(Previously, on Season 4 (re)watch...)

Actually this was probably this season’s episode that I’ve found the most interesting so far? (although don’t get me wrong, the bar was abysmally low 😂)

I'm sorry but in what Universe "we haven't actually met" is a good opener to someone you did meet??? Dave is a lunatic

While writing a crime tutorial isn't exactly convincing proof that you did it, "I'm a mom" isn't either a convincing argument, Beth...

Whoopsie, forgot, but DRINK UP!!! I'm barely three minutes in, I can feel that my liver won't recover from that episode...

It's true that so far the show had forgotten to dumb down Stan... It's now crossed off the to-do list! But to be fair, no character on this show would think about looking for the key taped on the side first. Also what kind of errand is this??? I'm very confused.

And RIP Rio's favourite envelopes store... HOW DARE YOU INFLICT THIS ON MY BOY??????

Ugh, it's the whole "your husband won't like it" joke all over again... I mean, I found it funny the first time, now it's just old and previsible and boring...

I mean no offense to any Nevadan, but like, you have the opportunity to start over literally anywhere and you choose HENDERSON, NEVADA???? Beth, what is wrong with you?

"Just don't give up on me, okay?" I just -- WHY? Why does this show keep trying to sell us Dean while everyone's made it pretty clear that we're not interested??

All things aside, isn't that weird to wish to get buried in your parent's house?? Like !!???

Aaaaaand another pseudo-misunderstanding where the other shoe drops a few minutes later and OH MY GOD I DIDN'T SEE IT COMING THAT IT REALLY WAS ABOUT GARDENING WHAT A SURPRISE!!!!!! Seriously, this shows really needs to stop recycling its jokes.

Also, why do Beth and Annie have to make this ridiculous guessing games about the bomb? They're gonna do the purchase anyway, couldn't they wait ONE MINUTE to be back in the car and tell Ruby?

Pffffffft, well MAYBE IT'S TIME TO LEARN ABOUT THE METRIC SYSTEM HUH??????

I really like the idea that tournaments in Kalamazoo apparently last for weeks and everybody is okay with this...

WHY IS STAN RETRIEVING A PYTHON????? I NEED ANSWERS!

I mean, I do hope for Rio's sake that Beth is not his only side dish... Otherwise our boy has only fucked twice in one year (according to this! delirious! timeline!), and man, that's rough!

The way Americans pronounce cul-de-sac is properly hilarious

"I thought you were special" *giant shrug emoji/Pikachu face* "I'm a mom" DRINK UP!!! I legit giggled at this line, it makes no fucking sense

Rio's LOUD and weary sigh as he settles in his stool is such an allegory of how I feel about Beth myself, it's beyond psychic

Ooooh, Rio's back on this weird kink of his to speak only in unknown nursery rhymes, huh?? Can somebody explain to me what "minue in the sack never take it back" means??????

Okay, I'm actually lost. Beth has made it very clear in season 2 that she DID find her suburban mom life excruciating. But here she's manipulating Rio into believing she's on his side? So that she can go back to this life? So does she like it or not?

Oh wait, I actually know the answer to this one: SHE'S A MOM! BAZINGA!

Man, Rio's cockiness to the idea that he's enough of a big criminal to see his associate get full witness protection package is hilarious. Rio x his ego is the biggest OTP in this show

HIS HAND LINGERED ON HER ARM AND I COMBUSTED AND EVAPORATED

Also, how does this bar make ANY money if Rio offers bottles around like that?

WHY DID SHE KILL THE BUTTERFLY????? I MEAN I GET THE METAPHOR BUT POOR POOR BUTTERFLY...

So Jane tried to turn the TV on during all the time Fitz took to eat his apple while Rio was in the bar convincing some dude to impersonate him???? Jesus, this show really does not get the concept of time, hahaha!!! Or possibly I don’t get the concept of montage lol!

I'm really concerned about the Boland kids, though, between Dean's lazy permissiveness and Beth blatantly lashing out at them, I just... ugh, these kids are NOT starting well in life. And Jesus, Dean really SUCKS at parenting!

So you want to make me believe that Rio didn't run even a BASIC background check on Fitzpatrick and just blindly followed Beth's directions? While she's been notoriously untrustworthy??

Oh wait. If he knew that the guy was trying to murder him, he probably also knew that he wasn't Dave. Calling him that right before killing him was probably a test. Or maybe he’s just an idiot.

So I guess little Emma/Jane will start taking cello lessons soon huh?? Because that's what Beth does when she kills a parent, right? Hanging out with their kids?

Oh snap, I forgot. Fitzpatrick can't die. He's a parent™.

Why aren't the girls trying to find a state where they can move altogether? They're way too codependant to go separately, I won't buy it.

I'm sorry did I miss an episode? Why did they need new plates? What happened to Lucy's ones?

I love how Beth's incredulous "Really?" echoes the "I am?" from ep 1 or 2, like she's so used to Rio playing cold it always comes out as a surprise when he doesn't, haha!

See?? Even cellmates don't want to be with Dean! Poor guy's really hated lol!

Oh wait before I forget: WHERE THE FUCK IS MICK??????

Bonus: Either Fitzpatrick has a very big gun at his waistband, either... well, honestly I don't know what's happening here 😂

Bonus 2: Obviously I won’t leave you smurfless for another week and a half! Have this footage of smurf!Rio about to kill Smurfpatrick. With Au-Jus because why not.

hi fae, how do you feel about people saying that kevin only tolerates madison bc of kate and therefore they won't work? :/

Hi! Well, I think these people are definitely not watching This Is Us (or any type of television, for that matter) or living on Earth. Or seeing and unseeing things according to their pre-established opinions. Either way, that’s absolutely not true. On most of their interactions Kevin is polite, as you can see it here:

I love this part because there are at least three other guests closer to him but she is the first person he offers a glass of champagne... If you pay attention to the scene, he is holding THREE glasses. He gives one to Madison and he puts another on a shelf, I don’t know about the third, but there were definitely more women in the room that could’ve had that(those) glass(es), he just didn’t care, lol. Also, Rebecca is looking and smiling at him, but he doesn’t even notice it because he is too busy looking at Madi... I mean, another direction.

CREDIT: https://thisiskevison.tumblr.com (all the gifs above)

Kevin doesn’t look very happy with the idea of dancing and still he doesn’t protest.

CREDIT: https://madsdefencesquad.tumblr.com/post/616600065662926848/kevin-x-madison-height-difference

This gif doesn’t show it, but he turns his head and watches Madison as she walks away just like on gif number 4.

Siding with her during a conversation with Kate.

CREDIT: https://thisiskevison.tumblr.com (all the gifs above)

Comforting Madison.

CREDIT: https://madsdefencesquad.tumblr.com/post/618991372262916096/kevin-looking-at-madison-nothing-but-blue-skies

He isn’t smiling here, but does this seem to be a person that is annoyed with the other? He has soft, delicate, gentle eyes while looking at her.

And this whole thing about Kevin despising Madison and only tolerating her because of Kate is even more ridiculous because on this scene he is basically begging her to invite him to come inside.

CREDIT: https://madsdefencesquad.tumblr.com/post/616600065662926848/kevin-x-madison-height-difference

If he thought her company was so unpleasant, why would he accept it in the first place? He could’ve left and gone to Rebecca’s house instead, or come back after Toby got back from work, he could’ve called Randall, or Nicky, or simply gone somewhere else to make new friends because it’s not like struggles when he socializes with strangers.

And here is what Madison had to say about her night with him:

CREDIT: https://thisiskevison.tumblr.com/post/617836054621339648/do-you-want-to-know-why-i-think-i-slept-with

He made her feel comfortable enough to be her true self and he ended up spending at least a few hours with Madison. He spent the night at her place and only left the next morning... If her presence were so repellent, why didn’t he leave after the sex? Madison didn’t point a gun at him and forced him to stay. Even after he woke up, he kept lying next to her on the bed without a shirt on... Plus, there was the option of leaving without saying anything while she was asleep, but he didn’t do that.

Actually, the only time I believe Kevin was rude to her was at the hospital, but you have to analyze the context: his sister went into early labor, there was an endless list of possible complications to the baby and herself, it took hours until Kevin got some information, Kevin had been drinking, he was dealing with his failed attempt to connect with his uncle, the frustration of having relapsed after an entire year of being sober, feeling guilty for lying to everyone about it and the fear of losing Zoe because of those lies. He was going through A LOT. Those were probably some of the hardest hours of his life. Yet, at first he treated her just fine, it was the fact she wouldn’t stop talking (because that’s the way she was coping with the situation and usually what he does too when he’s sober, btw) that he said those things to her. Now, I don’t drink, but as far as I know people on hangover usually have headaches so it’s not weird that they will avoid noises and I remember Kevin saying a few minutes before that he was on hangover.

I also remember that he immediately regretted it and apologized to Madison, but she didn’t listen and left (I don’t blame her). And when she walked away he was hit by a dose of consciousness and realized his was being “an ass” and apologized to his family. She wasn’t the only one, he was snapping at everybody, because it wasn’t Madison, Randall or anyone else that was annoying him. It wasn’t personal. It was the stress of the entire situation that was making Kevin take it out on everybody. Plus, even though he didn’t specifically snap at Zoe, when he went outside to get some air and clear his head, she offered him company and Kevin shut her out.

CREDIT: https://thisiskevison.tumblr.com/post/618572824853069824/im-sorry-what-exactly-are-you-doing-here

By the way, Kevin bumped into Madison when he was getting out of the elevator and attempted to apologize for a second time.

Another scene people use as an ‘example’ of rudeness is this moment on the season finale, but I sincerely disagree. Here’s why:

Kevin was in the middle of a heated fight with his brother and that was almost getting physical when Madison arrived for the party.

And when she showed up at the door he just told her the truth: it wasn’t a good time.

Now, does that look like an angry, utterly annoyed and disdainful face for you? Because the way I see it, it’s just a guy who’s weary and not in his best state of mind, which is comprehensible since he was in a middle of an argument, his mother’s health is deteriorating, Randall had talked her into doing a clinical trial in the other side of the country despite her previous refusal and that’s just SOME of the heavy stuff he was dealing with at that specific moment.

However, Madison doesn’t bother and enters the place anyway.

And Kevin doesn’t yell at her, protest or leaves, he just lets her in and closes the door.

Again: does this look like he hates Madison so much like some people make it seem?

THIS is being annoyed and/or angry:

CREDIT: https://rostovarps.tumblr.com/post/165520445651/kevin-pearson-in-this-is-us-01x07-the-best

CREDIT: https://adyadintheforce.tumblr.com/post/177326964546/shame-on-all-of-us

And this is just being upset, tired, feeling like all your energy has been drained out of your body:

If you watch the scene, his face on the picture above and on this gif has identical expressions:

CREDIT: https://ltbelanna.tumblr.com/post/189147462109/this-is-us-4x08-sorry-im-sorry-me-too-see

And really, how did these people expect him to react? Did they expect him to smile, kiss her and propose a second round of hookup? His reaction made perfect sense to everything that was happening at the time.

Do they believe things would’ve been different if it had been someone else at the door, like Kate’s neighbor Gregory or somebody from her support group? Do they think that if it had been another person he would’ve hugged them, offer coffee and crack jokes? That the problem was Madison and not the situation he was in with Randall and Rebecca? 

Anywaaaay, by the end of their conversation he had already softened up and was even slightly smiling at her. 

CREDIT: https://millennial-mess.tumblr.com/post/613565105725194240/im-so-sick-of-chasing-ghosts-im-tired-of

CREDIT: https://madsdefencesquad.tumblr.com/post/620438418688704513/you-da-best

Sure, it wan’t a wide smile because it wasn’t like his problems had disappeared all of a sudden, but he had found a silver lining in the midst of everything.

And being exhausted, upset, annoyed, stressed or angry is part of the human experience and part of being in a relationship of ANY KIND: romantic, platonic, familial. Taking it out on someone can happen sometimes as well. It’s not always sunshine and rainbows. People are not perfect. People are not robots. They navigate through negative feelings and emotions too. It’s how things are in real life and also how things are on television, specially on This Is Us, which is a show that focuses on relationships and emotions.

Jack and Rebecca, Beth and Randall, Kate and Toby, Randall and Kevin, Kevin and Kate, Nicky and Kevin, Kevin and Sophie, William and Randall, Kevin and Cassidy all had moments like this... The list goes on. Would the same people define these relationships/friendships as unsuccessful and fake because of a few unfriendly moments? I doubt it, because what really defines a relationship as healthy and successful is the people’s ability to recognize their own mistakes, forgive each other, work on themselves as individuals and as friends/a couple/a family and getting even closer and stronger after facing the hardships. It’s not smiling, talking, hugging and kissing 24/7 because nobody does that. Maybe for a few days and weeks, but you won’t last even a month behaving like this, let alone YEARS.

And the complications are also what keep the story interesting and engaging. I don’t mean something like toxicity and abuse, but if couples, relatives and friends don’t disagree, argue and face problems out and within their relationship, the show doesn’t go anywhere. There must be conflict. There must be drama. And there must be happiness. It’s about balancing these aspects out.

If they want to watch something that’s always sunshine and rainbows and where the characters are always happy, they should watch a TV show targeted to three-year-old children, because honestly This Is Us has never been and will never be this kind of show. 

And we know Kevin has a pregnant fiancee on season 5 and since This Is Us is not a soap opera, I seriously doubt Kevin will go out there impregnating multiple women with multiple children and multiple sets of twins. I reckon it’s safe to say it’s Madison. That means they will go through one of the most amazing and yet vulnerable and challenging experiences two people can ever face and instead of pulling them apart, it will only bring them closer to the point they will get engaged. For me, this sounds like a relationship that is DEFINITELY WORKING.

Cheesy Pick Up Line

Square: T1 - Diner / Restaurant Warning: fluff and meet cute Pairing: Tony/Bucky preslash Summary: There are food trucks outside of Stark Industries. Who knew? Apparently everyone except Tony Link: A03

A/N Thanks to the @tonystarkbingo discord for their encouragement and ideas.

 “What-- are you eating? In my workshop? No, oh no--”

“But Mr. Stark, you eat in here all the time--” Peter Parker protested and then shoved at least half of what looked like a super greasy grilled cheese into his mouth, making his cheeks bulge out obscenely.

“Yes, and I see you eating,” Tony said, holding out an empty hand, “and there’s nothing for me? That’s so inconsiderate of you, Peter. Haven’t I taught you better than that?”

“Cheesy pick up is literally outside in the parking lot,” Peter said, mouth full of sandwich and licking his fingers.

(more below the cut)

“Was that even supposed to be comprehensible?” Tony wondered. “What are you talking about?”

The last of the sandwich disappeared. “Cheesy Pick Up,” Peter said, enunciating like he thought Tony was an idiot. “It’s a food truck.”

“Friday, call Pepper,” Tony snapped. “We have a food truck in our parking lot? Did I authorize that?”

“Tony,” Pepper sighed, like he was giving her a headache just for breathing. “We have at least one food truck in the parking lot every day of the week, and three or four on weekends. There are a lot of people who work here. Normal people eat lunch. Daily.”

She hung up on him, while Peter tried to pretend he wasn’t hiding a smile.

“Huh.”

“Look, come on down with me, I’m still a little hungry,” Peter said.

Which was how Tony found himself standing in line like a plebe. He tried to cut-- it was his parking lot and his building after all, but Peter grabbed his arm and yanked him to the back. The kid was stronger than he looked.

“A lot of people want this sandwich, I guess?” Tony said. People were looking at him, a few of them holding up phones to snap pictures. That was normal, every day sort of stuff. One of the reasons that Tony wore sunglasses all the time. People forgot to turn off their flashes, and after twenty minutes of being outside in public, Tony would get a terrible headache.

“There’s always a cheesy pickup line,” someone piped up a few people ahead of them, and then snickered at their own bad joke.

Tony’s eyebrows went up. “Really?”

“Despite your best efforts, you have not cornered the market on puns, Mr. Stark,” Peter said.

Tony’s mouth twitched as he tried not to smile. Peter was a lot braver than he’d been when they first started working together, and Tony liked being sassed, even if he would never admit to it.

One of the women -- Tony thought he knew her from the chem lab, maybe a tech -- moaned as she took a bite of her sandwich. Her name was Beth, maybe? Becky? Janet? Tony wasn’t sure, but he’d definitely seen her before.

“Is that for the sandwich or the sex-on-legs,” her friend asked her as they walked back toward the building.

“Both,” Beth-or-maybe-Janet said. “I mean, did you see him? Oh, my goooood. Even if they were terrible sandwiches, I’d stand in line to look at that for five minutes, wouldn’t you?”

“Didn’t I just?” The other woman said, and they both laughed.

“What guy?” Tony said, leaning around to look up the line-- oh. That guy.

That. Guy.

Oh, good lord.

That guy.

He was like the epitome of that guy. The male equivalent of a woman in a red dress, posing over the subway grate. Bette Davis and Clark Gable and Greta Garbo and James Dean. Well, more James Dean than anything else, all sultry pout and cascade of gorgeous, thick hair.

“Huh,” Tony said again.

They moved a little closer and Tony looked at the chalkboard with the various lunches written on them. They were all named after Cheesy Pick Up lines…

The “come here often” which was a cheddar and tomato on rye. There was a “pants on my floor” that was swiss, grilled chicken and caramelized onions. “Checking You Out” was gruyere and fig jelly, which sounded amazing. And the “Love at First Bite” which was goat cheese, avocado, tomato, and bacon.

Among other options. But Tony’s gaze kept flicking from the sign to the guy making the sandwiches, and he couldn't concentrate enough to pick a sandwich.

“What can I get ya?” the guy asked, when it was finally Tony’s turn.

“Do you have a ‘you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen’ with a side of ‘can I ask you on a date’?” Tony wondered.

“I’ll put it on the list,” the guy said. “For now, can I interest you in a ‘falling for you’ with ‘I want a piece of that’ for dessert?”

“Sounds great,” Tony agreed, having no idea what kind of sandwich he was getting. He paid, waited, and the guy handed him two wrapped packages. And a napkin.

“My name’s Bucky,” the guy said. He tapped the napkin, which had a phone number written on the side. “I get off at six.”

“I’m Tony,” Tony said. “I’ll uh… see you later, then?”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” Bucky said. “Now, go on, get outta here, you’re holdin’ up the line.”

“I’ve heard there’s always a cheesy pickup line around here,” Tony mentioned. 

The calm before the storm Part 7

Divergent fanfiction: Eric/OC Mature content and strong language I don't own any part of divergent @pathybo @tigpooh67 @ljvosscmt @frecklefaceb @clublulu333 @beautifulramblingbrains @glamlover87 @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @mom2reesie @readsalot73 @jaihardy @lunaschild2016 @ericdauntless @ariwolff14 @kenzieam @emmysrandomthoughts @sparklemichele @captstefanbrandt @muffinmano Eric stood stock still, almost statue like. He was waiting in the shadows in one of the only secure dead zones in Dauntless. Waiting for the one person he'd rather not see. However, it was a necessary evil at this point. Very aware of his surroundings, Eric hears the crunch of gravel beneath boots. Being extremely paranoid at this point he puts one hand on the gun holstered at his hip, the other armed with his personalized dagger. One couldn't be to careful in Dauntless these days. Then he hears the voice call out to him. "Eric?" He slowly looses the tension in is body as he eases out of the shadows. "Four," is all he says like its venom spewing off his tongue. "Did you send me an encrypted message to meet you down here to finally try to off me," Four laughs dryly. "No. I, I need your help," Eric finally manages to spit out the filthily words. "YOU need MY help. That's rich Eric, even for you," Four drawls shooting Eric a curious gaze. Fuck, Eric cursed to himself. Why? Why does it have to be fucking Four. Well because he hates Jeanine, he's Divergent and he likes Beth even if he hates my guts; Eric's inner monologues rage on in his head. "Eric did you even hear me!?," Four snapped irritated. Eric narrowed his eyes at the man while all but growling at him. He had heard the asshole just fine. "I need your help because you're one of the only people I can fucking trust with my precious cargo," Eric grounded out teeth clenched. This fucking sucks he thought to himself. I hate this pompous ass. But I know I can trust him. Eric was deeply conflicted due to being such a prideful bastard. "Why me? You hate me? But you can trust me," Four asked sounding disgusted and confused. "I have no other choice. I can't trust to many people right now. But, I'm going to trust you with my reason to live. Trust you with the only thing, no person I give two fucks about," Eric spoke in a low heated tone. "Eric what's going on? Is Beth alright?" Four was almost feeling nervous? Eric's behavior was beyond normal or just out of character at this point. Eric slowly shook his head. Here goes nothing, praying to all the deities he could think of he hadn't made a mistake. "No. She's pregnant with my child and Jeanine wants her dead," Eric almost choked on the words speaking them out loud. Four just stood there mouth slightly agape, he was at a loss for words. What in the fuck did Eric expect him to help do? He surly wasn't killing Beth, he'd kill Eric first. Reading the expression on his face, Eric scoffed at the moron. "No you idiot. I am, we aren't killing Beth. You and your even less impressive other half, you're going to be the Stiffly duo who play the mother fucking hero's. You know being former Abnegation, bleeding hearts and all that bullshit," Eric ranted. Four narrowed his eyes at his enemy. For some reason beyond his comprehension, he trusted Eric. In this moment anyway. "What's the plan?" Four asked cautiously. "I am going to fake her "murder/suicide" while you and perky, perfect, pain in my ass are going to smuggle her to Amity," Eric explained. Four sighed heavily. He couldn't turn him down. Beth is pregnant and endangered. Besides, even though he would never admit it, he kinda owed him one. After all, it WAS Eric who helped hide Tris' divergence. Even if it was only because of and for Beth. "So what's the plan "plan" Coulter? Have you already spoken to Johanna?" "That part is already taken care of. I need your help on the messy parts. I'll also need you get me in contact with Amar and George." Four's eyes went wide. This caught him off guard. Everyone was suppose to think those two where dead. "I can't, how did you?" Four struggled with his words. "Who the fuck did you think got them out of hare Tobias. You idiot. Why do you think I suggested Amity?" Eric was getting irritated and feeling more irrational by the moment. He had to rain it in. "Just fucking make sure you four idiots and the Pedrad's at the spot at midnight tonight to go over the plan." Eric barked. "Why Zeke and Uriah?" Four asked in a questioning tone seeing the pattern. "Because you Divergents are the only ones I can trust right now." Eric's voice was laced with disdain. Four wasn't sure how much he really trusted Eric right now, but what other choice did he have? They might just be able to bring down Jeanine if they all work together........

you: so, swan, wanna explain to the class why you haven’t filled 90% of those prompts your kind and delightful followers sent you?

me: :)

you: oh no

me:

--

Trust Burr, Herc thinks sourly, nursing his beer, to ghost on you right when you thought he was about to commit to something for once in his life.

He’s not really sure what he expected, honestly; it’d taken weeks to get him to agree to a meeting, just to talk about the idea of having him try and make connections with some of the British higher-ups, not even to agree on a course of action. Herc would’ve liked to scrap the whole idea ages ago, but names have power and unfortunately, even the British have some folks on their side who know better than to run their mouths around the good-natured, unthreatening help. Would’ve been worth trying that reserve against Burr’s upper-class mannerisms and modish style, but—well, no point in fussing about that now. A more hopeful man might say to himself, give it another quarter of an hour, perhaps he’s been delayed, perhaps he’s just being cautious, perhaps he doesn’t know if he can trust you yet, you know how that is.

Herc is a pragmatist. It’s been two hours since they said they’d meet. Caution has a place in these dangerous times, but at a certain point it tips over into pure foolishness, and Herc’s already got his fair share of fools knocking around.

He knocks back the rest of his drink and pushes his chair back just as some sort of disturbance erupts at the corner of the bar. He winces. Yeah, he’s getting too old for this shit. He can remember a time when he’d’ve thrown in on one side or the other, completely at random, just for the hell of it, but he can leave those kinds of shenanigans to Laurens or one of his fellow hotheads now.

Beth would laugh at him for that. Would say you’re not even old, Hercules, quit being such a grouch, and boy, that’s how he really knows he’s a grown-up, because the thought of going home and crawling into bed with her sounds like the best thing in the world right now, fuck Burr, fuck the Sons of Liberty, fuck a bar fight. God, he loves his wife.

He’s fighting his way over to the door when he catches a flash of oxblood red in the thick of it, over by the bar. Familiar shade. Burr with a new coat, adjusting his cuffs and making polite non-statements as Herc had tried to pin down a time to meet with him privately. So he bothered to show up after all, then.

Herc groans a little bit internally. Really all he wants right now is to go home, but Burr’s right there and it’d be a waste of an evening and god only knows if the man would be coerced into another meeting if Herc failed to make this one. Damn it. Herc turns around and starts pushing his way toward the oxblood coat. If it turns out that Burr has been here the whole time, Herc is gonna pummel him, vital espionage or not. Best not to make that obvious, though, so he hitches up his ruffian’s grin as he draws closer.

“About time, Burr, thought you weaseled out on me!” he says loudly, throwing out a hand to catch him by the arm—

The young man he’s grabbed spins around, stares at Herc from behind an untidy fall of black hair. Very obviously not Burr. Oops. Herc drops him, and he jerks back against the bar, baring his teeth like an angry dog.

“What do you want?” he snaps, rather shrilly.

Herc’s about to tell him to step off, kid, I just thought you were someone else, no need to get all excited, but the bartender’s noticed them talking. “Friend of yours, Mulligan?” he says. “You wanna tell him not to waste my time if he can’t pay for his drinks?”

“I can pay, I have money, it’s just—it was just here,” the young man retorts, fumbling at his pockets like a man who knows his pocketbook is long gone and is hoping to be subject to an act of God in the immediate future. Ouch. Tough break. None of Herc's business, though, and his family’s waiting for him at home, so all he can do is mentally wish the young man good luck and that his money’s in his other pocket.

The young man locks eyes with Herc for just a moment in his flurry of motion. Desperation stamped all over his face. He’s very young, just a kid, really, for all the sharpness in his voice. The bartender is giving every sign of being ready to chase him out of the tavern. Herc feels a little pang.

He just yelled at you for no good reason, says the reasonable part of Herc, and that may be true, but—Herc’s not made of stone. He has a heart. He’s always quite liked doing folk a good turn. It feels nice. And you can always cash in on it, later, if you need to, with the right sort of person. It never hurts to have an extra favor in the bank.

Herc makes up his mind.

“Relax, Mo,” says Herc, “I’ve got his. And while you’re at it, another for me.” The bartender glares, but when Herc digs in his pockets and slaps the money on the counter he more or less obligingly draws two beers for them. Herc pushes one of them at the kid and steers him over to the first free table.

“You’ll have to excuse poor Moses,” Herc says, “he’s dealt with too many people trying to skip out on a tab in his day to remember what it’s like to have a little patience. Sorry about your wallet, pal. At least take a load off.” He pulls out a chair gallantly before settling back down himself.

The kid’s chin bobs in what might be a jerky nod and what might just be a twitch, and he crumples into the chair. Up close, he looks even younger, with big dark puppy eyes and an outsize nose and not even the slightest hint of peach fuzz on his chin. He clutches his beer and stares at Herc as though he suspects him of poisoning it. Doesn’t take a sip. Tense, Jesus. Herc takes a swig of his own drink and makes himself comfortable.

“Hercules Mulligan,” he says with a flourish, by way of introduction. Gives the kid a second to enjoy the name; he knows it’s an impressive one. “You got a name, friend?”

The kid looks, if possible, even more rattled. “Yes,” he says, his knuckles going white on the mug. There’s a long, awkward pause. Herc sits with it. Let him come to it in his own time. “Oh,” the kid says, finally, and then, “Alex. Alexander. Alexander Hamilton.” Can’t quite hide the pleased little smile that curls his lips as he says it. Pride. Which is funny, thinks Herc, given that he himself wouldn’t know a Hamilton from a hole in the ground.

No point in being antagonistic, though. “Well, Alex Alexander Alexander Hamilton, let me be the first to welcome you to our fair city. I am the first, right? Let me guess, you got off the boat, what, maybe four o’clock this afternoon?”

Hamilton scowls in a way that suggests Herc has hit pretty close to the mark. “How would you know that?”

“Call it intuition. I can tell a New Yorker when I see one, and you’re not quite there yet.” In truth, it’s that the tavern they’re in is close to the waterfront, a bit off the beaten trail, and someone wearing clothes as fine as Hamilton’s probably wouldn’t have bothered giving the place a second glance if he hadn’t just stumbled off a ship. Simple deduction.

Although he wouldn’t have blamed himself for guessing wrongly, given the kid's general state of dishevelment, the hair falling into his eyes, his half-buttoned waistcoat and sloppily tied cravat, like someone who’s been drinking for several hours already. But that’s impossible; no one could be that sloshed and still be as jittery as Hamilton is. So—newcomer.

“And what brings you to New York, Mr. Hamilton? You here for work, or pleasure, or—” he gestures grandly with his mug of beer, “—just to seek your fortune?”

To his great amusement, Hamilton perks up at that. “Last one. Definitely the last one,” he says. Herc can’t help but smile back.

“A romantic, huh? Cute. No, no, don’t be mad,” he says, when Hamilton bristles at his tone, “I think it’s nice. We could always use a few more dreamers in this world.” He waits for Hamilton to calm down again before continuing, “So you must have big plans for this city, huh? Gonna knock out a couple of life goals while you’re here?”

“I, um.” Hamilton stares down into his mug. “I sort of—I’m new here, like you said. I just wanna learn. Wanna see what there is for me to do.”

“You’re trying to do some learning, this isn’t a bad place for it. Not bad at all. Some great colleges around here. If you’re a scholarly sort, good with your words, you can get a solid start there.”

“College. Yeah.” Hamilton’s eyes brighten. “Yeah, I’m—I was—I’m pretty good with words. Numbers too. I used to think, maybe I could still—college. I like that. How do you do college?”

Herc snorts, but otherwise lets that slide. “Can’t just walk in off the street, for the first thing. You’d have to apply, there’s an exam to prepare for and everything. Might need to do some schooling before you apply, even, depending on how prepared you are. There’s places you can go for that nearby, though. It’ll be work, but if you buckle down—”

“I can figure it out.”

“What, just like that?”

“I’m smart. I remember a lot, I—” Hamilton frowns a bit, like he’s let too much slip, but goes on. “Anyway. I’m good at that kind of stuff. Reading. Studying. I’ll be able to do it.”

“You got your Greek, your Latin? Gonna need those if you’re interested in going down this path.”

“I’m sure I could pick ‘em up,” says Hamilton with absurd confidence, and Herc rolls his eyes. Yeah, okay. Just pick up some dead languages like it’s no big deal. Kid must already have some schooling under his belt, to be talking like that. Cheeky. But Herc kind of likes that swagger coming out.

“Well, once you do, give me a shout. I know a guy at Princeton, I could introduce you.”

“I, sure, yeah. Thank you. Princeton. That’s, is that in New York?”

“No…it’s in Princeton.”

“Right.” No comprehension on that face.

“Princeton, like, across the river and inland a ways. Jersey, you know. Or maybe you don’t, where are you here from…?”

“Oh. Inland. Okay.” Some of that nervousness filtering back in. “I was sort of trying to stay around these parts. If I could.”

“Yeah, well, slow down a little, you haven’t even applied yet, you don’t have to make any decisions right this minute. Although between you and me, might be safer for you to get out of the city, if you can. You’ve chosen a risky time to come here. We’ve got more than our fair share of unrest right now.”

“Do you?” Hamilton leans forward, raises his eyebrows with interest. “What is it, what’s going on?”

Herc sips his beer. Glances at Hamilton, without looking like he is. Could be a Redcoat, could be a spy, mutters a cautious voice in his head, you know they’ll use anyone. But Herc trusts his gut, and his gut is telling him that the Brits would be idiots to send a spy dumb enough to get in a noisy public argument, lose his wallet, and not know where Princeton is after him. Amateur hour. They’re better than that.

Hamilton is looking at him with what must be genuine curiosity, dark eyes like blank slates, and he had said he was a dreamer, hadn’t he? Give him some dreams to work on. No such thing as a bad time to recruit for the cause. Carefully, though, always carefully.

“Lotta stir, what with that rebel army up north,” Herc says in his most casual tones. “Gets people saying all sorts of things. Scandalous things. Downright seditious, even. They say folks are organizing, right here, in the city. Our King’s not too pleased with us right about now. Of course, I wouldn’t know anything about it,” Herc continues, lightly, “hardworking, law-abiding citizen like me. I just listen. Just hear things.”

Hamilton has caught on, though, and fixes Herc with a stare that puts Herc in mind of some hunting animal, cat, hawk. No, not a hawk, something colder, something sharper. Hamilton wets his lips, opens his mouth, and…

“What king?”

“…You serious? Where did you say you were from, again?”

“The—the Caribbean?” says Hamilton, sounding rather uncertain. He shakes his head and tries again. “The Caribbean. St. Croix. Nevis, and then St. Croix.”

“Right. You know you have the same king down there as we do, right?”

“Do we?” A little concerned line appears between Hamilton’s brows. “I mean, yes. We do. Obviously. Yeah, I know. The king, that king over in, in, uh…”

“England.”

“England,” Hamilton says, a little too hard on Herc’s heels.

“Really, though, how old are you, that you don’t know who the king is?”

“I’m nineteen! And I know, all right, I do, it’s just, I just…” He trails off, drops his eyes. “I’ve had. There’s been. Other stuff to think about. King didn’t really seem important.” He looks back up, beseeching. “Should he have been?”

Herc studies that expression for a moment. Shame mingled with desperation to be right, to understand. “Nah, you’re okay. We all miss things,” he replies, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

A few more pieces click together in Herc’s head. Came to New York to seek my fortune, right; translate that into came to New York for a fresh start, came to New York running from whatever—whoever—was dogging me so hard that I couldn’t even be bothered to look at whose face was on the money. Explains the jumpiness, and the badly-concealed lies—Herc’ll be damned if Hamilton is nineteen, not with that girlish complexion, and the way he stumbled over Nevis and St. Croix was more than a little suspect.

A runaway, then, huh. Poor kid. Which, Herc supposes, is all the more reason to give him a solid mooring, ideological if nothing else. And if people tend to stay loyal to their first benefactors, well, so much the better.

“Anyway, you wanna learn something about what’s really going on in this city, come to Fraunces Tavern two nights from now. Some friends of mine are having a meeting, we can show you the ropes. Where are you staying? I can tell you how to get there from your place.”

Hamilton smiles unconvincingly. “Oh, uh, I was just planning to, you know, find somewhere around…”

“Got it. You have nowhere to stay. ‘I was just planning to find somewhere.’ Jesus, you really are new to this city, aren’t you.” Herc pushes his hat back on his head, sighs, and then rises from the table. “Nothing for it, then. Finish your beer, and then you’re coming home with me.”

“What? No, it’s fine, I don’t need, you don’t have to do that!”

“I do, unless you like the idea of sleeping in the gutter. No arguments, my man, I’ve got a spare bed and you don’t wanna spend your first full day in New York in the lockup for vagrancy.”

Those huge eyes of Hamilton’s get even bigger, and he stammers out a few words of argument before falling quiet. Herc can almost see his brain working at this additional unexpected generosity, like he doesn’t know what to do with it.

In the end, he just says, more quietly than he’s said anything all evening, “Thanks. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, you gonna finish your beer or what?”

Alex looks dubiously down at his full mug of beer. Lifts it to his mouth.

“Whoa, hey, I didn’t say inhale it—shit, Hamilton, are you crazy, cut that out!”

Hamilton makes a noise like huuurghlgh and spews half the contents of the mug across the table before doubling over, choking. He looks very green, and for a second Herc is afraid he’s going to vomit, but he recovers his color, sits up and paws at his mouth in abject disgust.

“Fucking—what the fuck—what is—vile fucking shit—”

“All right, all right, take it easy,” says Herc, pulling out a handkerchief and mopping at the beer splattered all over Hamilton’s coat. He’s contrived to spray it backwards, somehow, so it’s dribbled into his hair and down the sides of his collar. “Look, forget what I said, I’m cutting you off. You got your stuff?”

Hamilton coughs several times, makes a face at Herc. “My…my stuff?”

Herc rather belatedly realizes he hadn’t seen Hamilton carrying a bag at any point in the evening. Good God. Lost in New York without a wallet, without connections, without anything but the clothes on his back. He’s lucky Herc found him, or he would’ve ended up dead in a gutter before the end of the week.

“Never mind. C’mon, up. We’re going.”

With a last vicious glare at the mug of beer, Hamilton gets up and follows Herc to the door and out of the tavern, and they set off for the house. It’s slow going; Hamilton’s unsteady on his feet, and keeps stumbling until Herc throws a steadying arm around his narrow shoulders. And what’s that about? He can’t possibly be drunk, not on a mouthful of beer he didn’t even swallow. Herc leans over and sniffs discreetly, willing to walk back on his earlier judgment of this kid is not an uncontrollable lush, but can’t detect a whiff of anything harder under the smell of the beer.

“It’s not far, your place, is it?” Hamilton says with a bit of an edge to his voice. He glances back over his shoulder towards the waterfront.

“Like ten, fifteen minutes’ walk. Not bad at all. Hey, don’t worry,” he says, clapping Hamilton on the shoulder and almost causing his knees to give out, “you stick around until after my shift’s done tomorrow, I’ll show you around town a little, help you get your bearings. You’ll be a New Yorker before you know it.”

“Yeah,” says Hamilton. He shivers. Looks back at the harbor. Catches Herc noticing, and points his face back homeward. “It’ll be fine. I’ll figure it out.”

“That’s the spirit. Watch the cobblestones there.”

Hamilton yelps and hits the ground. Herc hauls him back to his feet. It’s gonna be a long walk home.

--

(part the second)