#dealer!zach justice

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: After being a guest on the podcast, you thought your communication with Zach was over with, but that was until you got a certain texts from a certain someone.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, dealer!Zach, mentions of smoking weed, being high, friends to lovers, cuddling, cute actions, fluffy and smutty, unprotected sex, biting, hair pulling, handjob, fingering, sensual filth

Word count: 3.7k | not edited

Sorry this took so long, I’ve had writers block for days. I hope it’s okay, love yas! Enjoy! 🖤

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You walk through the door, “Hello, hello.”

“Ahh!!” Tara says excitedly, “I so happy you’re here!” She walks over to you and you embrace her in a hug, “I’m so glad you reached out, again, thank you!”

“We’re so excited to have you.” Tara says as she leads you over to the seat, “You can have the honor of sitting next to Zach, he’s probably going to target you today anyway. I think he has a little crush on you.”

You roll your eyes laughing as you sit, “Yeah, I seen how he is. I watched a few videos to kind of catch up on everything.”

Zach and Jared walk in and Jared is the first to greet you, “Hey, y/n. How are you?” He walks over and you stand back up to hug him, “I’m good, busy. But good. How are you?”

He nods, “I’m good.” He steps out of the way and you gasp, “Oh my goodness.”

Zach smirks, “Sheesh, I know I’m attractive but no need to make it a big deal.” You shake your head as you walk over, laying a hand on the head of the dog in his arms, “I was talking about the dog.”

Zach nods ever so slightly and his voice is low, “I know.”

You smirk, scooping the dog from his arms, “You just lost your dog.” You walk back over and sit down to put on your headphones, hands going right back to love on the dog in your lap.

“So, this is your first time meeting Zach right?” Jared asks and you look up, giving him a nod, “Yep, first time, I mean. I think we’ve followed each other on Instagram for a little bit.”

Zach holds his hand up and tilts his head, “Oh, so we have decided to pretend like last night didn’t happen, got it.”

Your mouth drops and you gasp, “Zach.” You laugh, “Don’t do that.” Tara raises her hand, “Actually, y/n was with me last night.” She looks at you, “Can I say it!?”

You smile, nodding your head, “Yeah, go for it.”

“So for those of you who don’t know who y/n is, she has multiple brands, a swimsuit line, a make up line-“

Alyssa cuts Tara off, “Which are both really good by the way.”

You smile and blow her a kiss. She pretends to catch it and you laugh and Zach scoffs, “Get a room.”

“Wow. I don’t know who Zach is more jealous of today, Alyssa or Handsome for being in y/n’s lap.” Jared laughs and Zach sighs, “Have you ever heard of the term, think before you speak?”

“Have you?” Tara and Jared yell at Zach in unison and you cover hour mouth, “I’m so glad I showed up today.”

——

Followers in each others Instagram lists is what you and Zach have been to each other for a while.

You’d like his stuff when you seen it, vice versa.

You couldn’t lie when you said his posts didn’t put a smile on your face, or make your heart skip a little beat when he posted a picture he looked a little too good in.

You’ve been newly single these last few months, and you just knew that you were set out to get nervous around anyone you found attractive.

But Zach didn’t make you nervous.

He made you feel comfortable.

You felt like you knew him for as long as you followed him on insta. It was weird, but yet, so refreshing to just have someone talk and joke around with you.

There only thing that was serious about it, was the tension you hoped no one picked up on, but with being a, basically five star rated influencer, you had a fan base that picked apart every thing you did.

So in the long run, you wouldn’t be shocked if you woke up to you and Zach trending on twitter or have new edits posted that ship the two of you that your friends would send to tease you.

Your phone rings, pulling you from your thoughts.

You sit up from your bed and reach over, furrowing your brows when you see a number displayed across the screen.

You answer, kinda skeptical, “Hello?”

“Y/n?”

You pull your head back, slightly shocked, “Zach?”

“Yeah thank Tara for leaving her phone laying around.” He chuckles and you laugh, “You could have just asked for it, you know?”

He sighs, “Yeah, I don’t know why I didn’t just do that.”

You smile and tilt your head, “So, what’s up?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, “Do you.. want to come over?” He quickly follows up, “Just to hang out.”

The words roll off your tongue with major ease, “I would love to just hang out with you.” You tease, “I’ll text you when I leave.”

——

You pulled back up to Zach’s, chewing on your lip as you text him, I’m here.

He responds back almost instantly, like he was waiting for you already, Come in through the studio door.

You get out, making sure you have everything before you walk towards the door. As you grow closer, Zach pushes it open, giving you a smile, “Hello again.”

“Hey.” You smile as you walk past him and into the house. He nods towards the steps and you follow him, making your way up to his room.

He motions for you to go in and you oblige, walking in, and you know his eyes are on your eyes, but you can only smile.

You turn around as he closes the door and he licks his lips, “So if I did my research right..” he walks over to his nightstand and opens the door, “C’mere.”

You walk around and your jaw drops as the sight in front of you, “Zachary Justice.”

His head snaps towards you, “What?”

You smirk, shaking your head, “What a plot twist you are.” His eyes look around the room, “Not following.”

You sit down next to him and you lean in, “Are you a..” your voice goes barely audible, “..drug dealer?”

He turns his head, his lips inches from yours, “I stay away from the harder shit, so..” he purses his lips, “that would just make me a, weed dealer then?”

You nod slowly, eyes flicking from his lips to his eyes, “I supposed it would, wouldn’t it.”

He smiles, looking back down at the box in front of him, “I can roll us a blunt if you want, a joint. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Well, how m-“

“Mm.” He shakes his head, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You laugh slightly and he looks at you, a smirk toying with his lips, “Offer to pay. If I wanted you to pay, I would have gotten the money first.”

You bite your lip, “Okay.” You swallow, “We can just do a joint or something. Doesn’t have to be much.”

He nods, pulling a pre-rolled joint from a thick plastic bag, “Okay.” He nods towards the bed, “Make yourself comfortable.”

You look at the bed and back to him, “You.. you’re gonna smoke in here?” He nods, “Or whenever you’re comfortable. I usually just do it here while watching a movie.”

“Do they know?” You start to kick off your shoes, “Jared and everyone else?”

Zach nods, “Yeah, they get from me, so they keep it hushed.” He slips his shirt up over his head and walks over to you, placing the joint between his lips as he lights it.

He takes a drag and hands it to you, “I’m going to go get some snacks, tray is there. Remote is here. Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”

You smile, taking the joint from him, “Thank you, Zach.” You watch him walk out before you place the joint between your lips, taking a much needed drag.

You hold in the smoke, eyes glancing over the screen as you look at the movies. You tilt your head back letting out the smoke as you slowly feel the buzz of being high creep its way in.

You hear the door open and tilt your head up, “That was fast.” You take another drag, eyes watching as he walks around to his side of the bed.

He chuckles, setting down the stuff he brought, “Did you pick a movie?” He looks up and over to you, you nod, handing him the joint, “Uh huh. I was just-“

You pause as you watch him take a drag, “-waiting for you.”

He nods, “so nice.” He smirks back at you and hands you the joint. You press play as you take a third hit, really feeling relaxed now.

You move back towards the headboard, leaning up against it as you move around to get comfy.

Zach glances back and shifts over and back to lay between your legs, his arms hooked under, so his hands rest on top of your thighs.

You look down at him, smiling as you take another hit.

You reach down, placing the joint between his lips and he nods his head when he wants you to pull it away.

You sit up, putting the joint in the tray before you slowly lean down. Your free hand on his cheek as your press your lips to his, mumbling out, “Blow.”

He exhales and you inhale the smoke from his mouth.

You peck his lips quickly before sitting up to exhale, “Sorry. I’ve always wanted to do that.” You explain and he tilts his head back to look at you.

You glance down at him, “I had a feeling you’d be okay with it.”

“The only thing you had a feeling about today?” He asks and you shake your head. He bites his lip, nodding his head slightly.

You clench your jaw as each movement of his neck resting against your clothed crotch area sends shivers up your spine.

“I figured I’d take a shot because your eyes..” he smirks, “Your eyes said you were feeling it, too.”

All you can do is nod slowly. Your hand moves to his hand and your run your fingers through the brown stands as he stare up at you, “Talk to me, baby.”

His quiet voice makes you feel weak.

“I feel it.” You whisper out, eyes moving to his glossed over ones, “I’ve never.. felt this way with someone before.”

“It’s nice, right..” Zach laughs weakly, “When you fall so unexpectedly for someone and they feel the same way back.” His hands slide down to give your knees a squeeze and you clench around nothing from the action.

He knows he’s teasing you, but he’s waiting for you to make the first move. Or, for you to tell him to stop, which is something you won’t be doing.

He smirks, looking back at the tv. A little bit goes by and he’s now laying with his arms on either side of your body and his head rested on your shoulder.

His forehead is resting against your neck and you’re nervous now, and the urge to swallow is screaming at your loudly.

You don’t want to seem nervous, but if this goes you know in your gut it’s going, you can’t help but be nervous.

“You know.” Zach says, finally breaking the long silence. You hum in response and he chuckles slightly, “Weed.. be perfect together.”

You giggle slightly, “That’s cute.”

“Get it.. weed..” he laughs weakly and gets serious really fast, “Please don’t leave.”

“I’m not going to leave.” You run a hand through his hair, “You’re cute. You have good weed, and you make me laugh? Please. You’ll have to kill me to get me away from you.”

You feel him smirk and he pulls your body closer to him, “Good thing I don’t want a murder charge.”

You laugh and almost like muscle memory, plant a kiss to his forehead. Instantly, he retaliates with a gentle kiss to your neck.

Neck kisses are your weakness.

You test it again, planting another kiss on his head. He kisses your neck again, and again. And again.

You let out a little moan as he sucks gently, his teeth grazing your skin, “Mm, you like that huh?” Zach’s voice is low in your ear.

You nod, a hand sliding to the back of his head, “Yes.”

He starts kissing your neck again, his hand sliding up to push your sweatshirt up your stomach slightly. Your muscles twitch under the light brush of his finger tips and you gasp, whimpering out as you feel his teeth sink into your skin.

You moan, body pushing closer to his as he kisses up to your ear, “You sound so pretty.” He gently bites down on your bottom lip before his fingers slide to the bottom of your sweatshirt, “Can I go under?”

You raise your brows, “Such a gentleman.” Zach smiles, pecking your lips in between kisses, “I.. just.. want you.. to be.. comfortable.. and.. relaxed, baby.”

You go to sit up and he cups your cheek, bringing you back to him, “Let me do it.” He sits up and quickly but gently takes off your sweatshirt.

You bite your lip and lay back down, Zach lays back down besides your and slips his arm under your head as your leg goes over his hip.

Your hand moves to rest on his neck as your lips meet again, but this time the kiss was hungry.

His hand slides from your thigh to your ass and he pushes you in to meet his hips. You moan against his lips when you feel his hard bulge press against your clothed cunt, “Please.”

He moves his hand from your ass and brings it up to squeeze your boobs, going back and fourth between them.

You tilt your head back, moaning out as you grind down onto him, “Zach..” your tilt your head forward, “P-please.”

He slides a hand down between your bodies, leaning his back so he has room to slip his hand into your sweats and panties.

Your breathing grows rapid as you await the needed touch. His fingers slide down to press onto your clit and your breathing gets caught in your throat as your hips buck forward slightly.

“That what you want? Does it feel good, sweetheart?” Zach asks against your lips. You whimper out, “Feels so good..” you reach down to push his hand down a little further, “Need more of you.”

He waists no time fulfilling your request.

Two of his fingers slip into you, causing a groan to rip from his own lips, “Fuck, you’re so tight just around my fingers.”

Your eyes roll back as his fingers curl to reach that perfect little spot, “F-fuck.” Your chest pushes into his and he groans, “Can you cum for me?” He kisses your neck, “I want to get you off, sweetheart.”

“Close.” You whisper out, “Keep going.”

“Think you can take a third, baby?” Zach asks and you nod eagerly, “Please, please, please.” Your voice is whiney, “Fuck.”

You feel Zach’s two fingers withdrawal but they’re quick to return and you moan louder as the slight stretch you feel as he thrusts them into you slowly.

“F-fuck.” You gasp out, arching your back as Zach leans down and takes your nipple into his mouth.

His tongue flicking and swirling over sends you over the edge, squeezing his fingers and moaning continuously.

Your hands tangle in his hair and tug, earning a groan that vibrates your nipple that’s between this teeth.

He guides you through your high, kissing up to your lips before he pulls his hand out of your sweats.

You wanted more of him.

You grab the waist band of his sweats and tug on them, leaning in to have a turn with his neck. He groans as you kiss and lick upward, whispering quietly in his ear, “I want you to fuck me.”

His cock twitches against your hand, “if that’s what you want.” He whispers as he grips your hand and pushes it down harder.

You squeeze and pull your hand away so you can roll over to take off your sweats and panties. You turn back, shocked at how quick Zach was to take the rest of his clothes off.

“I know, I’m quick.” He smirks and grabs your arm, pulling you back into him. He pulls the blankets back up around your bodies before moving to roam the newly freed skin.

You tilt your head up, lips searching for his. You weren’t sure if it was just because of your connection with him, or the fact that you were high, but you feel so needy for him.

And Zach loved it.

He drapes your left leg over his hip as pulls you closer, his lips connect to yours. You moan against his lips as you feel the head of his cock brushing up agains your soaked opening.

Your nails dig into his back as you whimper, rolling your hips into his, “Baby.”

Zach grips your hips, pulling you down as he pushes his hips upward. You gasp, jaw falling slack as you feel him slide into you.

You look at him, brows furrowed as you slide your left hand to his cheek.

He breathes out quickly before smashing his lips to yours, “Fuck you feel so good.”

You moan against his lips, walls clenching his cock as he thrusts in and out at a slow pace. He had you feeling so good within a matter of seconds, the way you felt from the high mixing in made you feel like you were on top of the world.

Nothing mattered but Zach.

No busy work days.

No constant emails, calls, and texts.

Your world was silent for a moment, for the first time in a while.

“Fuck.” You whine out, digging your heels into the back of his thigh, “Gonna cum.” You smoosh your lips to his, moaning against them as you cum undone around him.

“That’s it, baby.” Zach whispers as his hands press harder into your body, “Just let go for me.” He presses his lips to your forehead before resting his own against yours.

He slides a hand up to your cheek, running his thumb over it as he groans lowly. You slide your thumb to his lips, pulling it down slightly as you moan out, your voice soft when you speak, “You sound so hot.”

He groans at your words, moving to bury his face into your neck as he thrusts into you deeper, “Keep talking, please.”

Your hand slides around to grip the hair at the nape of his neck, “You make me feel so good, Zach.” You gasp when you feel his hand slide down to rub on your clit, “Fuck.”

You tilt your head back and he lifts his head to attach his lips to your skin. You squeeze his cock, earning a moan from him.

You smirk slightly, “Does that feel good?” You tilt his head up to peck his lips and he nods, “Fuck, baby. Yes, so good.”

His hands grip your body and he rolls on top of you, your legs instantly locking ankles on his lower back, “Where do you want me?”

You arch your back, moaning out as he keeps his thrusts as steady as he can, “Just.. pull out if you can.”

He nods, connecting his lips to yours again. You drag your nails up his back, and he thrusts his cock into you, “Sh-“

You feel his cock quickly disappear from you before feeling his cum pool between your hips. He lifts his head from your shoulder and kisses your cheek before he gets up to get something for you to wipe off with.

Your eyes follow him as you regain your breath. He hands you a towel and you smile as you take it.

“So do you want to start the movie where you started distracting me or?” He looks at you with a smirk and you roll your eyes as you sit up, “Hey now. I’m not the one who started the neck kissing.”

“But you did start the kissing.. I mean, the whole sucking the smoke from my mouth?”

You feel your cheek redden and you fight back a smirk, “Mm.”

He nods, slipping on his sweats before bending down to grab his shirt for you. He crawls on the bed, “don’t think I definitely didn’t pick up on that little peck before you backed away “

You roll your eyes, laughing as you take and slip on the shirt, “whatever helps you sleep at night, honey.” You look over at him and he leans back, pulling you with him, “I’m sure hoping it’s you now, but.. yeah.”

You smile, leaning into his body and watching as he hits play, “If that’s what you want.” His hand moves to intertwined his fingers with yours, “If it’s what you want, too.”

You squeeze his hand, “It is.”

——

A little bit into the movie, you’re laying on Zach with your head on his chest and you let out a quiet sigh, “Thank you.”

His thumb moves over your shoulder, “For what, sweetheart?”

You laugh slightly, “Well, not only getting yourself hired as my new dealer.” You smirk and look up at him and he looks down at you, “Oh yeah? Who says I’m taking new clientele.”

You roll your eyes, “Please. I have you wrapped around my finger.”

“And I love every second of it.” Zach leans down and pecks your lips, causing you to smile and giggle slightly, “And for making me feel like a normal person for once.”

He brushes hair from your face, “I figured you could use a little time out of any sort of light, hence why it’s so dark in here if you didn’t- yeah.”

You reach up, laying a hand on his cheek, "Gosh, how lucky am I? You do have a sweet side, Zach Justice." You scrunch your nose, smirking slightly as he smiles at your joke, "Do you think people will judge me for falling for my weed dealer?"

He reaches up lazily hold your wrist as his head turns to press a kiss to your palm, “I only care what you think, baby.”

——

Thank you for being patient.. I’ve had major writers block this last week or so and I’m trying to push through it. Let me know how you liked it!

As always, I love you all! Thank you for reading!🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #Zach justice #Zach justice smut #zach justice x reader smut #dealer!zach justice #dealer!zachjustice #dealer x reader #dirty Zach justice #zach justice fluff #zach justice dropouts podcast #zach justice fanfiction #zach justice fanfic #zach justice x y/n #zach justice dropouts #zach justice x reader #Zach justice smut one shot #famous!reader #famous!y/n #influencer!reader #smut #fluff #smut writer #fluffy smut

[crazycoke-addict]

My 13 reasons why season 4 review *SPOILERS*

13 reasons why is Netflix’s controversial show. Many People hate it, while others try to understand what the show was doing, so when the final season came out there was a lot of talk on what they think about the final season. I decided to watch season 4 because I wanted to know how they were going end a show that’s so controversial. So here’s my review on the show.

13 reasons why season 4 was aired on June 4 so it’s been on Netflix for 10 or 11 days. The 4th season is the final seasons where the character clay and his friends are getting ready to graduate as well as keeping a secret. 13 reasons why is a show that their goal is to have people start up a conversation about serious topics that affects teenagers. The show however tends to be controversial to the point where people have said its glorifying suicide and experts have even said its increased suicide for teens. For someone who hasn’t seen the first two seasons, I’m going to tell you a little recap for what I have heard about. Season 1 is what the book is about which is about a girl name Hannah Baker commits suicide and leaves tapes behind that tells you that there are 13 reasons on what she did and the characters had a role as well. Season 2 is about her trial, but just because Hannah is dead, clay sees her and later on interacts with her. There are Polaroids that we later found out that the athletes at the schools have been sexually assaulting the female students and it’s been going on for years. Season 3 is a murder-mystery type where the gang are trying to figure who killed the rapist Bryce Walker and during that try to humanise Bryce by trying to give him a redemption. Now here’s my review on season 4 and it’s going to contain spoilers so you have been warned.

I felt like season 4 had more school related type of elements than the previous seasons, what I mean is that yes, they are teenagers in high school but the show never acknowledges it, we are more focus on the main plot and even subplots thar them being a high school student isn’t that important. Season 4 however shows the characters doing a lot of school related type due to it being their last year of school until they go to college. In the second episode titled “college tour” where they go to a university called Sanderson and look at the campus to give them some ideas if they want to go there. In the fourth episode “Senior Camping trip” as said on the title, they go camping for their senior year. They have a party which may not be school related it’s more like get together and have a celebration because it’s their last party as high school teenagers. They also had their prom which happens in the second last episode and they also had their college interviews. These stuff are school related just like I said but that doesn’t mean this season is about only that. I wanted to point that out I find it interesting and I think maybe it’s because their last year in high school.

At the beginning of the season, we are at a funeral than it will cut to a black screen saying six months earlier meaning that someone that we know will die, but questions is who? Throughout the season, there are some cases where it seems like one of the characters get themselves into a death situation, it’s like they were messing with the viewers. In the party episode, while intoxicated Clay is driving a car way too fast and Zach’s in the car with him. The car flips over, so the first reaction is.. Is this it? Is Zach the one dies? But in the next episode, both clay and Zach are fine with Zach only having an injured knee and it’s not bought up ever again. Then there’s also an episode where Tyler is caught by Tony and Clay where they believe he was buying guns again, the dealer pulls out a gun than the screen goes black but you hear the gun going off. In the next episode, tony and clay finds out that Tyler was working with the sheriff department to help them out get illegal guns off the street. But as you can see both tony, clay and Tyler are ok. It’s not until the end of the prom episode, where we find out that it’s actually Justin who dies. It was like they were building this tension up by messing with the audience when their favourite characters are in near death experience but than in the next episode, everyone’s ok and it’s not mentioned ever again. It’s not until the episode prom until we find out that it’s Justin’s funeral that they are attending.

Like how the promotional posters were hinting at us and the introduction of Winston in season 3. Winston and the football team try to find answers on who actually murdered Bryce Walker. Winston develops some friendships with Tyler, Alex and even Zach to get information on what their relationship was on both Monty and Alex. Meanwhile in one episode, Clay has been getting suspicious phone calls by someone using Monty’s phone. Later on, You realise that it’s the football playing a prank on him to see his reactions. My problem with this is that they made it seem like Winston was going to play a bigger role in this season but at one point, he’s not even in an episode. The Diego character came out of nowhere because for someone who knew Monty and was best friends with him than why wasn’t Diego introduced in either season 2 or 3. When Winston later on finds out that it was Alex who murdered Bryce than all the motives to give Monty justice is thrown out the window. You could say that Winston realised that he needs to let go of the past and find peace within himself but him even trying to get justice for Monty in the first place doesn’t even make sense. They only met two times and in the first time, Monty beats him. That relationship was low key toxic and I thought that the part Winston is dancing with Monty was just to make the audience love these characters even more when Winston deserved better to hang on a guy who wouldn’t even acknowledge him if he was still alive today.

Many of the character arcs were ok, but some felt very questionable. I didn’t know what was happening or what the point was with many of the character arcs. I wasn’t a big fan of Tony Padilla in this season. His arc throughout the season involved around fights and being a bit stubborn. I understand that may be it was because he didn’t want let go of the past. Him doing boxing matches didn’t make sense to him because as far as learning back in season 3, he was on a strike. It probably meant that he shouldn’t be starting fights outside because boxing matches are legal. Zach’s character arc was the another one I thought didn’t make sense. Throughout the season, he was drunk and in the prom episode he was about do something that he himself was against and that was taken advantage of a girl. Everything turned out to be okay in the end, but I just didn’t understood were all of this was coming from on Zach’s part.

I wanna talk about Justin Foley since his arc was more memorable. Justin’s character arc was the one who hit the most, for someone who was never watch the first 2 seasons, I’m aware that Justin was trying his best to a better person. When it was mentioned that he had aids and it was due to sex work. There were two parts of me thinking. The first part was that he was embarrassed to tell his friends and family that he was a sex worker and I just wanna say that you shouldn’t feel embarrassed to be one. If your occupation is something that society shames you for than its their fault for not protecting you, to make sure that you’re still safe when doing your job. The other part was that it felt like they were shaming sex work. It would make sense if he got from used up needles when he was still taking drugs. It seems like Justin wasn’t ready to let go of the past even though where he is now is better. He kept hanging around his old neighbor hood than later on, his mother dies. In the beginning of the episode, Justin was doing so good. He was becoming someone that he needed to be even if someone (Jessica) wasn’t a big fan of it because they knew the Justin who kept relapsing and was calling out for help than the Justin who just wanna to get better. It was really sad to see this character die and yes like everyone, I did cry.

So here’s my review on 13 reasons why season 4. I know I didn’t throw some of the topics that many people have been talking about in the show but I just wanna talk about the ones that made me think a lot after watching the final episode.

#13 reasons why #clay jensen #alex standall #jessica davis #justin foley #zach dempsey #tyler down #tony padilla #bryce walker #montgomery de la cruz

[fyeahspiderman]

Are younger cisgender, straight men thinking about gender differently than their fathers? Yes, says Tony Revolori, the 23-year-old actor from Anaheim. He was best known as Zero Moustafa from Wes Anderson’s The Grand Budapest Hotel until two years ago, when he made Marvel history by playing Peter Parker’s frenemy Flash Thompson in Spider-Man: Homecoming. Despite receiving death threats from some Marvel fans who expected his character to look like the blond, blue-eyed bully of comics past (and to be caught at the intersection of toxic masculinity and white supremacy), he’ll be reprising his role in this year’s Spider-Man: Far From Home. We talked about boyhood, racism, bullying, building better futures for all bodies, and the eye-opening privilege of realizing you’ve never had to think about gender.

Thomas Page McBee: When did you first realize your gender identity?

Tony Revolori: You know, that's a funny thing. I've grown up with the privilege of knowing I'm a man all my life, and having that feeling that I know who I am and I'm comfortable with what was given. So I've never really acknowledged or even realized that until quite recently, actually. I was working with Zach Barack on Spiderman: Far From Home. Zach’s trans, and just hanging out with him for four months really made me realize the privilege of not thinking about my identity as a man. So, weirdly enough, I didn't have that revelation until 22 years into my life.

TPM: Did you ever struggle with expectations of masculinity growing up?

TR: I was a very, very shy kid, so I wasn't really out in front of people. I really broke out of my shell when I was about 16. I mean, obviously, I had moments where people were saying: "You're expected to do this, you're expected to do that." And I would just follow them blindly, of course. Because as a kid, that's what you think is right. When adults — who obviously are your teachers, your mentors, your heroes — are telling you that something is just the way it is, you listen to them. But as I grew older and more independent, I learned what I thought was right and I started making my own decisions, and really, I kind of just didn't care from that point. And at this point, I truly just give no f*cks.

TPM: Do you feel that racism intersects with what we might call "toxic masculinity" in terms of how people treat you as a person of color versus how they treat me, as a white man?

TR: Absolutely. It's kind of a strange thing when you're given all these opportunities as a white person, and then you see a person of color succeed, and then that type of masculinity, that racism, that bravado come in.

TPM: Since you play a bully-ish type in Spiderman, did you deal with bullies growing up? And what would you do differently now if you went back to that time?

TR: You know, there's a difference between what I had to deal with when I was a kid, and what people deal with now. Back when I was a kid, I had a pretty big nose and I was the target of ridicule because I had long hair. People said I had “girl hair” and that I looked like a girl, and I didn't give a f*ck. I would wear it as a badge of honor. The way it works now is much more dangerous than it was back then. You have people who are anonymous online, not being held accountable for their actions. When I was cast as Flash Thompson — a 6'2" blonde, blue-eyed jock in the comics, who I obviously don't look like — people got really mad and sent me a bunch of death threats. At first, I was doing what I did when I was a kid, which was taking what they say, and owning it. But when you have thousands of people angry at you, you can't respond to each and every one of them. Every time you respond to one, five more pop up.

TPM: Yeah, and clearly very difficult to deal with when you’re a teenager or a child. The advice we got growing up was walk away or turn the other cheek, but it's hard when there's no escape, you know, like how do you do that when you can't...

TR: Right, you go home, and your Instagram's there, and for whatever reason we’ve agreed that our validation comes from the social media. So when they feel hurt on social media, and that's where they seek their validation from—it’s troubling.

TPM: What's something you've had to unlearn about masculinity as you've gotten older, and how did you realize that you had to unlearn it, and how did you do it?

TR: I was babysitting my little brother, and he turned on My Little Pony. For a split second, I was about to say, "Stop watching, that's a girl's show.” And then I stopped myself. I was like, you do you. Do whatever you want. If you want to keep watching My Little Pony, you can keep watching My Little Pony. Now I'm trying to live every day like that. We've been conditioned into so many things as kids, but, you know, slowly and surely, I'm breaking through those things by myself, and hopefully helping others to break through as well. I'm just trying not to pass it on to the next generation.

TPM: Do you think that young men in the US are experiencing gender differently than our fathers?

TR: I think that people are more open to the idea of different realities in general. A black guy isn’t always the first to die in a horror movie; a brown person isn’t always the token best friend or a drug dealer; an Asian guy can actually be a lead in a movie; a woman can not only be a lead, but a bad-ass superhero. We’re experiencing this new wave of telling these stories so that we can do them justice.

I remember watching the first Spiderman movie when I was a kid, and no one was Hispanic or brown. I think there was like one black character who said two lines and that was it. But I fell in love with that story, I wanted to be in that story. When I auditioned for Spiderman a long time ago, thinking of all these scenarios why a brown man could be in the movie, why a brown man should be in the movie, how we could explain it in the script. And when I got the role, years later, I was watching this movie with my little brother who was six years old, which is how old I was when the first Spiderman came out, and it was amazing to see him watching so many diverse people up on screen. So, if he wants to be an actor, which he does, he’ll never have to go through the process of asking himself, “How can I explain why I deserve to be on screen, How can I explain why I need to be here?” He can just be there. I think that’s beautiful.

#tony revolori #mcu cast #articles #long post

[oscopelabs]

Elvis, Truelove and the Stolen Boy: The Tragic Machismo of Nick Cassavetes’ ‘Alpha Dog’ by Amy Nicholson

[Last year, Musings paid homage to Produced and Abandoned: The Best Films You’ve Never Seen, a review anthology from the National Society of Film Critics that championed studio orphans from the ‘70s and ‘80s. In the days before the Internet, young cinephiles like myself relied on reference books and anthologies to lead us to films we might not have discovered otherwise. Released in 1990, Produced and Abandoned was a foundational piece of work, introducing me to such wonders as Cutter’s Way, Lost in America, High Tide, Choose Me, Housekeeping, and Fat City. (You can find the full list of entries here.) Our first round of Produced and Abandoned essays included Angelica Jade Bastién on By the Sea, Mike D’Angelo on The Counselor, Judy Berman on Velvet Goldmine, and Keith Phipps on O.C. and Stiggs. Today, Musings concludes our month-long round of essays about tarnished gems, in the hope they’ll get a second look. Or, more likely, a first. —Scott Tobias, editor.]

A decade before the presidency that elevated insults like “betacuck” and “soyboy” into political discourse, Nick Cassavetes made Alpha Dog, a cautionary tragedy about masculinity that audiences ignored. Time for a reappraisal. Alpha Dog is about a real murder. Over a three-day weekend in August of 2000, 15-year-old Zach Mazursky—in reality, named Nicholas Markowitz—is kidnapped and killed by the posse of 20-year-old San Fernando Valley drug dealer Johnny Truelove (Emile Hirsch) with a grudge against Zach’s older brother. No one thought the boy would die, not his main babysitter Frankie (Justin Timberlake), not the girls invited to party with “Stolen Boy,” and not even the boy himself, played with naive perfection by Anton Yelchin, who played video games and pounded beers assuming that his new captor-friends would eventually take him home.

Cassavetes’ daughter went to the same high school as Nicholas Markowitz. The murderers were neighborhood kids and he wanted to understand how fortunate sons with their whole lives ahead of them wound up in prison. The trigger man, Ryan Hoyt—“Elvis” in the film—had never even gotten a speeding ticket. Prosecutor Ron Zonen hoped the publicity around Alpha Dog would help the public spot the real-life Johnny, named Jesse James Hollywood, who was still on the lam despite being one of America’s Most Wanted. So the lawyers gave Cassavetes access to everything: crime scene photos, trial transcripts, psychological profiles, police reports, and their permission to contact the criminals and their parents. Cassavetes even took his actors to meet their counterparts, driving Justin Timberlake to a maximum security prison to get the vibe of the actual Frankie, and introducing Sharon Stone to Nicholas Markowitz’s mother, a broken woman who attempted suicide a dozen times in the years after her son's death.

Alpha Dog, pronounced Cassavetes, was “95 percent accurate.” Which was part of why it got buried, thanks to Jesse James Hollywood’s arrest just weeks after the film wrapped. Cassavetes hastily wrote a new ending to the movie, but his problems were just beginning. Hollywood’s lawyers insisted Alpha Dog would prevent their client from getting a fair trial, and used the threat of a mistrial to force Zonen off the case. “I don't know what Zonen was thinking, handing over the files,” gloated Hollywood’s defense team. “It was stupid.”

The publicity, and the delays, dragged out the pain for Markowitz’s family, especially when they heard Cassavetes had paid Hollywood’s father an, er, consulting fee. “Where is the justice in that?” asked the victim's brother. “This just goes on and on, and I’m spending my whole life in a courtroom.”

The film, too, was pushed back a year from its Sundance premiere. Despite casting a visionary young ensemble—Alpha Dog was my own introduction to Yelchin, Ben Foster, Olivia Wilde, Amanda Seyfried, Amber Heard, and the realization that Timberlake, that kid from N*SYNC, could actually act—no one noticed when it slid into theaters in January of 2007. It wasn’t just the bad press. It was that audiences couldn’t get past that Cassavetes’ last film was The Notebook. No way could the guy behind the biggest romantic weepy of a generation make something raw and cool.

But he had. Alpha Dog is a stunning movie about machismo and fate, two tag-team traits that destroy lives. Think Oedipus convincing himself he can outwit the oracle of Delphi. But Sophocles’ Oedipus telegraphs its intentions, elbowing the audience to see the end at the beginning. Greeks sitting down in 405 BC knew they were watching a tale that came full circle. Every step Oedipus takes away from his patricidal destiny just moves him closer to it.

If you map Alpha Dog’s script, instead of a loop, it looks like a horizontal line that plummets off a cliff. For most of its running time, Alpha Dog could pass for a coming-of-age flick where a sheltered kid with an over-protective mom (Sharon Stone) taps into his own self-confidence, right up until the scene where he tumbles into his own grave. Audiences who’d missed the news articles about the case weren’t clued into the climax. Cassavetes doesn’t offer any hints or flash-forwards, not even an ominous “based-on-a-true-story.” (The film might have been more successful if he had.) Instead, he lulls you into joining the kegger, watching Zach crack open beer after beer as though he expects to live forever. “There’s a movie sensibility that the film doesn’t conform to,” said Cassavetes. “You don’t watch this film. You endure it.”

As Zach, his eyes red-rimmed from bong rips, not tears, is shuttled between party dens and wealthy homes, he’s given several chances to escape. He’s even revealed to be a Tae Kwan Do blackbelt who can jokingly flip his captor-buddy Frankie (Justin Timberlake) into a bathtub. But Zach stays put—he doesn’t want to get his big brother Jake (Ben Foster) in more trouble, not realizing that Johnny is too busy making nervous phone calls to his lawyer and his aggro father Sonny (Bruce Willis) to get around to asking Jake for the $1200 in ransom money.

Zach’s death is disorienting, almost as if Psycho's Marion Crane got murdered in the second-to-last reel. In a minivan en route to his execution, he innocently tells Frankie he wants learn to play guitar. “It bugs me that I don’t know how to do anything,” he sighs. Meanwhile Johnny assures his dad that there’s no need to call off the killing. “These guys are such fuck-ups, nothing's gonna happen,” he shrugs, a rare example of cross-cutting that defuses tension in order to make the shock of the gunfire even worse. Up until the last second—even after Frankie binds him with duct tape—a sobbing Zach still can’t believe Frankie would hurt him, and honestly, Frankie can’t believe it himself. And Yelchin’s own early death makes you ache for him to get a happy ending, which Cassavetes dangles just out of reach.

This is how evil happens, says Cassavetes. Masterminds are rare. Instead, people like Frankie can be basically good, but can also be panicky and passive and selfish. Shoving Zach in Johnny’s van was an idiotic impulse by upper middle-class kids, who flipped out when they realized the snatching could get them a lifetime sentence. There’s no honor or glory in the violence. Johnny, the cowardly ringleader, talks tough, but orders his most craven friend, Elvis (Shawn Hatosy), to pull the trigger while he and his girlfriend Angela (Olivia Wilde) get drunk on margaritas. And after the murder, one side effect is that Johnny can’t get an erection. When Angela tries to get Johnny in the mood in their hideout motel, the walls close in on him, suffocating the mood.  

Away from his boys, Johnny is weak. Surrounded by them, he's the king. Alpha Dog sets up a culture of animalistic dominance. Johnny’s rental house is basically a primate cage at the zoo, only decorated with weight benches and Scarface posters. All of Johnny’s boys jockey to be his favorite and tear each other down in order to bump up their own rank. Kindness is weakness. When a fellow dealer with the ridiculous nickname Bobby 911 cruises by to negotiate a sale, he snarls at a guy who vouches for him: “You don’t need to tell him I’m good for it, man!”

Elvis, the future shooter, is the lowest member of the pack. He can’t ease into the group without Johnny ordering him to go pick up his pit-bull's poop in the backyard. Why do they pick on Elvis? He owes Johnny a bit of money, but the source of the scorn is simply group think. No one wants to be nice to the outcast, and Elvis is just too sincere to be taken seriously. When Elvis offers to get Johnny a beer, the guys tease him for being in love with Johnny. When he says sure, he does care about Johnny, they twist words into a gay panic joke. Elvis can’t win—they won’t let him—so he literally kills to prove his worth, and winds up sentenced to death row, where the real boy, just 21 at the time of the shooting, remains today. Another life wasted.

Cassavetes humanizes the killers because he wants us to understand how their micro decisions add up to murder. Not just the gunmen. Everyone’s a little to blame. The kids who got drunk with “Stolen Boy” and didn’t call the police. The girls who told Zach that being kidnapped made him sexy. Even Zach’s older step-brother Jake, an addict with a twitchy temper who escalates his war with Johnny to a fatal breaking point. Neither boy will back down over a $1200 debt, and there’s an awful split screen call when Johnny dials Jake intending to bring Zach home, but Jake is so boiling over with anger, his Bugs Bunny voice shrieking with outrage, that Johnny just hangs up the phone.

The opening credits, a montage of the cast’s own old home videos, underline that these were young and happy children—the kind of kids people point to as examples of the suburban American ideal. Over a treacly cover of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” we watch these real life boys being cultured to be brave: riding bikes, falling off dive-boards, running around with toy guns, going through the rituals of young manhood, from bar mitzvahs to karate lessons. Yelchin—recognizably dark-eyed and solemn even as a toddler—grins wearing plastic vampire teeth.

It takes another ten minutes for Yelchin’s character to sneak into the film sideways in a profile shot eating dinner with his parents, played by Sharon Stone and David Thornton. His Zach is barely even visible as brash Jake barges into the scene to beg for money. They say no, Jake stomps out, and Zach finally makes himself seen when he runs after his brother, begging to go anywhere less suffocating. Zach’s mom loves him so much that she watches him sleep. “I’m not fucking eight!” he yelps. He’s 15—practically a man, in his own imagination—and desperate to get away, even if it means mimicking Jake, a Jewish kid who’s so scrambled that he has a Hebrew tattoo on his clavicle and a swastika inked on his back. Jake starts to say that he wishes his own mom cared about him that much, but as soon as he gets vulnerable, he spins the moment into a joke. “Boo for me,” Jake grins, and takes another swig of beer.

“You could say it’s about drugs or guns or disaffected youth, but this whole thing is about parenting,” grunts Bruce Willis’ Sonny Truelove. “It’s about taking care of your children. You take care of yours, I take care of mine.” He’s half-right—his parenting is half to blame. Sonny and his best friend Cosmo (Harry Dean Stanton) taught Johnny to bully his friends. Cosmo, looking haggard and hollow, mocks Johnny for having one girlfriend. “You gotta plow some fucking fields,” he bellows. “Men are not supposed to be monopolous!” Not that “monopolous” is a real word, and not that Cosmo fends off women himself, except in his own big talk.

Cosmo and Sonny’s own posturing gradually emerges as being more dangerous than Johnny’s because it's more integrated into society. They’re the type of creeps who rewrite the rulebook to suit them, and attack journalists who try to tell the truth. When a fictitious documentarian asks Sonny about his son's drug connections, the father shrugs, “Did he sell a little weed? Sure.” But when the interviewer presses him further, Sonny snaps, “I’m a taxpayer and I’m a citizen and you are a jerk-off.”

Cassavetes, of course, understands growing up with a father who left a giant footprint to fill. His father, John Cassavetes, the writer-director of Shadows and Faces and A Woman Under the Influence, was one of the major pioneers of independent cinema. He died when Nick was 30, before his son attempted to take up his legacy. “We never really talked film theory,” said Cassavetes. “My experience with my dad was more along the lines of how to be a man, how to be yourself, how to free yourself from what society tells you to do, how to release yourself as an artist.”

It makes sense that Cassavetes would make his own ambitious, and maddeningly singular film. And perhaps it even makes sense to him that fate has yet to give him the reward he’s earned. Alpha Dog deserves to be acknowledged as one of the most incisive examinations of machismo and the banality of evil. But like his fumbling criminals, he knows he’s not really in charge of his life. Admitted Cassavetes, “I'm not smart enough to really have a master plan for my career.”

#alpha dog #alpha dog movie #nick cassavetes #john cassavetes #justin timberlake #emile hirsch #ben foster #amanda seyfried #olivia wilde #Nicholas Markowitz #Bruce Willis #Harry Dean Stanton #Oscilloscope Laboratories #O-Scope #musings #film writing

[dj-syrup]

The Unnamed, Episode 01x07: The Drapes of Wrath

It was a dark and stormy night, and Brandon Thomas was still up. He found the sound of the pounding rain against the massive exterior windows of The Nest to be a soothing white-noise background to his work.

Thomas rarely listened to music while he was working. The words in the music often muddled with the words in his brain, and if he wasn't careful, his computer code would start looking like song lyrics.

He had had someone recommend instrumental music, music without words, but he found it boring and repetitive.

And so he listened to the rain.

A notification pinged into the lower left corner of one of several computer screens Thomas was utilizing. It was a message, over Telegram, from someone named Dwayne.

"I know who you are," it read, "and I need your help."

Thomas' keyboard crackled for a minute. "Who are you?" he asked, and after a second, "And where did you get this number?"

"I found your website," said Dwayne. "You didn't really hide it. I'm Dwayne."

Thomas felt something odd. The writing was slow, simplistic, probably not written at a grade level any higher than sixth or seventh. But he had found his website.

Shortly after being hired by Mr. Stewart, Thomas had put together a small website. He had kept it quiet from the rest of the team, such as it existed in those days, and had been careful to not show up too much online.

The site itself was small and not designed for everyone to find. It wasn't linked to by anyone, at least, not that Thomas knew of, and it didn't rank very well in search rankings. Thomas had designed the site so that it could only be found by someone who knew exactly what they were looking for. That Dwayne had found the site meant one of two things: either Dwayne had worked around the security features that Thomas had put in place, or Dwayne was in serious trouble and legitimately needed Thomas' help.

Judging from Dwayne's vocabulary, and the fact that he had already asked for help, meant that the second option was much more likely.

Thomas' keyboard crackled again. "You have my attention. What can I do for you?"

"I live in Jersey," replied Dwayne. "My family needs your help. My dad is very mean and very angry a lot of the time, and sometimes he hurts my mom and my brothers and sisters. Mom keeps telling me to stay out of the way, to not do anything about it, but I'm tired of it."

"Are you safe right now?"

"Yes, I'm at school. I use one of the library computers after school so that I can do research and figure stuff out for my classes.

"Can you help me?"

"Yes, I can. I'll get back to you."

The team was, for once, fairly easy to convince. The situation was clear, and there were children in danger. Thomas hadn't even finished explaining the situation to Mr. Stewart before Mr. Stewart had signed off on it.

The question at this point, then, was not if to attack the situation, but rather how to attack the situation.

"We could just kill him," said Ling, and then paused. "But I don't think that's the best way."

"In my opinion," said Donnelly, "men who beat their wives deserve all the horrible things that the world has to offer. I agree, though, Ling. Killing him is not the best answer here."

"We could gather enough proof to put him in jail for what he's done," suggested Winn.

"Hang on a sec," said Thomas. He was Googling something. "Yeah, that's what I thought. That would put him away for long enough to get the family out of the situation, but I don't like that solution either. The family would live in fear of what would happen if he tracked them down."

"I've lived with fear like that before," said Ling. "I don't wish it on children."

"What about scaring him off?" asked Port. "We could put together some muscle, extract the family, and be very clear about what we will do to him if he shows up around his family again."

"I like that solution better than any of the others I've heard so far," said Ling, "but I still don't like it. Yeah, we will scare him off, and he might stay away for a while. But if I know people like this, and I do, he'll get his courage back and decide to show up again." Ling paused for a moment, her chin pinched between her thumb and index finger. "Posit: the US justice system is flawed."

Donnelly, who had also seen the movie Sneakers, continued. "Consequence: people who do horrible things play the flaws in the system to avoid punishment."

"Result: because of the people taking advantage of the broken system, it is harder to fix than it would be otherwise."

"Conclusion: we have to fix the unjust system, or we have to rig it so that it just." Donnelly had a rather proud expression on his face for having figured this out.

Meanwhile, no-one else in the room understood what had happened, except for the last bit about rigging the system.

Mr. Stewart looked back and forth between Ling and Donnelly. "Explain."

"We have to rig the system." Donnelly and Ling said it at the same time.

"I know," replied Mr. Stewart. "Caught that. Why?"

Thomas was finally catching up. "How long was Brock Turner in jail for?"

Winn knew the answer right off the top of her head. "Three months."

"Three months," said Thomas. "For raping an unconscious girl in a back alleyway. Does that sound just to you?"

"Of course not," protested. Mr. Stewart.

"What we're saying is that the only way to get justice for this family is to force a system that usually isn't just to be just."

"How do you propose we do that?" asked Mr. Stewart.

Donnelly piped up. "Ling, do you still have that bag of cocaine from the school job?"

Winn butted in. "Wait, what?"

Ling answered. "Do you guys remember how I went rogue while you guys were working with Zach's school?"

She was referring to a drug bust that they had pulled off. Several of the central players in the drug ring had been bullying Port's son, Zach, which was why the team got involved. While the rest of the team was trying to figure out who the bullies were, Ling had found the person paying the bullies.

The team nodded.

"Well, I got a bag of cocaine from a drug dealer in the middle of that," said Ling. "It ended up being extremely pure cocaine, and I thought it might be useful at some point. I held onto it.

"Donnelly, I like where you're going with this."

The rest of the team was starting to get frustrated. Thomas cut in. "Where is he going with this?"

"We could frame the dad," said Donnelly.

Their discussions earlier in the month had quelled the team's philosophical worryings about doing the right thing versus doing the legal thing, and so the convincing was already done. Mr. Stewart clarified that under no circumstances was Ling to keep illegal drugs from drug busts again, and then laughed at the fact that he had had to make that distinction at all.

Their plan was, in principle, simple. They were going to set Ling loose on the house, let her monitor it in every way she could think of. They wanted to make sure that there was enough evidence to get the dad on domestic violence.

Once they got enough to clarify that, they were going to get him out of the house for a couple days. The team hadn't quite figured out how they were going to do that. Dwayne hadn't contacted Thomas again and so their information on the situation was limited.

While the dad was out of the house, the team was going to do the setup in the house. This was going to involve the bag of cocaine, as well as some chemistry equipment that a set designer and forensic analyst were already getting ready.

Shortly after the dad's return, police acting on an anonymous tip would knock on the door of the house. Seeing the luggage in the living room, and the glass on the kitchen table, they would arrest the father and put him in jail. The wife and children would come clean about what kind of person he was, and that the cocaine dealing was really no surprise, and he would land in court.

At this point, everything would be up to the lawyers. They would pound this out in court. Once the father was in prison, Mr. Stewart's personal travel coordinator would put them in a new place, with a new house, and Winn's team of researchers would find a source of money so that the wife could feed her family.

The final touch, the finishing flourish, was this: between the cocaine and the abuse, the wife would be able to go to court, divorce her husband, and get full custody of the children. The children would all be grown by the time he got out, and a man can't be much of a father from prison.

It was a simple plan, an elegant plan, a plan full of catharsis and messing with the system and getting justice in an unjust system.

But even the simplest plans have shades of possible error, and the most elegant plans still go awry.

Rather than use the standard utility truck for their mobile base of operations in Jersey, Winn managed to rent the house across the street from the family in question. This gave them much more space and electricity, as well as access to amenities like toilets and beds.

Thomas had, over the course of several conversations, gotten the necessary information from Dwayne. Dwayne's last name was Jensen, and he lived with his father, mother and three siblings in a three-bedroom townhouse in Jersey. Dwayne's father was named Jordan. He was 37 years old and had a prior record for reckless driving.

Ling had taken Donnelly and both Fosters with her. They had taken an incredibly wide variety of tools with them, all of the "point this thing at something a long ways away and learn something about it" variety. They had also taken a selection of lethal and non-lethal weapons. They weren't expecting to run into any issues, but Donnelly didn't want to be caught with his pants down.

By Ling's count, counting gun scopes and counting binoculars as two, they had taken over 25 telescopes of various sorts with them. They had also taken a set of shotgun mics so that they could hear what was going on inside the house. They also had an incredibly accurate laser rangefinder, which they could bounce off the windows to read the vibrations in the windows themselves (serving as a backup for the shotgun mics.)

Collecting the information took a couple of days, and nobody enjoyed doing it. Donnelly and Ling on separate occasions thought to dash across the street to stop something bad from happening. The ethics of this situation were a bit tricky. They had the power, the strength, to stop the horrible things going on in the house across the street. If they did this, however, Jordan would find out and things would be very bad. If the dad spun a story of how he had been set up in court it would blow the operation and land Mr. Stewart in a great deal of trouble.

In the end, they walked away with three days worth of complete footage across five cameras and six microphones. The evidence would be admissible in court, as long as it was clear that the team had made the recordings at her request. Thomas had had to clarify this with Dwayne, and ultimately a phone call from Winn was required to bring the mother onboard with the plan.

They had completed stage one of the plan. They had spent three days listening to the cries and tears of a family being terrorized by one man. They had watched as the mother had applied layers of foundation to her face and worn sleeves to her wrists to hide the scars and bruises from her husband. They had listened as every day, before school, the father had told his children that they went telling lies about him at school, that he would beat them when he got home.

Donnelly had been a little on the edge about the morality of this assignment before recording all of this. He had no qualms about it after.

The tapes revealed that the dad had a taste for fine brandy. A mailing was put in the mail for him, telling him (truthfully) that he had been given a seat on a tour of various fine distilleries, and it was an invitation that he didn't pass up.

The Unnamed had three days to rig the place.

"No, that piece goes there!" The set dresser had come to oversee the assembly of the distressed chemistry stuff, and was being very particular about what went where.

"I don't understand this," said Donnelly. "Why does it matter?"

"Because it must be perfect. If it is not perfect, the police will smell a rat and think something is going on behind the scenes. They will investigate more, and what they find might destroy our plan. That is why it is critical that the Erlenmeyer flask go here and not there."

Donnelly shifted the flask a quarter of an inch to the left.

The set dresser nodded, a quick jerk of the head really, and then moved on to the next piece.

Donnelly shook his head.

Once the chemistry glass was set up, the drug paraphernalia scattered around the house, and the family was educated on how to lie to the judge and lawyers, the only left to do was wait.

And wait they did.

Jordan's plane landed at JFK International Airport a day after The Unnamed had finished their trap. As had been arranged, Sergeant Foster picked him up from the airport in a taxi and had driven him back to his house. The police had been notified and were en route. The Unnamed were back in the house across the street, waiting to see if things would get ugly.

They did.

The team had placed a variety of microphones and cameras inside Dwayne's house, all of which were live streaming to the house across the street.

The look of shock and surprise on Jordan's face as he walked into the kitchen was immediate, directly followed by suspicion and anger. He was being framed, and he could see it clearly.

"Kelly!" he shouted, calling for his wife. "Kelly! What have you been doing here?"

Kelly, who had been hiding in the bedroom, came out to see her husband positively glowering.

What Jordan said next was loud enough that it overloaded the microphones and nearly deafened the team. Jordan took a step toward Kelly and raised his hand to hit her.

Donnelly made for the door at top speed. Ling pulled one of his feet out from under him, tripping him. Donnelly hit the floor hard.

"What was that for?" he demanded. "Do you see what's happening here?"

"I do," said Ling. "Do you honestly think, knowing my story, that I would prevent you from helping an innocent woman in this situation without a good reason? The police just crossed our perimeter. They are 15 minutes away. And if they show up to a visibly battered wife, it will make our case that much stronger."

Donnelly looked back at the cameras. Kelly appeared to have been hit twice across the face; both cheeks were blooming into bright red splotches that Donnelly knew would bruise soon enough.

In a jolt of motion, the NYPD showed up at the front door. After knocking twice, and after Kelly telling them to come in, they came in.

Donnelly watched the cops take it all in -- the bruised and slightly bleeding wife, the father, still red from anger (or was it embarrassment now? Donnelly couldn't tell) and the children, watching in horror. They saw the chemistry equipment, a complete concaine manufacturing operation. They saw the finished product, ready for distribution.

Jordan put his hands in the air.

It was over.

And the relief evident on Kelly's face was as clear and evident as the anger had been on the face of her husband, less than a minute prior.

The defense attorney was cross-examining Mr. Donnelly. The police had testified, an expert witness had verified the authenticity of the cocaine setup, and the team was now being put, one by one, on the witness stand.

"Mr. Donnelly," continued the attorney, droning into his long, white beard, "Where were you on the night in question?"

"You already asked me that," said Donnelly. "I was in the house across the street, watching the events play out on the cameras we had installed in the house in question."

The attorney coughed and continued. "And did you see, on the camera feeds you were watching, the defendant hit his wife?"

"No, but-" The attorney cut him off. "Why not? Your companions agree that they saw it."

"Ling tripped me. I was on my way out the door, before the abuse started, trying to stop the defendant from hitting his wife."

"Interesting." The attorney paused. "Mr. Donnelly, something doesn't add up to me. The domestic abuse, yes, I believe that. But cocaine? Not only does my client show a complete lack of cocaine in his bloodstream, but he doesn't show any drug traces at all, with the exception of alcohol and nicotine. Why would a man not interested in cocaine be making it?

"Mr. Donnelly, I've been doing this a long time. To me, this feels like a setup. Did you, or anyone you know or know of, conspire to frame my client?"

Mr. Stewart's attorney spoke up. "Objection, your honor. Mr. Donnelly is not on trial here."

"Overruled," said the judge. "This question is relevant. Continue, defendant."

The defense attorney turned back to Donnelly.

"Well?"

"No. Neither I, nor anyone I know or know of, tried to frame your client."

The defense attorney looked back to the judge. "I have no further questions."

The rest of the trial went as expected. Donnelly's lie was apparently convincing enough that the defense attorney made no further inquiries, and the forensics lab verified what Mr. Stewart's lab techs had said: it was indeed very pure cocaine.

Jordan Johnson was convicted of multiple counts of domestic abuse, as well as possession of illegal drugs with intent to distribute. Jordan insisted to the very end that he had no idea where it came from. The jury didn't believe him.

Winn and Donnelly were riding back to the nest together, Winn driving and Donnelly riding shotgun.

"You lied under oath today," said Winn. "That can't have been easy."

"I spent three years with the SEALs lying about who I was. This wasn't any harder."

"But still. I worry about you sometimes."

"Why?"

"Well, I guess I worry about everyone. But you... you've been through a lot. Your life can't have been easy.

"That, and, with the way you lied to that jury: how do I know, how do we know, that you're not lying to all of us? And what about the stuff you did as a SEAL? If you wanted to completely massacre everyone in the building, you could. What's stopping you? You clearly can, why don't you?"

Donnelly had to stop and think about what to say to that. Winn was beginning to wonder if he had forgotten, or not heard her at all when he replied.

"You're right, Winn. I could be lying to you all. If I wanted you all dead, I could arrange that.

"Here's the thing, though: so could you. You can do everything I can do. So can Port. So can Thomas. So can Ling. But we have consciences, little things inside us that tell us what is right and what is wrong. Just because I theoretically can doesn't mean I could actually pull it off."

"And what about what we did today? We framed this man. He is going to jail for something that he didn't do. That's wrong, isn't it?"

"There was no good solution here, Winn. You know that. We did the best we could in a really bad situation.Sometimes, justice transcends the justice system. That's what our moral compasses are for, decided when to work with the system and when to work around it."

Winn had no reply to that.

The divorce between Kelly and Jordan went through, and Kelly was working with Mr. Stewart's travel assistant, Barry, to get things set up in a new part of the country.

"Let's talk about the house," said Barry. "Do you have any specific requests?"

"I want it to be big enough, for one, and I want it to be in a nice part of town."

"Well, of course. That's not quite what I meant though. What color do you want it? Do you want it on one level or two? A couple large bedrooms or lots of smaller ones?"

"I don't care about any of that. I just want..."

"Want what?"

"It's stupid."

"I don't care. What is it?"

"I want blinds instead of drapes. My husband, before beating me or my children, would close those hideous green drapes in the living room so that the neighbors couldn't see. I always thought of them as the drapes of his wrath."

"No drapes. Got it."

#action #the unnamed #social justice special forces #gay #lesbian #bisexual #transgender #queer #intersex #asexual #pansexual #everything else #this will probably never happen #but it would be nice

[samandcolbyownme]

Sam originally won the poll, but I got carried away with a Dealer!Zach Justice one which you can find right here.. so now onto Dealer!Sam. Enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, Dealer!Sam, mentions of smoking weed and cigarettes, mentions of drinking, reader is slightly drunk, reader gets high, reader gets cheated on, unprotected sex, biting, scratching, hair pulling, choking, oral (f rec), fingering, creampie, filth

Word count: 3.5k | not edited

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The music was blasting through the club.

You could feel the bass beating within your body each time it thumped out of the speakers.

You were having so much fun.

Key word, were.

As the song changes, you look down at your empty cup, deciding to make your way to the liquor counter, it occurs to you that you haven’t seen your friends in like four songs.

After grabbing your drink your spot Kira. You raise your hand, waving to her and you watch as her eyes go wide and she smiles.

“There she is.” She mouths, pointing towards you. You continue to make your way over when you’re met with them halfway, “Where’s Twyla?”

Kira and Leah look at each other, “She went to the bathroom, she isn’t feeling well.”

You pout slightly, sucking your drink through your straw, “Oh no. It’s her birthday.” Leah nods, “No I know. I think if she pukes a little, she’ll be fine.”

She laughs and you shrug, “Have any of you seen Clayton or any of his friends?”

You feel the energy in the room shift, almost like they didn’t expect you to ask about your own boyfriend.

“What?” You look between them confused before letting out a sigh. You look up, “Oh. There’s Tyler.” You push through them and even though they try to stop you, you pull your arm away.

You walk around the crowed of people and before you can ask Tyler anything, your gaze falls to Twyla making out with Clayton while sitting in his lap.

“What the fuck.” You watch as they snap apart and Kira runs up, “We tried to keep her busy.”

“Wait.” You look at Kira, “You two.. you.. you’re defending her? Supporting this?” You scoff in disgust, “I’m done. I don’t know what kind of friendships and relationships you guys have but I don’t want any fucking part of it.”

You drop your cup on the floor, spilling it over the so called friend’s feet and walk away.

As you walk out of the building, you dig around in your purse to try and find your lighter. You continue to ignore your name being called from behind as you bring the cigarette and lighter up.

You round the corner, taking a long drag as rest your back against the brick wall.

You just needed to take a second to figure out what the fuck you were going to do.

As you keep walking, looking at the semi blurred lights from the cars that pass by and the street lights you walk under, you get a good idea.

You pull out your phone, going to a specific contact, hey Sam are home by chance?

A few minutes goes by and he texts you back, yeah, you need your usual?

You hold the cigarette between your lips as you type, no I’m having a shitty night so I’m just looking for something for me.

He responds right away, I’ll leave the door unlocked, I have to pack a few things, so just come in.

You flick the done cigarette as you cross the road to make your way to Sam’s.

——

You push the door to Sam’s house open, “Sam?” You walk in, closing the door, “I’m here.”

“In the den, sweetheart.”

You smile at the nickname as you kick off your heels.

You walk in towards the living room to get to the back den, “Hey.” You walk in, seeing Sam laid out on a giant white bean bag chair as he packs weed into small baggies, “What’s goin’ on?”

You shake your head, sitting down in the gaming chair infront of the desk, “Well..” you laugh slightly, “My boyfriend cheated on me. With the girl who was said to be my best friend.”

Sam’s mouth drops and he shakes his head, “What the fuck is wrong with people?” He frowns, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You half frown, “It’s okay. I’m now starting to realize how much of jerk he was said to be.” Sam raises his brows and looks down, “Yeah, love will fuck you up more than any drug ever will. Come over here.”

You look at him and he looks up, nodding for you to come over to him. You walk over, sitting down on the beanbag next to him, hands in your lap, “I’m here.”

Sam reaches down, and comes back with a joint, “This is a new strain I literally just got in. Haven’t sold it yet, but it sounds like you could really use it.”

You smile as you take it from his fingers, “Do you let all of your customers try out the new ones?”

He smirks slightly, “I mean Colby, but other than that.” He shakes his head, “Never really let anyone close enough to.”

You didn’t really know what Sam meant by that, but you would soon figure it out.

After taking turns hitting the joint - Sam really was right. You did need this, “Can I ask you a question?” You turn your head, looking at him as he turns his towards you.

Your eyes scan over his face, taking in his red eyes behind the clear frame of his thin, gold framed glasses.

And how his blonde, fluffy hair pokes out from under his bright pink sweatshirt that’s being lit brighter from the bluish purple LED lights.

Your heart was racing, you wanted to kiss him.

“Y/n?” Sam laughs slightly, “You’re here, but you’re not here. Where’d you go?”

You blink a few times and shake your head, “Sorry.” You giggle out, “I’m actually feeling pretty good right now, I think the alcohol in my system prior helped.”

“If you were drinking, how did you get here?” Sam asks, concern in his tone.

“I walked. I was only two blocks over.” You look back over at him and he sighs, “If I would have known, I would have came and got you.”

You smile slightly and shake your head, “I sobered up a little once I seen why I left, you know?”

He nods and you lay a hand on his arm, laughing, “I’m fine, I’m here aren’t I?” You laugh some more and Sam laughs with you, glancing down at your hand on his arm with a slight smile, “Yeah, no I get ya.”

He lays his head back and looks at you, “So anyway, you wanted to ask me something.”

You look at him confused while you think, “Oh! Yeah, yeah.”

You move around slightly so you can turn towards him more, “Do you remember the first, time I came to buy off of you?”

Sam smirks, nodding immediately, “I do. You were wearing those high waisted jeans and that cropped grey sweatshirt.” He chuckles slightly, “I remember seeing you pull that hundred dollar bill out of your little white cross body purse.”

You laugh, “I thought maybe you would have cut me a good deal if you seen how pretty I was.”

He looks over at you, “If I knew it was for you and not your douchebag boyfriend at the time.”

“No I understand.” You lift your arm, resting your elbow on the top of the beanbag and resting your cheek in the palm of your hand, “Do you remember the text you sent me after I left?”

“I was so nervous.”

“I could tell.” You smirk, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, “what was it?” You tease, “I don’t say this often but you’re too pretty to be buying drugs?”

Sam smiles huge and covers his face, “Oh no.” He looks at you through his fingers and tries not to laugh, “This is why..” he sighs, “Y/n.”

“This why what? Sam.”

You groans playfully and pulls his hands away from his face, “Don’t tell anyone that I’m nice and shit.”

You smile, “What happens at Sam’s house, stays at Sam’s house.”

He smirks, “That’s the motto.”

You laugh slightly and stare at him for a few seconds, “Why’d you keep selling to me then?”

Sam looks over at you, brows furrowed, “Whatcha mean, sweetheart?” You bring your one leg up and tuck it under your other.

You keep your thighs pushed together, but that doesn’t stop Sam from noticing your drive riding up your fishnet covered thighs.

“Like, I mean.. stop me if I’m reading too much into it, please.. but at the same time, if you said I was too pretty to buy your drugs, why did you..” you shake your head and look over at him.

He chews on his lip as he sits up, “Because I was afraid I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

Your eyes bounce from his lips to his eyes, “You had my number.” You smirk slightly and he shrugs, “You had a boyfriend.”

You both stare at each other for a few seconds before both bursting into laughter.

“Do you care if I hang out here a little bit longer?” You ask and Sam shakes his head, “Stay the night if you want.”

You smile slightly, “Only if y-“

Sam cuts you off, “Sweetheart, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hang out with you. So please, it’s not any burden to me. I swear.”

He chuckles and you nod, laughing nervously, “I’ve.. actually wanted to hang out with you, too. So I’m glad you were free tonight.”

Sam shrugs, “I would have made myself free either way.” He stands up and nods towards the door, “I’ll get you something to change in to.”

You stand up, following him upstairs to his bedroom.

As Sam rummages through his dresser, you bend down to reach up under your dress and pull your fishnets down.

You step out of them as Sam turns around, freezing as he watches you step out of them and stand back up.

Your eyes meet his and you smile slightly, “Sorry, I had to get these things off.”

He shakes his head, handing you the shirt and pants, “You’re fine, um.” He chuckles, “Pants are totally optional in his house, so just, feel free to make yourself at home.”

He winks and you smirk, “I’ll keep that in mind.” You point to your dress, “Can you unzip me?”

He nods and you turn around. You couldn’t lie, you were turned on by his touch.

His hand gently laid on your hip as he used his other to drag the tiny zipper down your back, “There you go.”

He steps back and you turn, hand holding the dress to your chest, “Thank you.”

Sam motions to the door, clearly stalling, “So, I’m going to, uh. Go back down stairs.” He claps his hands together and steps towards the door, “Roll, um, I’ll roll another one.”

You nod, “Sounds good.” You drag out, chewing on your lip.

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and then everything happens so fast.

Sam has your dress pushed down, pooling at your feet before he pushes you back on the bed. His lips trailing down your neck as his hand slides up and down your body.

You let out a moan as you feel his hand knead and pull at your boob, “Sam.” You breathe out, “P-please.”

Your head was already spinning, you were anxious for how you were going to feel after.

“Can I taste what you have between those pretty little legs of yours?”

You whimper in response, “Yes.”

Sam moves down the bed, lips connecting with your skin, “You’re so beautiful.” He doesn’t even take the time to pull your panties down, he just pushes them to the side and goes in for it.

You gasp, arching your back off the bed, “Oh fuck.” You moan out loudly, hand moving to the back of his head as his tongue moves in and out of your aching cunt.

“F-fuck fuck.” You look down, taking in the sight of Sam between your legs.

Every time you’ve seen him, you couldn’t help but have at least a dirty thought or two.

“Holy shit.” Sam groans against you, “You taste so fucking good.” His hands grip your hips harder and pull you towards him, pinning them down as he moves up to suck on your clit.

You throw your head back whining, eyes rolling back as his tongue flicks over the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips.

You were so close already and Sam pushing two fingers into you was getting you there faster and faster.

“Sam, Sam. Sam.” You gasp out, “Shh-shit.”

You pull his head into you more, trying to move your hips, even though you really can’t. Sam groans against you, his fingers rubbing that perfect little spot that’s urging you to cum for him.

“I-I-“ You let out a loud moans legs squeezing as far as they’ll go. Sam guides you through your high, lifting his head, “Such a good girl.”

You moan louder at his words and he raises a brow, “Mm, someone has a little praise kink I see.”

You open your eyes, looking up at Sam as he crawls up your body. He dips his head down, lips brushing against yours, “You are so fucking hot.”

You smirk, closing your eyes as his lips press to yours, moving in sync. Your arms slide around his neck and you pull on his sweatshirt.

He sits up, taking his glasses off and setting them on the stand before removing his sweatshirt. Your hands run down his torso and he bites his lip when you hook your fingers into his waist band.

Your eyes move up to meet his and you pout, “Please fuck me.”

Sam’s lips twitch into a smile as he pushes down his sweats and boxers in one swoop. He leans down, elbows by your head as he hooks your leg over his hip, “You sure you w-“

You cut him off by crashing your lips into his, “I need you.” You grind your hips down, trying to feel for his cock, “Please.”

He leans his weight into his right arm, leaning down to slip the head of his cock between your folds. Your legs tighten around his waist and he smirks, thrusting his cock the rest of the way into you.

You let out a choked moan, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling.

Your head was spinning more, another orgasm and you swear you’d pass out.

“S-Sam.” You breathe out, “Fuckfuckfuck.”

Your nails dig into his shoulder, earning a groan from him and you gasp, turning your head to press your lips to his.

He moans against your lips, “You were..” he groans, leaning back as he thrusts deep into you, “..Made for me.”

You squeeze your walls around his cock, pulling him closer to you, “I always knew there was something about you.”

You lay a hand on his cheek, furrowing your brows as you moan out, feeling that build up slowly grow, “You’re just, so different.”

“You’re are so beautiful.” He breathes out, crashing his lips onto yours. His thrusts grow faster and his hand slides up to grip your neck, squeezing slowly as he leans his head back.

He watches as your face twists with pleasure.

Your eyes roll back as you grow more dizzy.

“Cum for me, one for time, baby.” Sam whispers, “Please.” His lips attach to your neck and you moan, squeezing his cock with your walls repeatedly,

You arch your back, moans muffled by Sam’s hand on your neck as you cum around him.

You whimper, rolling your hips as you and Sam work your way through your high, low groans escaping his lips as he moves his hand to kiss up to your lips.

“You have me so close, baby. Where do you want me?”

You tighten your legs, voice coming out in a soft wimper, “D-don’t stop.”

He smirks, shaking his head, “Once I do it, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

“That’s fine with me.” You bite down on your lip and Sam nods, “You asked for it.” He pulls out, “Flip over for me, sweetheart.”

You roll over onto your stomach and Sam lifts your hips, and within seconds after, his cock was deeper than it was before.

You were going to lose your mind.

Sam’s hands rub over your hips, “Doing so good for me, baby.”

You push your hips back, moaning at his words, “Fuckfuck, Sam.” You grip the sheets and pull, moaning even louder as Sam’s fingers drag down go rub your clit.

Your walls clench around his cock and he groans, “Got one more in ya, sweetheart?” He throws his head back, using both hands to grip tightly into your hips, “Fuck, cum with me. Cum with me.”

He leans down, planting a few kisses on your shoulder before sliding a hand up to your neck, gently squeezing.

You bring a hand up, laying it on top of his hand and he squeezes harder.

Your moans are growing quieter the harder his grip gets. Your eyes roll back and you can’t help but throw your hips back to meet Sam’s.

Your jaw hung slack as the fucked out euphoria feeling settles in.

Your hand drops to the bed and the band in your belly snaps yet again, leaving you there, moaning silently as your walls milk Sam’s cum into your cunt.

Sam’s hand falls from your neck and his lips press to your cheek, “Are you okay?”

You giggle weakly, “I’m.. great..”

He smirks and looks over his shoulder as he hears the door bell rings and knocking on the door, “What the fuck?”

He look down at you, “If you can get dressed, please do, but if not, just stay here.” You slowly sit up, worry settling in, “Okay. I won’t go anywhere.”

Sam leaves, closing the door behind him.

You get up, slipping on the shirt Sam gave you and fixing your panties before walking to the door. You crack it open and hear Sam let out a laugh, “Dude, I don’t know what to tell you. She isn’t here.”

You hear Clayton groan, “I’m serious man, just-“

“No. I’m not selling you anything, y/n isn’t here. Buh bye.”

“Why the fuck did you sell them to her and not me?” Clayton argues and you bite your lip as you wait for Sam’s response.

“Because, I actually wanted to keep seeing her, she’s quite pretty. Maybe I should give her a call now that, I’m guessing you two are done for, huh?”

You hear a loud thud, maybe a lamp being knocked over, and you open the door more. You walk over to the steps and bend down.

You’re able to see Sam holding Clayton up against the wall and he’s inches from his face, “Maybe don’t go kissing your girlfriend’s best friend and you wouldn’t be in this situation, right?”

“How do you know about that?” Clayton asks lowly and Sam smirks, shrugging his shoulders, “Maybe she stopped by on her way home to grab some weed, maybe she didn’t.”

You bite your lip, seeing Sam stick up for you like this, was so fucking hot.

“You fucked her, didn’t you?” Clayton asks with a scoff, “of course.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Now you’re calling her a slut.. alright.” He moves Clayton towards the door and spins him to look at him, “You ever try to speak or get in contact with y/n again, I’ll make a little phone call to officer Ziebler down at the- um. Shoot, what is it?”

Sam look up at Clayton, “Oh, yeah, the Adult Probation office.”

You cover your lips and Clayton shakes his head, “How do you know about that?”

Sam shrugs, “I have my ways, now, as I said when you got here, buh bye.” He pushes him out and closes the door.

You walk down the steps and Sam turns, stopping with a smirk, “You don’t listen, do you?”

“Actually.” You walk over to him, “I listened to that whole thing so..” you purse your lips, fighting back a smirk, “That’s gotta count for somethin’ right?”

He chuckles, pulling you in for a kiss, “C’mon. I’ll roll us another J.” He wraps your arm around your waist, “Because after that, I need one.”

“Well you know what they say.” You laugh, glancing up at him. He smirks, “And what’s that, babe?”

“A joint.. or three.. a day keeps the bad mood away.”

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I hope this was good, let me know what you think! Thank you for reading! I love you all so much!🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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