,” She said. “Did you see Nathan back there? He looked like he was going to kill someone!”

You just nodded, still staring at the doorway like he was going to come back out of it. Perhaps those rumors were more than true. He did seem to be rather violent and that was only a few minutes worth of a fight- you couldn’t imagine what it be like to be one of his enemies.

Hopping into your car with your friend right beside you, you made a mental note. Stay out of Nathan Prescott's way.

It seemed as though life did not agree with your new plan.

Since you had only been in Arcadia Bay for little over two weeks now there were still many places you still hadn't visited yet, and one of them was the frequently suggested diner ‘Two Whales’. From what you could see standing outside the building it was a cute restaurant, the logo of the two whales making you smile to yourself. Inside was how you expected it to be- small but not empty with a nice layout. Cozy. You chose a window booth and nested against the edge, staring out the window and taking in the aesthetic of a small but lively town.

“Can I start with you anything to drink?” A voice asked, pulling you from your thoughts. The waitress, a blond, stood at the end of your table with a note pad and warm smile.

“Just a water for now, please.” You answered. She nodded and didn’t bother writing anything down.

“No problem sweetheart.”

You turned back to the window when the waitress left you be, and low and fucking behold, the one person you’d been avoiding for days now appeared from the edge of your vision and, upon somehow seeing you from across the street through the window looking at him, B lined it for the diner.

Something about him staring directly at you before making his way over had your stomach rolling in it’s spot, your nerves starting to light up. He shoved the diner’s doors open up and you kept your head down, hand resting on your forehead to avoid eye contact. Unfortunately it didn’t work as Nathan slid right into your booth, staring you down from across the table. You looked up at him from your brows and cringed at his obvious anger.

“Alright,” He hissed, resting his hands on the table and leaning in. “I don’t know who the fuck you are but stop fucking following me or you’ll regret it, got it?”

You frowned and met his heated gaze. “What?”

“‘What’?’ He mocked. “Don’t fucking ‘what’ me, bitch. I’ve got eyes all over this shithole of a town and apparently you do too. Mind your fucking business, capische?”

“I’m not following you!” Leaning forward as well you stared at him in disbelief. He leaned back and shook his head, laughing. You took in the few heads turning in your direction and softened your tone. “I’m not following you.”

“Yeah right. I’ve seen you how many fucking times this week, all the time staring at me, watching me like I’m some sort of freak show?”

“We go to the same school, asshole.” At the sharpness of your tone he narrowed his eyes again.

“Really? So what were you doing out in the middle of the night last week?”

“None of your business, that’s what.”

“Hate to say it but bitchy little stalkers are my business.” He turned his head as the waitress came with your water, setting it down and looking at you with a confused expression.

“Everything okay here, sweetheart?” She asked you. You licked at your lips and debated telling her that you were being harassed, but you didn’t even get a chance to answer.

“We’re fine, Joyce.” He said with a fake smile and sarcastic tone. She shifted her weight and stared at him for a moment, then you, then him, almost as though she was torn. Eventually she did give into him though, nodding before letting a sigh escape her lips.

“Alrighty then.” She turned to you. “Let me know when you’re ready to order.”

You nodded and looked back down at your lap, and when she left Nathan once again found his intimidating pose in leaning forward. Despite the both of you sitting you felt so much smaller than him.

“You have no fucking clue what you’re dealing with,” He growled in a hushed tone. “Stay out of my way or else.”

“Why are you so angry all the time?” You suddenly asked, and it caught him off guard. You looked up at him. “I’ve seen you twice in the two weeks I’ve been here for. In what fucking world does that count as ‘stalking’ you?”

He scoffed and balled his fists. For the first time it felt like you got him as no response came out, just a pissed off glare. Finally he spoke up again, standing up and scowling down at you.

“Just stay away from me.”

With that the wildfire of a human being stepped away from your table, not looking back as he pushed the doors open and exited with diner. The few people who watched him go turned to look back at you and for a moment your face heated at probably looking like an ass. When the waitress did return, oddly kind with you, you randomly chose the first thing you saw on the menu.

You did not enjoy your meal.

Despite having been sincerely warned to stay out of Nathan Prescott’s ‘fucking way’ the angel guiding your life seemed to not care whatsoever about your well being. After talking with him face to face that first time you tried your hardest to not see him, not talk to him, not cross paths, but it felt like you were just seeing him more and more. You locked eyes in hallways, bumped shoulders walking in and out of classrooms, and at one point he almost hit you with his car while you were walking through the parking lot. Even outside school it was as though you couldn’t be anywhere without seeing his car, seeing him walking, or even entering the same place as him. Thankfully he didn’t feel the need to threaten you again, however. In return you hauled ass the moment he arrived or changed direction upon seeing him.

As much as he scared you it was almost comical how ironic it was given he’d warned you to stay away from him and as fate would have it you only ran into each other more often. He seemed equally pissed each time but hadn’t yelled at you save for a few ‘watch where you're fucking going’s here and there.

You were waiting for your friend after class once again, leaning against the front of your car while idly messing around on your phone. Most of the students had cleared out now, the parking lot fairly empty except for the teachers who hung around after class and those who had in school assignments to be spending their time on. Your friend was one of those people unfortunately, and you were her ride, so you were stuck in waiting for her to be done with whatever it was her teacher was making her do for just some measly extra points.

However you grew bored and groaned, eyes scanning over the door in hopes she would just magically walk out and you could go home for the day. You shoved your phone in your pocket and pushed off your car, kicking at some rocks beneath your feet and wondering where you should walk off too to waste time. In the distance you could see those rocks you had been sitting at nights ago and they looked as welcoming as they had the first time, so you pulled your phone out, shot your friend a quick text, and made your way over to them. You’d still be doing almost nothing but at least this way you had a nice view.

As you walked across the parking lot and stepped into the grass you could hear a commotion nearby. Fear struck at your heart at the thought of there being yet another fight on campus grounds. When you pinpointed the area you’re curiosity got the better of you and you came closer, barely brushing by one of the few parked cars. Not far away you could see two people- one of them you recognized to be Nathan, and the other looked like some sort of security guard. They were arguing, and for once you were actually witnessing Nathan being the one who get’s his ass chewed out. He seemed to be arguing back, however, hands balled into fists and shoulders tense. You didn’t dare get closer in fear that you’d get roped into the argument but as your luck would have it the security guard looked up from the teen and right at you. He pointed a finger.

“You,” He hollered. “New kid! Get over here!”

Nathan turned at the man’s words, looking to see who he was referring to. When he found it was you for a moment his eyes widened and then they rolled, his expression utterly annoyed. “She’s got nothing to do with this.” You heard him say as you slinked closer.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure.” The man said sarcastically. Cursing at yourself for being so nosy you slowly made your way to the pair, heart thudding in fear that you’d get in trouble for something you never did. It seemed like that was a growing pattern as of late.

When you stood beside Nathan you looked at him through the corners of your eyes and he huffed.

“There’s no point in lying. I know you two are involved somehow.” The security started bluntly. Both you and Nathan gaped at him. “Now, you two have been trying to keep it down but you can’t fool me none. Where one of you is, the other is always around. I’m not sure what it is you two are planning just yet but know I will find out.”

“Me and Nathan?” You said in disbelief. “We barely know each other!”

“Don’t you give me that missy. I see everything, and it’s only a matter of time before I know everything too.”

“You’ve got it so fucking wrong,” Nathan grumbled, rubbing his hands over his face in irritation. “You all think you’re some fucking detectives but you don’t know anything.”

“Then enlighten me, Prescott.” The guard challenged, overlooking his crude language.

Nathan sneered at him. “How about instead I’ll have my dad fucking fire you.”

Mentally you were rolling your eyes at the ‘my daddy will get you’ card but on the outside you were staring at the ground, not wanting to get in between their very obviously person argument. Some part of you was wondering how this came to be, how the choices in your life led you to be mistaken for not only Nathan’s friend, but his accomplice in whatever the hell he was doing. You wished you could disappear.

“We’re not friends.” You dared to mumble, half of you wanting to be assertive and the other half wanting to stay silent and get this over with already.

“Really?” He asked skeptically, obviously not believing your statement. “Then explain why you’re always together.”

“We aren’t, you ass.” Nathan grumbled.

“Well I didn’t ask you now, did I?”

You swallowed, trying to think of a way out of this. An idea popped into your head and you prayed that it would suffice enough to get not only you but also Nathan out of this situation. He was a jerk and you hoped to never see him again but you could also tell this guard made him just as uneasy as you.

“We’re partners for a project. We can’t go to one another’s houses so instead we’ve been trading information back and forth between classes.”

The guard narrowed his eyes, biting at the inside of his cheek. “How come you don’t go to each others houses. Ain’t that whats projects are for?”

“Like I said,” you began, looking at Nathan then turning your gaze back to the guard. “We aren’t friends.”

The guard took a few moments to bounce the thought in his head. For a moment you were terrified he would catch you in your lie since you didn’t have classes together and he obviously knew where you were at most times, but it seemed being new to the school was a benefit. He hadn’t yet figured out all your classes.

“This true?” He asked, turning his attention to an oddly silent Nathan.

Nathan offered a glance before nodding. “Sure is.”

For a few moments the guard didn’t say anything or leave, looking at the two of you back and forth. Finally he huffed in what sounded like some sort of defeat, straightening his back. “Very well then. You two are free to go for now. I’ve got my eye on you.”

The thought of being watched by the school's head of security was something you did not want to be always thinking about but you took the leave, quietly thanking him and turning on your heel to get the hell out of there. You heard feet following behind you, then a hand grasping at your shoulder.

You stopped, turned, and groaned to see Nathan. “Look just leave me alone, man. I didn’t want to get involved I swear.”

“That was a good lie,” He said to your surprise. “Sucks to know he’s gonna figure out you’re full of shit, though.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “You too, asshole. Leave me alone.”

“No, no, no,” He raced to get in front of you, stopping you from trying to walk away from him. “Madison doesn’t fucking stop, and when he figures out you lied to him,” he faked an exaggerated laugh. “You’re in for some shit now.”

“What, are you warning me?” You asked, glaring at him and trying to pass. He stepped in front of you again.

“I’m just telling you the next time you think I need your help at least think of a lie that’s got some fucking substance.”

You stared at him. “Are you serious? You think I did that because you needed my help? I did it because that guy scares me and I wanted to get away. I couldn’t care less if you did or didn’t get in trouble.”

Nathan shoved his hands into his pockets, that same silently dangerous expression coming back. He took a few steps towards you, staring you down while you took a few hesitant steps back. Just like back in the diner you felt tiny both on mind and stature compared to him, even if he was built like a twig. For a moment you were scared he was going to hit you but the movement never came.

“Don’t expect the favor to be returned.” He said sharply. “And watch your back.”

He turned his back on you before you could even think of a reply.

Like before a few days passed, each day feeling longer than the last. The length of your classes were awful and in between them when you should have been conversing with friends you were instead watching over your shoulder, heart dropping when you’d occasionally see Madison watching the crowds of teens from the corner of the hallways. The upside, however, was that you were seeing less of Nathan. According to your friend he had been skipping classes of late, getting into some real ‘deep’ trouble. You didn’t tell your friends about your run in’s with Nathan since you knew their stance on him. He was a rich kid asshole, he was a villain, an irredeemable dickhead. The rumors were true, he was all those things. But at the same time he was also… More. You couldn’t place it. He’d been nothing but bad to you but all those time he’d looked into your eyes, mustering up the darkest expression you’d ever seen, you’d also seen something among the hate.

Hurt.

You didn’t let that change your opinion of him, however. You’d be happy to not have to see him ever again. Just… some stupid part of you wished you could get to know him a bit more, maybe even get on his good side if he had one. But those thoughts were quickly brushed away when you remembered how so far every single run in you’d had with him was nothing but bad.

Sitting on the rocks, that picnic table he had sat at only a few yards away, you sighed. Scribbles, song lyrics, and random phrases littered the pages of the notebook you held, partially hard to see thanks to the setting sun. From the school yard you could hear a few students talking, a few others shouting and laughing. Friday was always a day all the students enjoyed and stomached willingly staying after class to discuss weekend plans. You, however, just wanted to get some peace and quiet. Sure you loved your friends and most of your classmates but you needed some alone time to think about academics and ‘other’ things. Most of the thoughts you had were settled down to pen and paper, the other half just buried. Good times.

“Isn’t that the new girl?”

Though you hadn’t been listening in on the conversations before this particular line, spoken from a male, caught your attention. Another male, who you assumed was his friend, laughed in amusement.

“I think it is.”

Muscles tensing you prayed they wouldn’t talk to you but you could hear them getting closer, small snickers and audible shoves getting louder. Eventually two hefty shadows came to rise behind you.

“What’cha drawing?” One sang, and in response you leaned forward a bit and quickly tried to fold your notebook shut. Before you could, however, a hand snatched it away from you. Immediately you shifted to turn around atop your rock, standing up and staring up at the person in front of you. Him and his friend were football players, wearing their varsity jackets and ugly grins. “Come on,” he sang, grabbing one end of the cover so the rest fell open. You reached for it and he lifted his hands, his height not allowing you take it back. “Ah, ah, ah, share with the class!”

“Give it back.” You demanded, frowning. You never considered yourself entirely weak but fighting two large football players was definitely out of the question. Strength alone was not going to get you your stuff back.

“Why?” His friend laughed, taking a turn in flipping through the pages. “You hiding some pervy drawings in there?” His friend laughed and made a ‘scandalized’ expression.

Face heating, you crossed your arms.

“You totally are!” He said at your reaction. You leapt forward and tried to catch him off guard but failed.

“No, I’m not!” You yelled as you regained your footing. “I just don’t appreciate giant dicks looking through my stuff!”

The first male, a blond, made a cat’s meow. “Giant dicks, huh?”

You crossed your arms again, not answering.

“I’m sure you’d love some giant dick,” his friend taunted. He shook your notebook and stared at it, then you. “How about we make a deal?”

The blond, at his friend's words, whistled and laughed. You, however, were not nearly as happy as he was. Both in shame and also anger you were blushing furiously, hands shaking. You suddenly wished you hadn’t told your friends you needed some alone time. The males suggestion made your stomach churn.

“What if I say no?” You managed out through your tensed jaw. He tossed some ideas around in his mind, head moving from shoulder to shoulder. He suddenly grinned widely then pulled a lighter out from his pocket. You gasped and almost jumped at the thought of him burning it. He saw the fear in your eyes and snickered.

“So,” he hummed. “What’s it gonna be?”

“How about you leave her the fuck alone?” A voice suddenly piped. All three of you were shocked by the interruption and the pair of boys turned, you looking past them. Your throat went dry at the sight.

“Nathan?” The blond gasped, thrilled at the sight of him standing with his hands shoved into his pockets.

“My man!” The blonds friend shouted, turning his back to the Prescott and then taking a few steps back in order to loosely hang an arm around his shoulder. “You got here just in time! The fun was just about to start!”

However Nathan did not seem to be nearly as amused and gleeful as the two players were. He shoved the boy off of him with what almost seemed like disgust, leaving the other staring at him in confusion. He slowly made his way around the player, seeming to separate you from them.

“Back off,” He growled, turning so his back faced you. “And I said leave her alone.”

The two boys traded glances and the blond forced a laugh.

“Seriously?” He asked with a rose brow. “You’re defending some no name?”

“Did I fucking stutter?” Nathan retaliated, and you could tell he had his eyes narrowed in that same threatening way.

Once again the pair glanced at each other before the one holding your notebook seemed to give in, obviously knowing something you didn’t about Nathan. He tossed your notebook on the ground roughly and then put his hands up as they both backed away, turned, and left while mumbling things under their breath.

With your notebook at his feet, Nathan kicked it in front of you. “Grow a backbone.” He grumbled while you bent down to pick it up and brush the dirt from the covers. You huddled it to you chest.

“They’re both almost a foot taller than me! ‘Grow a backbone’, they’d kill me!”

“They’re all talk. Everyone here is, you should keep your fucking eyes open.”

You frowned and stared down at the ground, the tip of your foot kicking at some of the blades of grass. “Why did you step in?”

Somehow through your hushed tone he still heard you and leaned his head onto one shoulder. “Consider it your only thanks for ‘sargent madison’. He hasn’t bothered either one of us yet so it seems like you're awfully thought out lie worked.”

You licked at your lips and looked up at him, and sure enough he looked just as angry as always. However you did take note that for once this time the anger wasn't directed at you. Still, you decided to poke the bear.

“I thought you said to not expect the favor to be returned.”

He squinted at you and then scoffed. “How do you know I just don’t like bullying jocks?”

“Because if you were bullying them you wouldn’t have done it in my defense.”

“Don’t say shit like you know what I’m doing.”

“Alright then, what were you doing?”

His hands tightened in his pockets and you felt that same wave of danger again. “You are such a bitch, you know that?” He hissed. “I fucking save your pathetic ass from a couple of nobodies and instead of thanking me you analyse me.  Newsflash, ___, I don’t need you to be trying to fucking figure me out.”

You stared at him for a few moments, his words seeming to fly right over your head. The things he was saying were making no sense, and it suddenly struck you that perhaps he was venting in some way.

“I wasn’t analyzing you.” You stated, taking a moment to sit back down on the rocks.

“Why not?” He huffed. “Everyone else is!”

“Because I’m not your therapist.”

His pointed expression seemed to soften for just a moment and he looked away from you, sighing. “Good. I don’t need your help.”

Again, you had no idea what he was talking about, but it was very apparent something more was going on with him. You decided to not take him so personally.

“Then you won’t get it.” You flipped through your notebook to make sure everything was still intact. “You’re clearly capable of taking care of yourself.” You weren’t looking at him but you could tell he had his eyes on you again. In your thinking, however, something seemed to strike you. You looked up at him. “How did you know my name?”

At first he didn’t answer, instead just glaring down at you. Then he shrugged. “Madison.”

“No,” You shook your head. “Madison only called me ‘missy’. He never said my name.”

He grunted. “I’m not sure what the fuck you’re on but we sort of go to school together.”

“Yeah and we don’t share a single class. We’ve never even talked before aside from you threatening me in the diner.” For a moment it seemed like he forgot about that instance, and then when he remembered he ran a hand through his hair. “So tell me, how did you figure out my name. You don’t seem like the type to go around asking people.”

“None of your business, that’s how.” He grumbled.

“Hate to say it but angry stalkers sort of are my business.” You stood from the rock and slowly stalked towards him. At mocking his statement from the diner he eyed you with an odd expression, one you hadn’t ever seen before. For once he seemed like he was on the other end of the stick, shoulders tense in defense but no words leaving his lips. Even though he was taller than you he still seemed smaller than you’d ever seen him, like you’d caught him red handed. The question was what you caught him for in the first place.

“I told you before, I have eyes everywhere.” He finally answered, but it was weak.

“Nice cop out.” You said, then sighed, a twinkle of amusement in your eye. “You were asking around about me, weren’t you?”

He rolled his eyes and grunted again, taking a step back and shaking his head. “You are so full of it.”

“You are too.”

Nathan remained silent and you did too, the both of locked in a strange feeling moment.

He was the first to break it, however, turning his head away and wiping at his mouth impulsively. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“You told me that already.”

“And I fucking meant it. Shit’s serious, got it?”

“What,” you started incredulously. “And you’re worried I’ll get hurt?”

“Jesus christ, ___,” He huffed. “Is this some sick game to you?” He turned his back to you and then rolled his shoulders. You shifted your weight and looked back down at your now safe notebook. He’d been the one to stand up for you thankfully, and even though it sort of creeped you out to think he’d been watching you as of late, you still couldn’t help but feel just a tad special. Nathan Prescott had gone out of his way to save you from the big bad bullies.

“Whatever’s going on,” You dared to start, now feeling a bit bashful. “thank for you helping me.”

He turned back towards you and sighed, his edges once again starting to soften. He truly was a firecracker of a person, someone who could cycle between emotions like they were on and off switches.

“Yeah,” He huffed. “Whatever. Just don’t go telling stories to all your little hipster friends.”

“Sure thing. Last thing you’d want is for news to spread that Nathan Prescott’s going soft.”

“I am not going soft.” He growled suddenly, and just like before he was mad again. You felt like you were going to get whiplash.

“Alright then, I believe you.” You bit at your lip. “But I’m serious, y’know? Thanks for getting them off my back.”

“They aren’t off your back.” He retorted. You tilted your head and he sighed. “If anything you’re more of a target now than ever.”

Your heart felt like it was going to drop. “Damn it.”

“Could you at least fucking try to not piss your pants?” He teased, and it felt odd for him to say something like that in a non malicious way.

“Well what am I supposed to do? I can’t fight people, and it’s not like you’re going to be there to ‘save me’ again.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes and shifted his weight. “You’ll be fine.” He said. You looked up at him at his tone, which was for once, almost genuine. He still sounded annoyed, like your fear of being constantly harassed made no sense, but overall he seemed like he was actually talking to you like a person. “Just don’t be a smartass all the time.”

“I’m guessing you a get a free pass then?”

“Only to everything.” Despite the obvious brag he didn’t seem to proud of his status, and you wondered if you ever would get the story behind that. You wondered if you would ever even be his friend.

You took a moment to gaze around, seeing all the students still talking in the distance. The jocks were nowhere to be seen but your eyes did catch on something even worse.

“Madison,” You warned suddenly. Nathan knit his brows and you swallowed, eyes frantic. “Madison’s coming.”

He looked over his shoulder and groaned, rubbing his face. “Damn it.” He looked at you then turned, taking a few steps to the right. Madison was gaining momentum now, obviously having saw the interaction and not happy as all. Now it definitely looked like you two were involved in something.

“I’ll tell him I was being harassed when you came to talk and you helped, and then you left. Nothing suspicious.” You said, nudged your head to the side to wordlessly suggest he take off.

He licked his lips and then nodded. “Thanks, just don’t-”

“Expect the favor to be returned. Got it.”

He offered you a nod of thanks before jumping off his feet and hurrying to the side of the school. Madison’s head watched him go but he didn’t follow, going right for you.

You were nervous and trying to think of the right words to say, and it occurred to you that now you weren’t just protecting yourself. You were protecting Nathan too, and for some reason you had no problem with it. Despite not ‘expecting the favor’ to be returned, you know it would in some way. You just hoped it would be in the form of nicer treatment.

Nathan disappeared behind the building and you felt at ease that he was out of the line of fire. Madison was feet away, and even though you knew you’d probably get yelled at, you felt better knowing Nathan had made his getaway.

[idealisticrealism]

Blindspot 3x01 recap

Okay so honestly, until the episode actually aired I wasn’t sure this recap would happen. This hiatus has been all too easy for me, because the finale-- or, specifically, the time jump paired with the realisation that Weller really was going to have a kid-- really made me question whether this was still the show I fell in love with, and if I really wanted to dedicate any more of my time to it. Plus, since I avoid spoilers, there were some serious concerns-- for example, whether Weller even knew why Jane left-- that I had, that I didn’t have the answers to yet.

Which meant that basically I went into this episode not really expecting to feel particularly positive about it. But instead-- like with the second half of S2 after that rather unpleasant start-- damn Gero managed to pull me back in, as he somehow always does.  

So here goes. Recap time. But fair warning: this review is about my personal feelings towards the show, and therefore you may not agree with what you read. Feel free to come and talk to me about it anyway.

Honestly I (like everyone else) knew a wedding was coming, but unlike everyone else I wasn’t all that interested to see it. I mean, I’m happy for them and all, but I’m more interested in seeing the being-married part than the actual getting married. But then the flowers, and the music, and the family looking so beautiful, and Patterson OFFICIATING, and Hirst and Stuart being there (side note: I am only now recognising Stuart as an actor from Gero’s old show the LA Complex, along with about six other actors who have been on this show over the years lol). But anyway, considering my biggest problem with S2 was the baby fiasco, I was expecting to feel the same nausea when seeing the baby onscreen as when I thought of it at any other time (it’s literally one of my least fave tropes, guys, so I’m sorry but I will always hate the existence of the baby), but it was fairly easy to just ignore it. I was bummed not to see Sarah or Sawyer, who would literally have never missed this wedding and tbh would have been a waaaaaaaay better inclusion in S2 and 3 than the unwanted offspring, but whatever. #Foreverbitter

That said, seeing the team laughing and dancing and having an amazing time was just the best. And of course the Jeller lovey-doveyness was so great, and maaaann I really wish we could have heard those speeches. Reade and Tasha dancing was a little bit borderline for me-- they’re so cute and I love them as best friends but PLEASE GERO JUST LET THEM BE BEST FRIENDS. DON’T PUT THEM TOGETHER. PLEASE DON’T.

Ngl I don't at all like that Jeller moved to Colorado. Big nope for me, though I understand why it happened, and god I did love the scene with the fam helping them pack and then tough-as-nails Tasha crying??? Let me die. But I also identify with her the most rn, bc she GETS it. With Jeller gone, their family will never be the same. The roadtrip montage was cute, and the carrying over the threshold???? Ughhhhh save me. I love that they took on the project of the house, the two of them making the perfect team (was there a baby in this montage? Nope, not that I saw. No babies here. Maybe just Allie’s new puppy that they look after from time to time. Yeah, let’s go with that. Bethany is a puppy they babysit and no one can force me to view it as anything else).

So as much as I’m enjoying this montage of domestic bliss, I’m kinda ready for it to end because GUYS PLEASE I’M TOO USED TO ANGST AND SLOW BURN, YOU CAN’T OVERLOAD ME WITH FLUFF LIKE THIS.  And then phew it ends, leaving us in the new Jeller residence with Weller just returning from napping in the laundry beside Bethany’s basket because she still howls when she’s left alone and so he had to pet her until she fell asleep. Awwwww, so nice of these two to look after Allie’s puppy while she works nightshift. I love that Jane cooked dinner-- I bet Weller’s been teaching her and lots of sweet and sexy kitchen times have ensued. Jane gushes about the puppy’s cuteness and Weller suggests maybe they should get one of their own. Good thing they’re talking about a puppy and not a child because wow “one of our own” sure had a very exclusionary implication, like Jane was not at all connected to any other puppies/babies that might exist. But anyway I gotta move on before the world I’ve carefully constructed in this Matrix starts glitching. Saved by the bell, or rather the phone-- it’s Keaton with a warning that their lives are in danger, and here’s yet another topic that threatens to glitch my reality. Keaton tortured Jane for THREE MONTHS. Brutally and without true remorse. He should be persona non grata with literally everyone (the team and the fans alike), but instead the writers have turned him into the team’s new buddy. This is the biggest issue I’ve had with the show, I think-- not Keaton specifically, but what he represents. Because honestly when I think about certain plot points in theory, I feel very strongly and very negatively about them; but when the show goes “no it’s fine everything’s actually great” it somehow sucks me in and I just go ‘oh okay cool everything is great, that’s good then’’, and I just?? For example, I really enjoyed watching Keaton in the finale, and then I thought about it after the episode ad was like ‘wait no I hate him, how did I forget I hate him?’ Like I stg Gero is a wizard, and like anything truly magic related, that’s both a good and a bad thing. But anyway rn I’m appreciative of Keaton because he just helped save Jane and Weller’s lives. So I guess he gets points for that, though technically Jane has saved his life a couple of times already now. Jeller proceed to beat the crap out of their attackers, and aaahhhh, isn’t this so much more THEM than painting walls and picking out cushions? Their Colorado life was a nice little holiday but it wasn’t them.  Naturally the gunshots wake little puppy Bethany who is now barking in distress, but they check on her and she’s fine. Keaton rocks up to explain that some Sandstorm member has put out a hit on Jane for $10M, and now no one can stop a shit-ton of mercenaries from coming after Jane. Keaton and Jane are in agreement about putting Jane into a version of WitSec-- hopefully with much more comfortable lodgings than the last time she was put up by the CIA. (#Yesstillbitter).  Weller tries to reject the idea, then decides he’s coming too, bc “You’re my wife” ughhhhhh, but Jane can’t let him walk away from the rest of his life. She knows what that’s like, after all, though lbr giving up her life as Remi was the best thing she ever did. Unfortunately for Weller, he has a very hardheaded wife and he sleeps very heavily when he’s cuddling a fluffy puppy, so Jane bails in the middle of the night, and nope nope nope  I never needed to see her crying as she pulled off her wedding ring, thanks Satan (I mean Gero). But lbr, Weller is Jane’s everything, and she would do anything-- including break her own heart-- to keep him safe. Oh, Jane, you noble idiot.  At least this whole scene has allayed one of my concerns going into this season-- Weller definitely knows why Jane had to go, so he knows it was done out of love, and not for the lack of it.  I still think she could have kept the ring, but I suppose by leaving it she was telling him that she was okay, that she was leaving of her own accord and hadn’t been kidnapped or murdered or anything.

Have I mentioned lately how much I really hate time-jumps??? After the finale, I desperately hoped that they had been married the majority of that two year gap and that their separation was only like three or so months. I even mostly-completed a oneshot postfinale fic along those lines, but then we found out about the 18 month thing and I was like “well screw you too, show” (#yepdefinitelybitter) and abandoned the story entirely. Plus, it’s been otherwise proved non-canon now, so that was rather a waste of time. But anyway, it’s now 18 months after Jane disappeared (undoubtedly aided by Keaton) and you just know the whole family will have been scattered to the winds. Another reason to hate time jumps. Speaking of the team, Hirst shows up at Weller’s apartment-- which he somehow still has; renting it out, I guess?? But damn he’s clearly richer than I thought he was. He’s about to sell it though bc he’s spending all his time and money searching for Jane, just as he has for the last 18 months. And on one hand, I can totally be like “awww he loves her so much” but on the other hand I want to be like “wtf you sadistic writers, you’re literally going to rip apart a couple who loves each other for A YEAR AND A HALF, which is a FREAKING LONG TIME (seriously where were you 1.5yrs ago? Think about that and how much of forever ago it was) and then also literally have the love of Weller’s life disappear into thin air, when he had already spent 25 years of his life searching for the last person he loved who disappeared, and OH YEAH, WHO TURNED OUT TO HAVE BEEN DEAD THE WHOLE TIME???” Legit, if you actually take two seconds to think about it, this entire plotline is freaking awful and upsetting and yet the show will literally brush it off like it’s nothing, or merely a tiny insignificant blip in their lives. Just watch. And so again, this is one of those moments where Gero bedazzles us into not being upset by things which very much should upset us. But ANYWAY, Hirst is there because the team has been kidnapped, and I use the word ‘team’ lightly here, because they literally haven't seen each other in like a year because everything fell apart after Jeller abandoned them to go puppysit in Colorado. Anyhow, a mysterious box with Jane’s name on it (or her maiden name at least, no one can convince me that the woman for whom Weller is her home wouldn’t have taken his name and the belonging that went with it) was left in Reade’s apartment, likely because he’s the only one left in NYC because all the others bailed. Seriously I feel like this team’s breaking apart has given ME abandonment issues, so I have no idea how they’re all managing. But anyway the other nifty thing about the box is that it has coordinates on it, very possibly leading to Jane’s location. Congrats, Weller, looks like you don’t have to sell your apartment after all. And you totally have all the info you need to go find Jane, plus an excellent excuse, given that only she can open the box and help them save their friends (who they completely ditched two years ago). Fun times.

Jump to Nepal, and the scene from the finale. Now we know for sure that the hug was because Jane had never wanted to leave him, which is nice. Also that whoever left the box (lbr we all already know it’s Roman) literally made it so the two of them HAD to solve this together. Looks like someone ships his his sister and brother in law lol…  Aaaand okay now Jane is glowing. She admits that it must have happened when she was in an accident some months ago that had her in and out of consciousness for days, and wow how must that feel for Weller? Hearing that she literally almost died months ago and he would never have known about it? Dammit Jane, I know you suffered without him too and that you were doing it for ‘good’ reasons, but I still think you were wrong to do it. If anyone has a time machine up their sleeve, please donate it to these guys so they can go back and make better choices.

But all realistic feelings aside, the pair are straight back into tattoo solving mode (admit it guys, you’ve missed this) and quickly figure out that the first clue is a reference to the place that Weller proposed to Jane-- St Mark’s Square in Venice. Which on one hand is ugh so sweet and romantic but on the other is… kinda unoriginal? Lol. But regardless I need to hear more about his proposal. How long were they in Venice? How long had they been together? Did he intend to propose the whole time or did it just happen? Why did they holiday in Venice as opposed to other locations? Tell me EVERYTHING, GERO. But anyway Jane’s like ‘It’s happening all over again’ and it’s easy to assume she’s unhappy about that, but then again, maybe she’s actually not? Technically working with the team on the tattoos was the best time of her life (with some exceptions here and there). Weller offers for her to stay out of it if she wants to-- which is big of you, Weller, it really is. I mean we all know you're desperately hoping she comes with you, but then again you want her to be safe, so… this must be conflicting lol. But of course Jane is down to rescue their best friends (again, friends that they abandoned #irrationallybitter), and lbr is probably super sick of climbing that damn cliff, PLUS can’t face leaving her hubby a second time, so together they set off to Venice. Yay!

Weller has taken some full-body shots of the new tatts (I feel like that had to be slightly awkward for both of them) and sends them through to the lab, where they are received by Stuart (onya for moving up in the world, buddy), Hirst, and… RICH DOT FREAKIN COM. I mean, we’ve all known for a while that he was returning, and suspected long before that, but honestly this is the moment that makes the episode for me. My fave is back and is making jokes about nudes, and all is right with the world.  Jane is like ‘wtf’, and so Weller gives her a rundown on all she missed-- namely, that her entire ‘family’ has become estranged-- Reade is working in a position that tbh feels above his ability and experience level, give that his predecessors are the superhuman Mayfair and the wonderboy Weller; Tasha the CIA-hater is now working for the man who tortured Jane; Patterson has literally moved as far across the country as she can, to do work as far from their FBI work as possible. See what happens when parents abandon their children, Jane?? Everything falls apart, so you better go fix it. Also, two things: first, I wanna know all about Rich’s dealings with the FBI in the last two years. Give me a spin off just about that, please. Secondly, did Rich and Patterson try to find Jane after she disappeared and how did they feel about their (apparent) lack of success?  But anyway ugh literally every line of Rich’s is pure gold. I love that he’s staying in the same safe-house she did?? Keeping it in the family lol.  And then ugh for all his jokes about the nudes etc, you can tell he’s legitimately concerned that they’re about to walk into a trap. Oh my baby loves and misses his friends and wants them back in one piece and I juST LOVE HIM SO MUCH

Meanwhile, in the fun bunker, Reade and Zapata wake up after being drugged, and while he’s all business, she’s like “it’s good to see you, even if it takes being kidnapped for it to happen” and we discover that they haven't spoken at all in the year since Zapata went to the CIA. Dammit Jeller, see what you did??? Everything is broken!!!  And now a long-haired Patterson is herded into their cell, and is understandably all ‘wtf’ about it. Well, at least they’re all in the same room again, right?

Seeing Jeller in Venice is weird. I walked right there in the spot where they're walking, many times. I saw everything they’re seeing now. And ugh Jane says it seems like forever ago that they were last here, whereas for Weller it feels like it just happened. Which subtly demonstrates how they’re no longer in sync, and then ugh Weller tells her that this was the first place he came to after she disappeared, going straight to the place that only they knew about, hoping that she was waiting for him. But she wasn’t, and ugh you can tell how much that hurt him, realising that she was never going to come. How long did he wait for her before he realised that?? Ugh. But I appreciate that she immediately stops to apologise and try to explain herself, including making it clear that her love for him was the driving factor behind everything she did. The choice of language by the writers is clever, though, because we (and Weller) hear her say ‘loved’ and neither of us know for sure if that love is still present tense or not. Which of course it is, but still, the suspense… But ugh poor Weller. He’s still so hurt. Jane can you just give him another hug please? For longer this time? Like, say, forever?  

Also sidebar: I’m holidaying in Vanuatu atm, and there’s an old guy swimming in the pool that I’m sitting beside, and he looked up at me as I was writing that last sentence and at first I thought maybe it’s because he’s a man and I’m female in a bikini, but then he goes (in a cute, accented voice) “Don’t work so hard. You’re on holiday! You should be relaxing!” hahaha. Don’t worry, buddy, I’ve been lazing by this pool for hours now, and I’m currently writing about some of my favourite fake humans. I’m all good.

Meanwhile back in the Blindspot world, Jeller find a case on the roof that has her tattoo on the side, and while Weller is all ‘wait for the bombsquad!!’ Jane ignores him and immediately opens it. Ah, Weller, did you miss this? I mean it’s just like old times.  Inside the case there’s a phone, and Jane calls the number, and Roman answers almost too eagerly. He’s clearly pleased to be interacting with them both, and proud of himself for his genius plan for ‘tormenting’ them (while also bringing them back together, freeing Jane from the hit on her, and giving him an excuse to interact with them whenever he wants). Aw, my psychopathic lil boy just misses his family. Honestly it sounds like he’s gone through a fair bit of trouble to get to the guy who holds the hit out on Jane and give them a way to take him down… a way that involves kinda almost killing Jane but eh, could be worse? And then ooooh they realise from the bells that he’s right there in the square too, and omg as Jane is asking him how they get their friends back (answer: apparently they don’t) she’s spinning around looking for him, and right behind her is a walkway with a snack bar on one side of it, and man I have such clear memories of walking along that walkway to our hotel or stopping into that snack bar for gelati. Ugh, I miss Venice. And then he says her name again (dude it’s Jane WELLER, not Doe) and she spots him and takes off after him and Weller suddenly panics because he doesn’t know where she is (ugh my poor boy) but luckily he manages to take the exact right turn to find them (do you know how easy it is to get turned around in Venice?????  He’d have never found them) and he jumps onto Roman’s getaway boat which is badass, and after what seems like several minutes of an unpleasant upper-body workout he manages to pull himself up on the boat and attack Roman. Meanwhile Jane, who got left behind earlier, has managed to just about catch up to them despite having commandeered what appears to be the Italian version of a motor-pontoon.  Also Roman manages to keep his sunnies on throughout their fight which is pretty damn impressive considering that Weller has bodyslammed him a couple of times as well as punching him full on in the face more than once. But eh. Weller does manage to dislodge Roman's jacket as he gets literally kicked off the boat, though. Good thing Captain Jane and her trusty vessel aren't far behind, and pick him up. I like that she called him Weller; that’s right Jane, just because it’s your name now too doesn’t mean you can’t still call him that. Oooooh but rather than being grateful for the rescue, Weller is too busy being upset with Jane for ditching him, which he’s understandably just a tad sensitive about these days. Looks like these guys have still got a little bit to go in terms of getting their groove back. And while Jane is lamenting Roman’s escape, Weller shows her the phone from the pocket of Roman’s jacket, his voice all proud. Yeah, son, you did good.

Back at the lab, Stuart is still being antagonized by Rich, who I have to say pulls off those flowered shirts better than I would have believed possible. Though lbr, I gave up on trying not to be inexplicably attracted to Rich a long time ago. While they’re cracking the encrypted phone, Jeller go ahead with Roman’s plan to get rid of Jane’s bounty. Not that the munchkin is happy about it, of course, but Jane is determined to have her life back-- lbr, after getting to see Weller again after all this time, there’d be no way she could ever let him go again. While Weller’s super against the death-mimicking drug, it gets support from Stuart and Rich, the former in simply confirming that it does what Roman says it does, and the latter detailing his own uses for it which include faked-death border crossings and, of course, ‘some sex stuff’. Not sure I wanna hear the sex stories, but the border crossings one sure has me intrigued. The guys do bring up one catch: if she doesn’t have the antidote within 90 mins, she’ll actually die.  Weller is NOT down with that, but before he can even get past the opening statement of his list of all the reasons why this is a Bad Idea, Jane stabs herself in the leg with the needle. His face is the most hilarious thing, like ‘Aaaaand she did the thing. Of course she did the thing. Why do I even ever try to talk her out of the thing, she always just does it anyway.’ lol. But let’s not forget there, he could literally grab the antidote right out of that case and stab her with it right now, completely counteracting the drug’s effects and preventing the plan from being able to go ahead. But she begged him to do it for her-- for them-- and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her. Especially if it gives him the love of his life back. And come on, it’s not a true Jeller moment until one of them does something the other tells them not to, nearly dies, and is saved by the other, so…

In the fun bunker, the (now loosely defined) team is trying to figure out where they are (no clue), and why they were taken, and Reade immediately assumes it’s something to do with Zapata’s work at the CIA, and the two of them are immediately at each other’s throats about it before Patterson plays mediator, trying to get everyone to focus. On one hand I agree with Reade, bc the CIA is pretty shady and I don’t trust them, but Zapata’s probably right when she says that it must be about their time in the FBI since all three of them are here. However some Spanish-accented military dudes appear a moment later and tell them to break into a fancy safe or die, and hmmmm that is not quite what I expected. While Patterson assesses the crackability of the safe (fairly easy apparently, and dude how could I ever forget how much I love Patterson) Reade gets his wet-blanket on, and starts preaching about how they shouldn’t open it bc it’s a government safe and might have dangerous secrets inside etc, whereas Zapata is all “pshh, that’s a problem for another day. Today’s problem is not dying” which I fully support. And then they’re at it again (and not ‘at it’ in the sexy way, which in this moment would be uncomfortable for all kinds of reasons) but in the squabbly bickery way, but Patterson interrupts with some much needed truth bombs: Reade is mad at Zapata for leaving, Zapata’s mad at him for freezing her out after she left, and the team fell apart after Jeller left and they’re all still trying to deal with that loss. And ughhh everyone missed each other and they’re all unhappy in their separate lives and clearly the solution here is for everyone to come back to the team and stay together forever and never let Gero break them up ever again ugh. But anyhow, like all Patterson rants, this one results in everyone being like ‘sorry mom what do we need to do’ and ugh I’ve missed themmmmmm

Back in Venice, Weller is rolling a duffel bag with his estranged wife’s death-adjacent body inside. Act natural, Weller, because this would be a really awkward time to get stopped by the cops. Also sidenote, he’s rolling that bag like it doesn’t weigh much at all, which I'm going to pretend is just because he’s jacked and not because there’s actually nothing in the bag that they filmed with lol. Anyhow, the bag is now up on the altar in a church filled with bad guys, and time is running out before Jane needs the antidote. Of course the bounty guy is late. Thanks for my blood pressure issues, Blindspot. Also another sidenote, but the guy who greets him is totally a silver fox. Too bad he’s soon to be either arrested or dead. Finally his boss arrives-- he got caught up watching a glassblower, which tbh I completely understand, bc that kind of thing is awesome-- and then lolllll he listens with a stethoscope for like 2 seconds and then does a blood pressure and then declares Jane dead?? Um, no. As someone who has certified the deaths of many people in the last three years, and also interacted with a lot of death-adjacent people, let me tell you that a) a blood pressure is useless, b) he would need to listen for at LEAST two minutes with the steth, and c) there are several other simple checks he should have done that totally would have given Jane away.  But whatevs, his lack of any medical understanding totally works in our favour.  Weller is all “cool I love that she’s dead and that I’m getting all the moneys for it, hey can I have a sec with the body please?” but nope, the dude has his cronies ready to take her to the in-house crematorium (wow, talk about a one-stop shop) and Weller’s al ‘coolcoolcool’ *punches the dudes out and stabs Jane’s body right through the bag before being pulled away and having his ass handed to him*. And okay Jane would not have woken up instantly like that but DAMN if it doesn't look cool with her slowly emerging from the bag like an avenging angel (cool parallel with the pilot, of course) and then she’s all ‘how dare u hurt my man’, leading to a shot like in those cartoons where two characters are brawling inside a closed room or building and all you see is like the door bending outwards and clouds of dust puffing up and windows rattling etc, and then BAM BABY, JELLER IS BACK AND KICKING BUTT and also looking like they’re both a little turned on by it which is kind of awkward but at the same time I fully support it and Idk there’s just a lot of emotions going on rn

Rich excitedly confirms that Roman’s plan actually worked and Jane is now free, and ugh I like to think that it’s not just because he can’t believe it worked but more that he’s just really happy for them bc he ships them so much and it also means that they’re going to be coming home and basically I just  want the whole gang back together ugh. That might be a little difficult though, as Rich informs them of the not-so-good good news-- Roman sold the other three into slavery, but thankfully he’s freaking awesome (and knows it) because he’s managed to figure out where they were taken. Lol at Weller's “Ugh he’s worse than Patterson” hahahaha. Ugh I just LOVE THESE GUYS. And so the others are apparently being held by the Venezuelan government, and Rich tells Jeller where, but they can’t have any official help (Oh Stuart: “shouldn't we just call the president or something?” my sweet summer child) and so Keaton is there to hook them up with some of his contacts and goddammit why is hating him so damn hard. And awww I love that lil baby Stuart is getting to play with the big kids these days, and awww Hirst is determined to get their ‘friends’ back (not their ‘agents’ or their ‘team’) and ugh this FAMILYYYY. It’s becoming increasingly apparent that the original family of five has now been joined by the cool wine aunt, the awkward and often annoying but also kinda useful uncle, the wacky flamboyant cousin, and the shy young nerd cousin now added into the mix.

In the fun bunker, Patterson is casually cracking the safe while snacking on her MRE, while Reade whines about his own food and Zapata messes with him for entertainment. Ah, good times. Then Patterson opens the safe-- literally the others seem to be barely there for anything other than moral support-- and they realise that  the safe contains a government computer, probably with a bunch of dangerous secrets on it. Uh-oh. Before they can argue more about the merits of dying for the cause, though, the baddies arrive. They want Patterson to decrypt the computer which is gonna take a hella long time. Awww ‘we paid for the best computer specialist in the FBI’, and ughhh she really is. And then it turns out that Reade and Zapata are literally just there as incentive for her to get crackin’ or they’ll be killed. Eeeep. But our Patty Pat is a genius, and the baddies made the epic mistake of providing sustenance in the form of MREs. Basically if they use the hot packets from the food to turn the computer into a flashbang, they can distract the baddies long enough  to overpower them and escape. Ugh I’m so proud of my lil baby genius. And she makes Reade apologise to the food for badmouthing it hahaha. Man I have missed this lil team so much!!

Up in the sky, Jeller are rushing to save their buddies, but also having The Talk-- aka the ‘what are we now?’ talk, bc lbr Jane so desperately wants their life together back, both as a married couple and as kickass FBI agents, but she doesn’t know if she has the right to have it back or if it's even what he wants, and then he’s all ‘yep let’s be married again we can just sweep this past 18 months under the rug please I’m good with that let’s just do that’ and ugh Jane admits that leaving him and their life was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but-- and man does he feel the ‘but’-- she really found herself after she left him. Oh man, what a kick in the guts. I totally get what she’s saying-- it’s not that she doesn’t want to be with him, or that she can only truly be herself without him, it’s that the puppy-sitting life in backwater Colorado is just not for her (Well, duh). She did it once to make him happy, but she can’t go back to it again or she’ll go stir-crazy. Well, good thing these new tattoos have given them both the perfect excuse to go back to their lives of kicking ass in NYC! Poor Weller though, he doesn’t understand yet, and the way his voice gets a little choked up just kills me. Oh Weller, just because she discovered who she is as a person without you (bearing in mind that pretty much her entire life that she can remember, you’ve been there), doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you with all her heart!

Now Jeller are at the compound, about to search every building individually when the others save them a bunch of time by causing a hell of a ruckus (exploding computers, gunfire, all-round hell breaking loose-- you know, the usual) and so Jeller have to adjust their plans. In a big, kick-ass way. I love the three making their big escape and then seeing the tank a roll up and aim towards them and they’re all ‘shit alright you got us geez we surrender’ and then BAM, the tank destroys the bad guys’ vehicles and probably everyone’s eardrums as well. I just love the wtf moment that these three must have when Weller suddenly pops up out of the tank-- dad’s here guys! Time to go! And then they’re inside and mom is driving and they all probably think that they’re hallucinating from something in the Mexican Style chicken stew and ughhhh they must be so relieved and Jane literally drives over a car bc ain't nothing getting in the way of getting her family to safety. Also lol Patterson must have been raking it in with the app designing because she’s all ‘I gotta buy me one of these’ haha. I’d love to see her cruising around NYC in one hahaha. And then ugh Jeller are all in sync again , taking out the baddies following them and the team is half-confused, half-happy and they have so many questions and then Reade’s “We got time, this tank is slow as hell’ lolllll. Well he’s not wrong…. wonder how long it took for things to get awkward??

Aaaand the team is safely back at the NYO, and Jane is in the scanner again, and Keaton is there again for whatever reason-- oh, because he wants the CIA to take the tattoo cases, while Hirst is all ‘bish please” in her excellent southern accent. So lemme guess, this is about to be a joint task force… and yep, Reade is all ‘this is the most sensible option’ like he totally doesn’t just want Zapata back. Haha yeah Keaton, you get me on this. It’s nice to see Reade stepping up and going head to head with the big kids, though I still don’t think he’s ready to be in this position (Are we forgetting the whole Jones thing and the drug binge??). But whatevs. Reade goes to tell the team about the joint task force and they’re like yeah duh, we’re all already in’. Well, except Patterson, who is playing a little hard to get. Maybe she’s still struggling to deal with all the Sandstorm trauma? And then omg “Rich is gonna brief us in Stuart’s lab” was the perfect sentence to say right then to convince her to stay haha. Well played, Reade. Patterson is not happy at all about Rich being involved, though Reade defends him which feels kinda weird but I also like it. I wanna hear more about their interactions. Again, spin-off, anyone?? Weller is all ‘oh god please where is the briefing just give us the briefing’ so after a lil more Patterson/Rich bickering (ah how I’ve missed that), Stuart tells them what they already know-- lots of tattoos to crack, so they better get…. Cracking (*insert finger guns here*). Patterson is now all in, refusing to leave this to Rich and Stuart (“No offense Stuart” hahahaha), and Jane is in too, despite Hirst offering for her to be free if she wants. Aww, Hirst. You are a sweetie pie. And then Rich: “Backstreets back alright! Six best friends and Stuart!” And UGH YES. Give me all the Rich, and all the Patterson and the Stuart and the ughhhh all of it. I do love that all joking aside, Rich does very genuinely tell Jane it's nice to see her again. He loves his Jane and he would do anything for her ugh

Oooh Jeller in their old apartment, and he’s all unsure whether she really wants to be there with him and she makes it clear that there’s nowhere else she wants to be, and yaaaas my boy acknowledges that the move to Colorado really didn’t fit her and that she’d given up a lot of her own happiness and personal meaning just to make him happy. So now they just need to strike a balance, which is all she wants-- to be there with him and be happy and in luuuurve while also kicking butt and saving people.  And then ugh he pulls her ring out of his pocket and he’s been carrying it EVERY DAY since she left and he rushes to tell her that she doesn’t have to put it back on until she’s ready and ugh she takes it and kisses him and then lord save me from how husky her voice goes when she tells him she’s missed him so much and ughhhhh he’s missed her too and ugh my babies are about to have reunion sex on multiple surfaces in the house and I’m so happy for them. Damn Gero yet again you have managed to make the thought of 18 awful months completely disappear in the face of this excellence, and it’s all too easy to just let you make me forget, and ugh I want to stay upset about it but I just can’t. Damn it you crafty wizard, how have you gotten me so under your spell….

Lol Aunty Hirst checking in with Reade, seeing if he’s okay with all his fam coming back, but also warning him (and us) that none of these people are the same as they were two years ago. And to prove that point, uncle Keaton and Zapata are having their own, much shadier  little conference about one of the tattoos, one that clearly points to something related to either them or the CIA in general, but it’s something they’re both very familiar with and won’t let the others find out about. Oooh, secrets. Speaking of secrets, Rich and Patterson have apparently been interacting regularly over the last two years??? And before anyone goes there, NO, I  I don’t think their relationship is at all romantic or sexual. I think they’ve been business partners of a sort (probably with Boston as well, since he and Patterson kinda became buds) and I also think that Patterson has been secretly helping Rich help the FBI with their cases. But again, I want to hear ALL about whatever they’ve been up to bc ugh I love these two and their dynamic though I also kinda wanna give Rich a hug and tell Patterson to be nicer to her weirdo cousin haha. Oh wait, you thought we were done with the secrets???? Nope, Jane is looking unhappy and  hiding a bunch of passports (probably given to her by Keaton) away the moment Weller leaves, and he steps outside their (apparently-renovated) building and immediately encounters Roman, who basically blackmails him to help him with tattoo-related stuff or he’ll tell Jane about ‘what happened in Berlin’. Weller is agrees to help immediately, which kinda makes it seem like whatever happened in Berlin was really, really bad. And again NO IT WAS NOT SOMETHING ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL. Geez, people. Neither Jane nor Weller would have slept with anyone else during their separation. To think so would be to have no understanding of either of the characters, or their character growth. Far more likely Weller did something that would be considered illegal or amoral, like killing someone, or something. Personally I think he and Roman encountered each other in Berlin and had an altercation wherein Weller injured and very nearly killed Roman, and Roman only survived by pure luck? That feels like a thing he’d want to keep from Jane, that he nearly killed her only family? Plus then he would kind of ‘owe’ Roman as well,. But idk, maybe it was something even shadier. Guess we’ll find out….

And so okay, I admit it. You've won, Gero. You’ve done a ton of things that have upset me or that I object to on multiple levels, but try as I might I can’t escape from your web. Looks like I’m stuck with this show, which means you guys are stuck with me and my recaps...